Authors: L. Divine
Frenemies (12 page)
“Why? What you hiding back there?” he says, tickling me and not understanding that this isn't the time to play. I glide his hand back up to my waist while giving him a look that stops him once and for all.
“Jayd, you want to go to the mall after school?” Mickey says from the top of the steps ahead of us. Thank God for the interruption.
“Nah, I'm actually going home early,” I say, breaking the news to everyone around. “What about tomorrow? It's an early day.”
“Oh, that's right,” Mickey says with a sly smile. If it weren't for football practice and mandatory weight days when we have short days, I'm sure she and Nigel would have other plans. “All right then, Jayd. Are you feeling okay?”
“Yeah, I'm cool. I just had a doctor's appointment I forgot about, that's all,” I lie, silencing Jeremy and Mickey without any more questions. Jeremy doesn't look like he believes me but doesn't push any further. “Y'all better go before the bell rings,” I say, dumping my trash into the bin outside the office door.
“All right, baby. I'll call you after school,” Jeremy says, kissing me on the lips before heading through the double doors, right behind Chance, who nods me good-bye. When I finally enter the double doors and make a right toward the attendance office, I can see Nellie up ahead talking to Misty. Noticing my approach, they both head out in opposite directions. What the hell do they have to talk about?
I feel something very bad stirring in the wind. All this gossiping is going a bit too far. Maybe my dream about Nellie's rotten mouth was alluding to her spreading shit around about Mickey. I know KJ and his boys are the ones with grills, but it looks like Nellie's the real yuck mouth around here. Whatever mess she's gotten herself into with Misty, I hope she's ready for the repercussions, because knowing Mickey, payback will definitely be a bad bitch.
12
The Cuss-Out
“I said you hold back and if you ain't heard /
But them are fighting words.”
But them are fighting words.”
âMACY GRAY
W
hen I got home yesterday from school, I changed my clothes, took a shower and went straight to bed and stayed there until this morning. I had to spend my break and lunch today making up my homework from last night. Luckily I was able to get my English homework done in Spanish class; my first period's always boring. I'm actually looking forward to kicking it at the mall with Mickey, if for no other reason than to see if I can exchange this bag Jeremy got for me. I've been hiding it in my locker all day and still don't know what to do.
hen I got home yesterday from school, I changed my clothes, took a shower and went straight to bed and stayed there until this morning. I had to spend my break and lunch today making up my homework from last night. Luckily I was able to get my English homework done in Spanish class; my first period's always boring. I'm actually looking forward to kicking it at the mall with Mickey, if for no other reason than to see if I can exchange this bag Jeremy got for me. I've been hiding it in my locker all day and still don't know what to do.
“Jayd, are you ready?” Mickey says as I close my locker and head toward the end of the barren hall. Mickey usually parks in the back parking lot; her pink Regal is too special to be with all the popular kids' cars.
“Yes, I am,” I say as Alicia Keys announces Rah's call. “What up, man?” I say, happy to hear from him. We texted each other yesterday, but I haven't talked to him since Sunday.
“Nothing, shawty. What are you up to?” he asks.
“Well, right now I'm about to get into Mickey's car and ride up to the mall. And you,” I say, knowing his school's on the same schedule as mine, like all the other schools in our district.
“I was about to head up to your school and work out with my boy. You leaving right now?” he says, sounding as cute as ever. It wouldn't be a good idea for Mickey and I to be in the weight room. That's how rumors get started, and we already have enough of that going around as it is.
“Yes. You know I have things to do, people to see,” I tease. Jeremy's surfing with his crew, so it's just me and my girl this afternoon.
“Whatever, man. Sounds like you're avoiding me,” Rah says, trying to make me feel guilty. But it isn't going to work. I don't like his pressuring me about my Jeremy right now. “Or have you finally come to your senses and decided to take that bribe bag back?” How does he read my mind like that?
“You know what, Rah?” I say, trying to divert his radar; I have enough people in my head already. “You think too much. I'll holla back,” I say, sitting down in the hot car as Mickey turns on the engine, the speakers immediately bumping E-40's bass line, putting me in a good mood.
“You do that. Peace, queen,” he says, sounding like he's from the east coast. His dad's originally from New York, and even though he's on lockdown in Atlanta, they still talk often, sharing knowledge however they can. I know Rah and Kamal miss their dad, especially with a crazy mama like theirs at home. And the South ain't nothing nice, especially not when a brotha's got three strikes, so I know it has to be hard for him, too.
“Peace, Rah,” I say before folding my phone shut. I reach into my backpack and retrieve my dilapidated fake Coach bag, slipping the cell back inside.
“Girl, you need a new purse,” Mickey says as she pulls out of the overpacked parking lot heading toward the Galleria with the majority of the crowd. Whoever's not going to the beach is definitely going to the mall. “I think Macy's is having a sale. I have some coupons in my purse.” I take out my leather Lucky satchel and hold it, showing her my guilt gift.
“I already have one,” I say, sounding sad. I really want this bag, but it's the principle of it all that's killing it for me. Jeremy and I still haven't finished our discussion about his racist daddy, and I need some answers. I feel like if I wear this bag, I can't continue to grill him about that or Tania, and that isn't worth it to me.
“Damn, girl, you hit the jackpot,” she says, almost hitting the car in front of us as she grabs the fly bag off my lap. “Why you ain't wearing it?”
“Because it's hush money,” I say, finally speaking the words out loud. Rah's right; I can't keep this bag. But I hate to let it go.
“What the hell are you talking about, Jayd?” Mickey says, turning down the music so she can hear me better. All the White folks gawk at us as we cruise down Artesia while playing our loud-ass sounds. I know they're thinking
What are those ghetto girls doing here?
And Mickey's gangstered-out Compton bumper sticker doesn't help them to think otherwise, which is just fine with me. We already look out of place with all the Audis and Land Cruisers driving by. But like Daddy says, classic cars are made to last, and so is Black culture. It's one of his favorite sermons to preach when Bryan starts to complain about wanting a new car.
What are those ghetto girls doing here?
And Mickey's gangstered-out Compton bumper sticker doesn't help them to think otherwise, which is just fine with me. We already look out of place with all the Audis and Land Cruisers driving by. But like Daddy says, classic cars are made to last, and so is Black culture. It's one of his favorite sermons to preach when Bryan starts to complain about wanting a new car.
“The only reason Jeremy bought me this purse was to keep me from asking him about Tania and his daddy,” I say, clutching the bag close as we circle the parking lot, looking for a spot close to the door. Mickey likes to be close to all exits wherever she goes; according to her, you never know when you'll have to make a run for it.
“Jayd, you get too caught up in the whys and hows of shit,” she says, expertly parking the car and turning off the engine. “You need to sport that bag like a trophy that you earned for putting up with that White boy and his bull.” She grabs her large Dooney & Bourke bag before getting out. Her man leaves her wanting for nothing. Well, all except for Nigel apparently, because she can't get enough of him. I sure do hope she's using protection, not that it'll save her from the beating her man will give her if he finds out about Nigel.
“I can't do that. Besides, I wanted to buy the bag myself,” I say, grabbing both my new bag and old purse before joining Mickey on the other side of the car. “He took all the fun out of me having it.”
“Girl, you need to reevaluate the way you deal with dudes,” she says, leading the way into the crowded mall. The smell of various perfumes overwhelms my nose, making me sneeze.
“Bless you,” says the saleslady behind the counter.
“Thank you,” I say, walking past her counter and toward the shoe and purse section. I love the smell of new leather.
“Jayd, are you seriously going to take back that two-hundred-dollar bag your rich boyfriend bought so you can spend your own hard-earned money on it? That makes absolutely no sense to me.” Well, when Mickey puts it like that, it does sound kind of stupid. But I've got to do it, no matter how it makes me look.
“Mickey, I'd feel terrible if I kept this bag, and that's that,” I say, approaching the counter with my bag in its original wrapping, stuffing included. I didn't bring the shopping bag, because it wouldn't fit in my backpack, and I didn't want to risk getting it dirty on the bus.
“May I help you?” the snooty White lady says from her register without looking up.
“Yes, I'd like to return this bag,” I say, placing the brown beauty on the counter. I am going to miss her. But the next time we're together, it'll be for the right reasons and feel much better. The lady looks at the bag, then up at me, then at Mickey. I know she thinks we stole it; it's written all over her face.
“Do you have a receipt?” she asks, anticipating a negative response.
“Uh, no. It was a gift,” I say, feeling nervous. This trick looks like she's caught Bonnie and Clyde red-handed. Damn, not this shit again. Mickey's looking around for the exits, and I'm right with her.
“And you didn't receive a gift receipt or a shopping bag at the very least?” she says, inspecting the immaculate purse with a twisted look on her face. If I were White or looked like I had money, my not having a receipt wouldn't be an issue, I'm sure.
“Look, lady,” Mickey says, pissed at this broad's attitude. “She just wants to return the damned bag. The price tag's on it, and it hasn't been worn, so what's the problem?” Mickey's antagonizing the already irritated saleswoman, who has now called her manager over to help deal with us.
“The problem is,” the manager says, an older White man who looks like the pimp of the place, “we don't accept merchandise exchanges without both a sales receipt and shopping bag. We've had a serious problem with shoplifting in this store,” he adds, basically accusing us without saying it. See, now he's pissed me off.
“That's bullshit,” I say, losing my cool. “I've been in here plenty of times, and I've seen other customers return merchandise without either. Just admit it, you think I stole this bag and have the nerve to bring it back here for money.”
“Well, I didn't say that,” he says, smiling a slick grin. “But if and when you find the receipt, you're more than welcome to return the gift.” He and the saleslady look victorious as Mickey and I admit defeat and retreat toward the food court.
“Punk-ass bitches,” Mickey says loud enough for them to hear as we head out the department store and into the busy mall. “I told you to keep the damned bag.” I laugh.
“Yeah, yeah,” I say, still unconvinced of her last statement. I'm just going to have to get the receipt from Jeremy, which ain't going to be pretty. “You want a lemonade? My treat,” I offer as we glide up the tall escalator. This mall has the prettiest landscaping I've ever seen. It feels like I'm inside a greenhouse with all the tall plants and bright light throughout.
“Sounds good.” As we step off and get in line at Hot Dog On a Stick, I get a strange feeling that someone's watching me. I turn around and see Misty, Nellie, Tania, Laura, KJ and the rest of South Central hanging out in the food court. Just what we need, more drama.
“You see them tricks over there hating?” Mickey says, sharing my view. “I need to continue Nellie's ass-whooping while I have the chance.” But before Mickey makes a move, Misty's already on her way over to us. Nellie gets a worried look on her face, and now I know something's about to go down.
“What's up, y'all?” Misty says, trying to make small talk. With a mouth as big as hers, that will always be an impossible mission.
“What's up is that I saw you and Nellie chatting in the office yesterday,” I say, diffusing any chance she has of gaining Mickey's trust. “What was that all about?”
“Damn, Jayd, why are you so suspicious all the time?” Misty says, rolling her neck and causing her long curly hair to whip from one side of her round behind to the other. KJ must be having a field day getting her sprung on him.
“Because she knows you, Misty,” Mickey says, stepping out of line and toward her. “So spill it. What's up with Nellie?” As I order our drinks, Mickey pulls Misty off to the side and gets her version of the latest scoop, while Nellie watches from across the way.
“Speak up a little bit. It's busy in here,” I say, handing Mickey the ice-cold drink while Misty continues her ex-posé.
“Well, like I said,” Misty continues, not even trying to be discreet. This girl can't be trusted as anyone's true friend; Misty's too caught up in the glory of being the gossip queen of South Bay. Like Nellie's crown, it is a fictional honor admired only by the bored and delusional. “When Mickey came into the office a couple of weeks ago to clear her absences, Nellie let it slip in front of Mr. Langley, the assistant principal over attendance, that she saw you and Nigel sneak off campus, and he's investigating your and Nigel's absences as we speak. Y'all are in some deep shit if he finds out the truthâespecially you, Mickey.”
“Slip, my ass,” Mickey says with venom dripping from her words.
“Mickey, wait,” I say, holding her back from going after Nellie. “Look at the messenger before you go over there. It's Misty.” I cut my eyes at my doppelgänger. Misty loves this, and she also loves the fact that, for once, no one's out to beat her ass. But I'm sure it's only a temporary shift in the atmosphere. Misty's always got enemies, even if right now they're nowhere to be found.
“Do you really think she made all that up? Nellie's been dying to get back at me for being with Nigel,” Mickey says, looking me in the eye and seeing the truth for herself. I didn't tell her about Nellie's suspicious behavior yet because I wanted to get all my facts straight before coming to her, unlike Misty, who's just out for blood. KJ, Shae and the rest of the folks look our way as Mickey's voice rises, causing all chatter to cease. Nellie, hearing Mickey's words, begins to walk away, with her new crew right behind her. But she can't get away from Mickey this time.
“Hey, Nellie, can I have a word with you?” Mickey says, walking toward the escalator and blocking Nellie's escape attempt, with me right behind her. Laura and Tania back up; they don't want any part of this mess.
“What is it, Mickey? I'm kind of in a rush,” Nellie says, sounding more like Tania every day. Before Nellie can work up the nerve to say anything else, Mickey flings her extra-large lemonade in Nellie's face and slaps her down to the ground. Here we go.
“Damn,” the onlookers say in unison. As Nellie tries to regain her footing on the slippery floor, Mickey pushes her back down, talking mad shit. All the crowd's oohs and aahs can be heard throughout the otherwise silent space.
“Mickey, stop before you really hurt her,” I say as I try to hold Mickey back with my free hand. She may have wasted her lemonade, but I'm not wasting mine.
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