Fast Life (5 page)

A
t noon the following day, Kyra and her mother were crossing the water that separated the islands of Prince Paul and Providenciales. The sun was shining, but there was no breeze to offer relief from the heat. The sky was clear, and the water was the crystal blue the Caribbean was famous for.

As the ferry parted the waters, Kyra sat on a bench in the small closed cabin and stared out the porthole. In the distance, she could see the hotel resorts that dotted the coastline. Kyra admired the long stretches of sandy white beaches. Providenciales appeared to be a lively place with lots of people, and she liked that. Prince Paul was as nice as it was quiet. Being from Chicago, she wasn't used to that. She loved the hustle.

Once the ferry pulled into port, Kyra's mother navigated their Jeep onto the dock amid a slew of other cars and people. The island of Providenciales was larger than Prince Paul, and home to more businesses. Downtown, Kyra made a mental note of the shops and boutiques. She also noticed other places—nightspots, a spa and an old-style movie theater.

The Jeep came to a halt in front of the Sands at Grace Bay Resort, putting an end to Kyra's sightseeing. The short ride to the oceanside hotel was not long enough to prepare them for the beauty of the six three-story buildings that comprised the hotel and the lush tropical landscaping that surrounded them.

Kyra could still hear the roar of the waves as she entered the lobby. She appreciated its laid-back décor as her mother headed over to the reservation desk, where a tall, dark, thin, muscular man was waiting. He had glistening dark brown eyes, and his dark brown hair was in little dreadlocks. His fitted tan suit hung well on his handsome frame.

“Hi, I take it you are Mrs. Jones.” The man took her mother's hand in his and shook it firmly, smiling to reveal his straight white teeth. She smiled back at the gentleman.

“Yes. And you are…?”

“My name is Matthew Daniels. I'm your new boss. We spoke on the phone.”

“Oh! Hello. I'm sorry!” Geneva let out a small chuckle, realizing her mistake.

“And I take it this pretty young lady is Kyra?” Matthew said, turning his attention to Kyra and shaking her hand.

“Yes, this is my daughter.” Her mother beamed with pride.

“Nice to meet you. I see where you get your beautiful looks from.”

“Yeah.” Kyra plastered a fake smile on her face and offered a limp handshake.

“Well! Should we get this tour moving? I don't know about you two, but I haven't eaten all day, and I cannot wait for lunch.” Matthew let out a nervous laugh in an attempt to enliven the mood.

“Me, neither,” Geneva said, even though she had eaten breakfast before they left the house that morning. Kyra couldn't help rolling her eyes at the useless lie and her mother's rusty method of flirting.

 

By the time they made it home, Kyra was thankful to be there. She slipped her shoes off at the door and was in midstride when her mother called out to her.

“Hey, put your shoes back on. We have to head to the grocery store if you plan to eat tonight. Matthew told me about a place at lunch, and I would like to pick up a few more things.”

“I don't wanna go.”

“And I don't want to hear it. Let's go. We can even take the car if you want.”

“Dang! Okay, I'll go.” Kyra let out a sigh as she gave up the fight and headed out the door beside her mother.

 

The old-fashioned grocery store was located on the east side of the island and was outfitted with a 1960s-style gas station in front. There were absolutely no credit card machines or security cameras.

Kyra tiptoed behind her mother as she watched her weave through the aisles, pick an item up, inspect it, and then place it in her basket. She was feeling anxious and her palms were sweating. She bit her lip in a feeble effort to exercise self-control, but she couldn't help herself.

“So what do you think of Matthew?”

Her mother paused for a moment, clearly caught off guard by the nature of her daughter's question.

“Well, he seems like a really nice guy, very intelligent, handsome. Oh, I don't know. But that reminds me, earlier I got the impression that you didn't care for him. Why were you acting like that toward him? He hasn't done anything to you.”

“He talks too much. Blah, blah, blah. He needs to have a Mute button. Plus, he seems a little
too
nice. He was probably just actin' like that because he's feelin' you—at least, I hope so, for his sake. Anybody that soft is a disgrace. He has no manliness to him.”

“Oh, stop it! He is not
feelin'
me or whatever you want to call it.” She clutched the small plastic basket, and for the first time in the conversation turned her eyes toward her daughter. “What made you think he likes me?”

“Mmm, hmm, see, you asked me why I think he likes you. That must mean you like him, too, don't you?”

“No. I barely even know the man. And yes, I realize that he does talk a lot, but he holds good conversation.”

“Yeah, I bet.” Kyra rolled her eyes.

“Well, maybe if you said more than two words to the man you would know.”

“I'm just sayin' you don't want to rush into things.”

“You know you need to stop. I know what you're doing. But don't you even start in about your father, because I can tell that's what you're beating around the bush about. And I just want you to notice how I didn't bring up anything else about you drooling over some dreadlock wearing skinny li'l boy. How you've been staring off into space today is more than enough to make me think you
like
him. Now shut up and just let me shop if all you want to talk about is me and Matthew, because in all honesty, it's really none of your business.”

Kyra would have usually snapped back with a smart remark, but she couldn't say a word. Her mother had her there, and by the tone of her voice, Kyra knew not to push her any further or she'd run the risk of raising her mother's fiery temper.

 

Once they were back at home and settled, her mother started to prepare dinner. Kyra shut her door to block out the clanging of pots her mother was using in the kitchen. She listened to the lock click in place and began making a call on her cell phone. She was surprised she could even get a signal, being where she was.

The light shone against her cheek and was blinding in the darkness as she perched on her bed, swinging her feet until, after five rings, someone picked up.

“Hello?”

“It's me! Don't tell me you forgot me already!” Kyra felt instantly relieved when she heard Natasha's familiar voice.

“Hey! I didn't even look at the caller ID. My bad.”

“It's cool. So whaddup?” She was now at ease, able to release the tension in her muscles. The thought that her friend might have forgotten about her had raised fear.

“Uh-uh. I need to be asking you that! How is it? Is it beautiful like what I be seeing on TV?”

“Yeah, it's all right.”

“So what you been doing since you been there? Hit a beach or something yet?”

“When we got here we had to take a ferry, which had me all throwin' up. Then we had to walk to the house in the hot-ass sun. It's crazy hot down here. Then me and my ma hit up this little market yesterday, and I met this boy named Justin….”

“Uh-oh! Tell me 'bout him!”

“He cute and everythin', and he was cool, I guess. Even with his dreads.”

“Hmm, sounds like we might have a little crush on our hands?”

“Hell naw! Ain't nobody like my baby Kai. Man, I miss him,” she cooed.

“Yeah, yeah. I know ain't no nigga hitting those draws but him.”

“Heffa, shut up! Ain't nothin' poppin' off down here.”

“Well, let me fill you in on what's been happening up here in ya hometown! Now, as you know, the Black and White Party went down last night. It was fiyah! It was just too crazy, girl! Tons of celebs rolled through, too. And yes, Cedes did get an autograph from Chingy.” Natasha chuckled as she continued to fill Kyra in.

“Damn, it sounds like it was so fun,” Kyra said, doing her best to hide her sadness.

“Yeah it was. I wish you had been there, though.”

“Me, too. But uh, speakin' of Cedes, how's she doin'?”

“She's umm…okay, I guess. Same ol' Mercedes doin' what she always do. Just out running the streets being a ho.”

“Damn, you harsh for that.”

After the conversation with Natasha, Kyra hung up and dialed Makai's home and cell numbers. She even sent a text message to his two-way. She called more than once on each line and soon grew frustrated and upset. The sound of his voicemail was beginning to disturb her, and she threw her phone on the floor. Makai had never been so hard to reach in all of their years of dating. The new mystery of what he was doing and the possibility of who he could be doing it with left Kyra feeling insecure, with too many doubts. Nightmarish scenarios ran through her mind as she snuggled under the covers and flicked on the TV. She didn't bother to pay it any attention before she drifted off into a light sleep.

 

Sunday afternoon Kyra's mother burst through Kyra's white double doors into her bedroom with a package. “Wake up, sleepyhead! It's almost one o'clock, and you got something in the mail!”

Kyra sat up, aggravated by her mother's unwelcome entrance. She took a seat on the edge of her bed as her mother handed over the package. Kyra tore at the package and even began to think it was a gift from Makai but realized no one had her new address yet. If that wasn't enough, once she opened the package it revealed a short red plaid skirt, a white button-down shirt, knee-high black socks and shiny black shoes. Topping it off was a small gray cotton sweater.

“What in the world is this?” Kyra asked as she looked over the clothes. She held the items as if they were disgusting rags.

“It's your school uniform. I want you to try it on to make sure it fits.”

“I'm not wearin' a uniform. Especially somethin' this…this…hideous, 'cause
ugly
sure ain't the word.”

“Shush and go try it on.”

Kyra sucked her teeth and dragged herself into the bathroom with the uniform clutched in her hands. All the while, she hoped that maybe the uniform would be too small or too big and that she could wear her own clothes until she got another one. Maybe with luck she could buy some time. But luck was not on her side. It was a perfect fit.

“Okay, now turn around. You look so adorable!” Geneva Jones squealed as she watched Kyra do a slow turn. She was beaming while her child frowned.

“Adorable? I'm sixteen, Mom, and you're usin' li'l kid words like I'm four. This is so ugly! Do I have to wear this?” She whined and fidgeted in what felt like a Halloween costume.

“Sorry, it's the rules. Besides, I personally think it's for your own good. I see how you girls dress these days, and if you ask me, they need to have uniforms everywhere. If one thing isn't hanging out it's another. You would think you girls would be ashamed to be so exposed. Whatever happened to leaving something to the imagination?”

 

Monday morning Kyra was up and ready to go. She had her backpack over her shoulder and had applied her own style to her uniform. Her braided ponytails finished off the look. She proudly pranced into the kitchen, where her mother sat sipping her cup of coffee.

“Mom, I'm ready to go,” she announced.

Her mother turned around in her peach-colored pantsuit. She almost choked on her coffee when she saw her daughter's outfit. She eyed her from head to toe, from the skirt pulled up higher than it should have been to the shirt knotted to showcase her pierced navel. Kyra's sweater was fastened with only two buttons, so as to flaunt her cleavage, while gum danced between her teeth.

“Uh-uh! You can't go to school looking like that! You're going to wrinkle your blouse like that!” Geneva Jones quickly set her mug down and rushed over to straighten out her daughter's uniform.

“Mom! Quit! I needed to do somethin' with it! Ain't nothin' wrong with showin' some stomach and legs. It's hotter than a mug out there. And it's only what—seven a.m.?”

“Honey, I really don't know what to tell you. This place isn't like your old school. You are just going to have to grin and bear it,” her mother said, turning to the sink to pour the remaining coffee from her mug.

“No shit,” Kyra mumbled under her breath. “Anyways, can you drop me off now?”

“No. I have to be at work by eight, and I still have to take the ferry. I don't have time to drop you off. You have to get to school by yourself from now on.”

“Man,” Kyra sighed. “Okay, where's the bus stop?”

“Kyra, there are no buses. God forbid, but you have to walk.”