Caught Up in the Drama (3 page)

“Yes, Mother. Yes, yes, yes, I understand!” I kissed her again. “I'm going to walk my girls out.”

“'Bye, Mrs. Harris,” my friends sang as they followed me out. They were all just as happy as I was.

My mother just didn't know. She'd made my day. No, let me correct that—she'd made my life!

Alexis

I was so anxious to get home. Sonja was our longtime maid, and today was her last day. My dad had promised to come home from work early so we could have a nice farewell dinner as a family. Getting my dad to leave work for anything almost took an act of God. That man was a workaholic, with a capital W. But I guess you didn't own a hotel, a bunch of real estate and keep us living in this seven-bedroom house by not working hard.

Still, I would give it all up just to have some of my father's time.

“Hey, Sonja,” I said as I walked into the kitchen. Sonja was actually more than a maid. She was like part of our family, since she'd been with us since I was two years old.
Unfortunately, today was her last day because she was moving back to Guatemala to take care of her sick mother. So dinner was to say good-bye to Sonja and let her know how much we'd miss her. I'd bought her a nice sterling silver charm bracelet and written a long letter, which I planned on giving her before she left.

“Hello, Alexis. How was school today?” she asked, immediately bringing me an ice-cold glass of lemonade.

I set my backpack in the kitchen chair and took the glass. “It was good,” I said. “My friend that won the talent show—”

“Camille?” she asked.

I smiled. Sonja knew what was going on with my friends better than my own parents did. “Yeah, Camille,” I nodded, taking a sip of my drink. “I just hope she doesn't get bigheaded.”

Sonja looked confused. “I don't understand,” she said. “Bigheaded? Her head is growing?”

I laughed. “It's just a saying. Her head isn't growing, like literally. I just don't want her to let the fame go to her head.”

Sonja nodded, although I could tell she still didn't understand what I was saying. I decided to change the subject. “Where's Mom?”

“Upstairs, resting.” She leaned over to me, smiled and whispered, “She's worn out. Your mother doesn't do well in the kitchen.”

I groaned. “So she really tried to cook the dinner all by herself?”

“Not only did she try,” Sonja said as she pointed at the ceramic dishes on the counter, “she succeeded. Shrimp Alfredo, black walnut salad, asparagus and . . .” Sonja paused and looked around the room. “You ready for this? Chocolate cream pie!”

I gasped. “No way!”

Sonja nodded. “Yes, way.” I knew she was impressed. I think this might have been my mom's second time cooking a meal the entire time Sonja had been with us.

Sonja's eyes watered up. “I am just so touched. That your mother would do something that she hates so much, for me.”

I gently touched her hand. “She wanted this night to be special for you.”

“I know, but it's her special day, too. Her birthday. Still, she wouldn't even let me help. She wouldn't let me do anything all day.” Sonja held out her hands. “Do you know she had someone come to the house today and give me a manicure, a pedicure and a massage!”

I loved seeing Sonja so happy. “That's because she wanted you to know how special you are to all of us.”

“I'm going to miss you all so!”

“Not as much as we're going to miss you,” I said. And I meant that. I was just about to ask her what time my dad was going to be home when she let out a loud sob. “I'm so sad!” she said before racing from the room.

I couldn't help but smile, because I was sure that was the first of many tears tonight; she was going to like my gift, but she was going to flip when she saw what my parents were giving her—a check for ten thousand dollars.

I knew she was going to try to return it, but Sonja was worth every penny. Not only had she cared for me and my sister, Sharon, who was autistic and now lived in a special home, but she was also the glue that held my family together. I was no fool. It was obvious that my parents hadn't been happy for a while, but things had gotten really bad the past couple of months. My dad was working late almost every day,
and when he was at home he and my mom were at each other's throats. I tried to stay out of their way as much as I could. If it hadn't been for Sonja, I probably would've lost my mind.

I made my way up the winding staircase and peeked into my mother's suite. As Sonja said, she was resting peacefully, a black satin mask covering her eyes. I eased the door closed and went on down the hall to my bedroom.

I told myself I was just lying down for a few minutes, but I awoke to the sounds of screaming coming from my parents' bedroom.

I sat up in my bed and rubbed my eyes. I was shocked to see that it was dark outside. I glanced over at the clock on my nightstand and freaked when I saw it was almost nine o'clock. “Our dinner!” I exclaimed, jumping up. I couldn't believe no one had come and woken me up.

I stopped just outside my parents' room. I was about to knock when my mother's voice let me know why no one had bothered to wake me up.

“Just one time! Can you just put your family first one time!” my mom was screaming. “We sat and waited for you, and I don't even know why we bothered!”

“Calm down, Veronique! You said yourself that Alexis was asleep. And Sonja said she understood.”

“Sonja always says she understands, and she doesn't. I don't understand. Your daughter doesn't understand. We don't understand how you can't seem to find any time for anything but your stupid job!”

“This stupid job is why you are able to live in an eight-thousand-square-foot house! This stupid job keeps you in those designer clothes and rolling around in luxury vehicles.” His voice dropped as he went on. “You know what, I'm exhausted.
I'm sorry Mr. Carter decided at the ninth hour that he wanted to finish this deal tonight. I'm sorry you slaved in the kitchen—for once.”

“You're sorry, all right!” my mother yelled.

By this point I'd had enough. It's like no matter how hard we tried, we couldn't do anything together anymore.

I didn't even realize I was crying until I felt the tears wetting my cheeks. I headed back to my room but stopped just outside the door. I turned and headed back downstairs and didn't stop until I was in my usual place of comfort—snuggled up next to Sonja in her bed.

Camille

As captain of the drill team at Madison, I was already pretty popular, but winning the talent show took that to a whole different level.

Everyone was standing around in the courtyard when my mom dropped me off for school. I had barely gotten out of the car before people started racing over to me.

“Are you really going to be in a video with Sisco?” this girl from the drill team asked me.

“Oh, my God, I saw you at the talent show. “You were off the hook,” another girl said.

I smiled, replied graciously and tried my best to act like the attention was no big deal.

“Miss Harris, I'm very proud of you.” That came from
our mean assistant principal, Mr. Hudson. “You make Madison look good.” He had a pleasant expression on his face, which was definitely a change from the scowl he wore the rest of the time.

I thanked him and made my way to my locker. I was tripping off all the people that were smiling and coming up to me. Even the haters were giving me my props. I had to fight back my smile when I saw Dee, this snobby girl I couldn't stand, hanging nearby with her snob squad, as I called them. I knew Dee was hating all of the attention I was getting. That's not to mention her itch for Xavier, my boyfriend.

“Take a picture, it lasts longer,” Jasmine said to Dee. She huffed, rolled her eyes and stormed off, her girls in tow.

With Alexis and Angel, Jasmine approached me at my locker.

“What's up, superstar?” Alexis said, giving me a playful bump.

“Girl, trippin' off all the love,” I said, pulling my advanced literature book out of my locker.

“I know, right?” Alexis said, delighted at my success.

“You deserve it, Camille. You were so good,” Angel added.

“Thanks, guys.” I shut my locker. “Honestly, I surprised myself. I mean, as much as I love dancing, I always felt like I could sing, but being up on that stage, it's like someone else took over my body.”

“Yeah, Jennifer Hudson took over, that's who.” Angel laughed.

We chatted some more before the bell rang for first period. I had been hoping to catch up with Xavier, because he hadn't answered my phone calls last night. I knew that meant he was still mad. We had second period together, so it looked
like I would have to wait until then before I could talk to him.

I made it through first period, even though my mind was somewhere else. By the time second period rolled around, I couldn't wait to see Xavier. I wanted to throw my arms around his neck when I saw him walk into the classroom. He looked so cute in his Madison basketball letterman jacket and some baggy Sean John jeans. But of course, I couldn't be seen jocking any guy, even if that guy was my boyfriend. So I had to play it cool and wait until he took his seat.

“Hey,” I said as he slid in the desk in front of me.

“What's up?” he replied without looking my way.

“Are you still mad at me?”

“I ain't mad,” he replied coldly.

“Then why do you have a funky attitude?”

“I don't have an attitude,” he said with plenty of attitude.

“Come on, Xavier. I don't want to argue with you,” I whispered.

He reached down and pulled out his history book. “Camille, I'm not . . . oh shoot!” he exclaimed.

“What?” I asked.

“I forgot to do this homework,” he said frantically, pulling out his worksheet. “Dr. Reed is going to kill me.”

“It's not that serious.”

“Yes, it is.” He groaned. “She has to fill out my progress report for Coach today. If I don't have this, she's gonna give me an F, and Coach isn't going to let me play in Saturday's game.” He looked like he was racking his brain trying to figure out what to do. “Maybe if I sneak out before class starts, I can come back after class and turn it in,” he said, almost to himself.

I checked through the window out into the hallway, where Dr. Reed was standing talking to another teacher.

“Or maybe you can just copy my answers,” I said, holding out my homework toward him.

He hesitated like he didn't really want my help.

“Boy, would you take the paper? You don't have time to be all prideful.”

He sighed and took my paper. He quickly started copying the answers. I was pretty good about my schoolwork, and I could count on one hand the number of times I had cheated in high school, but this was a special exception.

“Done,” I whispered just as the bell rang. Dr. Reed walked into the room and announced that everyone should pass their homework to the front of the room. I had made two of his answers different from mine so it wouldn't look like we'd cheated. All innocent, I put our papers on top of each other and passed them up to Xavier.

“Thanks,” he said, taking the papers and turning around in his seat. “I owe you.”

“I know how you can make it up to me,” I whispered behind his ear. “Stop being mad at me.”

I knew he wasn't trying, but a small smile crossed his face. “Deal.”

I giggled and ran my hand over the back of his smooth fade.

“Miss Harris, can you save the flirting until after my class?” Dr. Reed chastised.

I rolled my eyes and leaned back into my chair.

“And do you need to take that eye-rolling to the principal's office?” she asked.

“Dr. Reed,” said this pimply-faced girl named Donya,
sitting in the front row, “don't you know Camille is a big star now? She's gonna be in a video with Sisco.”

“I don't care if she's starring with Madonna, Prince and Barack Obama. She will have some respect in my classroom.” Dr. Reed stood at the front, her arms folded across her chest, the look on her face telling me she meant business.

“Sorry,” I muttered, looking down at my book.

I don't know how I made it through the class, but I had never been more happy to hear a bell ring. I gathered up my things and beelined toward the door. I didn't even wait for Xavier. I would just wait outside in the hallway. I had just reached the door when I heard Dr. Reed say, “Miss Harris, can you hang back a minute? I need to talk to you.”

I groaned as several of my classmates flashed “better you than me” looks as they headed out the door.

“Yes, ma'am?” I said, approaching the front of her desk.

“One minute.”

She waited until the last student had left the room before turning her attention back to me. “Miss Harris, do you want to tell me what's going on? That eye-rolling? That's not like you at all.”

“I wasn't rolling my eyes,” I protested.

“Oh, so I guess I'm just crazy, huh?”

I wanted to tell her yeah, but I wasn't crazy either, so I remained silent.

“Camille, you are one of my best students,” she continued. “I would be remiss if I didn't warn you not to let fame go to your head.”

“Huh?” I said. “I just won the talent show yesterday.”

“I know that. I'm not saying that you have let anything go
to your head yet. But you are too bright, too sweet and too levelheaded to get beside yourself, and I just wanted to give you a warning from the very beginning.”

I gave her a reassuring, yet fake, smile. “Thank you, Dr. Reed. But seriously, me letting this video go to my head? I don't think so.”

“I hope so, Camille.”

“I know so, Dr. Reed.”

She nodded like she knew better. “Okay, go on to your next class.”