Authors: Dwayne S. Joseph
Growing Pains (9 page)
11
She said yes.
Jawan smiled, and drew a red line through a wrong answer on an exam paper he was grading.
Since he'd given Deahnna his cell number, every time his cell phone rang, Jawan had looked at it with eager anticipation, hoping it would be her. There'd been an instant chemistry between them, and his hope was that she'd felt it too, thereby prompting her to call him the next day, even though he knew the chances of that were slim because rarely did anyone ever call the very next day or, sometimes, even the day after that. But she'd said she'd been on the go all weekend, and Jawan could tell by the tone in her voice that she'd felt the connection too. He had no doubt that had her days not been so hectic, he would have heard from her sooner.
He smiled again, but then quickly frowned as he drew red lines through another two wrong answers. It was Eduardo's paper. His shoulders dropped a bit as he let out a breath filled with disappointment. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't seem to convince Eduardo that life didn't end after high school. That he could be more than just the class clown.
It was a battle he and many other teachers were fighting every day across the country, and while there were victories, there were just far too many losses. Far too many kids with defeatist attitudes, who teachers, despite their best efforts, just could not reach. Eduardo had the potential to be like LaKeisha and Brian, and a few other students he had, but in Eduardo's mind, the payoff of college and beyond just wasn't worth the effort.
Jawan frowned, wrote a large D at the top of Eduardo's test, and grabbed another exam to grade, while putting his mind back on Deahnna Moore.
She'd said yes.
He hadn't necessarily intended on asking her out so quickly, but their conversation had been so natural, so easy, and so free, that popping the question just seemed like the logical thing to do.
And she'd said yes.
Jawan smiled as he quickly ran through LaKeisha's exam. As was always the case, she'd aced it. He gave her an A and then grabbed one of two papers he had left. This one belonged to Brian. As he did, his cell phone rang. He looked at it, hoping it would be Deahnna again. But it wasn't, and the call was no less disappointing.
“What's up, fool!” he said, answering.
“JawanaMan. What's up, dude!”
Jawan smiled. When the ridiculous movie came out years ago, his cousin, Nick, automatically gave him the moniker.
Nick had moved from New York to Los Angeles to pursue his dream of becoming an Academy Awardâwinning actor. He wanted to be the next Denzel and be in an ungodly amount of movies like Samuel L. Jackson. He'd taken countless acting classes to refine and develop his craft, and had performed in numerous off-Broadway roles before making the leap to LA.
But his road to getting his star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame had taken a detour when he was approached at the gym one day and offered a payment of $5,000 to star in a film that was being shot the following day. Living life as a struggling and starving actor, the $5,000 had been just the thing Nick had needed, as his rent was two months overdue, his refrigerator and cupboards were anorexic, and he was sure his Jeep was days away from being repossessed. He did the job the next day, received the cash as promised, and before his head had hit the pillow that night, he had four more acting gigs lined up. Nick still hoped to land an Oscar, or at least a role that would propel him toward receiving one, but until then, he was content being a leading man in the adult film industry.
“What's up, cuz?” Jawan said, putting his pen down.
“Not much, dude. Just got a break between shots, and I wanted to give you a shout about something before I got back to work.”
“Work? What you do is work?”
“Shee-it, dude. You have no idea. Hittin' pussy for a living ain't all it's cracked up to be.”
“Yeah. OK.”
“I'm serious, dude. Some days I can't even get my shit up for the scenes.”
“Really?”
“Man, if it weren't for the special handlers we have on set . . .” Nick paused and blew out a breath. “It looks glamorous on the TV screen, dude, but, trust me, it's grueling work.”
“Damn, Nick. If it's that tough, then why don't you get out of the business and try to hit the mainstream?”
Nick sucked his teeth. “Dude, unless your name is Denzel, Will, Samuel, or maybe Don, Hollywood ain't tryin' to give a brotha a real role. And they most certainly are not going to pay me what I'm making now. Shit, grueling work or not, fucking pussy is a lucrative profession.”
Jawan laughed. “Yeah, I know it is.”
“You could be collecting this green too, dude. I told you I have mad movies for you to star in.”
Jawan shook his head and leaned back in his chair. “Thanks, but I'll pass. I don't think that would be a good example for the kids. I'll just leave it to you professionals.”
“Shit, dude, if you know how to bang a chick, then you're already a pro.”
Jawan laughed again. “Thanks, but I'm happy to be a spectator every now and then, catching it on Cinemax.”
“Cinemax?” Nick said. “Shit. That's baby stuff.”
“Well, it's sufficient for most people.”
“Yeah, OK. Anyway, dude, I wanted to ask you something.”
“What's up?”
“Will you be one of the groomsmen in my wedding?”
Jawan sat up in his seat. “Wedding? What? Hold up. Something's wrong with my cell, because it sounded like you were telling me that you're getting married. That's not what you were saying, was it?”
Nick laughed. “Yeah, dude. I'm getting married.”
Jawan's turn to say, “Shee-it. Nick the Dick is getting married. The world is coming to an end. So who is the, um, lucky woman? And does she know what you do for a living?”
“Her name is Cheryl Hannah, although you might know her as Mylie Stylus.”
Mylie Stylus. Behind Jenna Jameson and a few others, she was one of the bigger female stars in the porn industry. Her movies were well known.
“For real?”
“Yeah, dude. We've done a couple of movies together, and unlike with all of the other people we worked with, when we kissed and fucked, it was real, because we had a real connection. We started dating exclusively about six months ago, and I just popped the question last night.”
“Damn, cuz. Well, congrats.”
“Thanks, dude. It was unexpected, but it's real and it feels good being with her.”
“Cool. But I have to ask: with her becoming your wife, does that change how you feel about other guys having sex with her?”
“Hell yeah, it does,” Nick exclaimed. “And it's changed for her too.”
“So, how are you two going to deal with that? I mean, that's what your profession is all about.”
“We've already talked to our agents and all the directors we work with. We reworked our contracts to state that the only kind of sex we're going to have with the opposite sex will be oral. When it comes to fucking, we'll be fucking each other exclusively.”
“Oh. OK. I guess that's a good compromise,” Jawan said, cocking an eyebrow.
“Yeah. Oral ain't shit but sucking and licking. There's nothing personal about it.”
“OK,” Jawan said, not particularly buying the logic.
“So anyway, dude, we're getting married in two months and I want you to be a groomsman. I would have had you be the best man, but I had to reserve that for her dad, since it was on his film set that I first met her.”
“Her dad?”
“Yeah. He's a director.”
“Damn.”
“All you need is a plane ticket, dude. Then you can come and join the family and get paid.”
“Hmm. Intriguing, but, again, I'll respectfully pass.”
Nick laughed. “So what's up, JawanaMan. You my groomsman or what?”
“Of course.”
“Cool. The wedding's gonna be out here, but my boy Tracy's gonna throw a bachelor party for me in NYC in about a month, so I'll see you before then. And I know you're not missing that.”
“Cool. And definitely not.”
“Good stuff. So anyway, how are things on your end? Still teaching at Lane?”
“Yeah. Still here.”
“Nice. What about females? You get over your ex's ass yet and start living again?”
Jawan smiled as an image of Deahnna flashed in his mind. “Yeah, man. I did. I actually met someone.”
“Oh yeah? About damn time. So who is she and where did you meet. Was it at the library? I hear they're freakier than the chicks you meet in church.”
Jawan broke out in laughter. “I didn't meet her at the library, but I did meet her at the school. Well, the school dance.”
“Really? She's a teacher?”
“The mother of one of my students, actually.”
“Word?”
“Yeah. We were both chaperoning the dance last Friday. We kind of hit it off there. We're going out this Friday night.”
“Good stuff, dude. Sounds like it could be something.”
Jawan raised his brow. “Definitely could be.”
“Cool. Well, if she's still around when the wedding comes, make sure you bring her.”
“Will do.”
“All right, dude. They're calling me over. I'm getting a blowjob from two midget females.”
Jawan shook his head. “You're crazy, man.”
“Tell Scorsese to cast me in his next blockbuster and to pay me what Will is getting, and I'll leave this all behind. Until then, I'm busting a nut and getting paid.”
“OK, cuz,” Jawan said, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes as he laughed. “Go and suffer through it.”
“All right. I'll e-mail you info about the bachelor party and all of the wedding details in a couple of days.”
“OK, man.”
His cousin ended the call. Jawan hit the end button, put his cell down, and shook his head with a smile. “Married,” he said. “Craziness.”
He picked up his red pen, grabbed Brian's test paper, and was prepared to write an A across the top when he noticed something odd. Brian had answered the first question incorrectly. Jawan marked a red line through it, and then went to the second question, and was surprised to see that it too was wrong. He went through the rest of the paper, and when he was finished, he wrote a C- across the top.
Something wasn't right.
He knew Brian knew the answers to the questions, because he'd answered almost all of them during class discussions on different days.
Something was definitely not right.
Had his wrong answers been in retaliation for the conversation Jawan had had with him after class? Would he sabotage his grade in order to make Jawan leave his mother alone?
Jawan shook his head.
Brian wasn't that stupid. He wasn't that irresponsible.
Something else had to be behind the C-.
Jawan gathered all of the exams, putting Brian's at the top. He would have a talk with his student to find out what was going on. Brian had too much potential for something like this to be ignored. Besides, he'd meant what he'd said to Nick. Something was there with Deahnna.
If he played his cards right and the stars remained aligned, then that something could lead to him and Brian being a whole lot closer.
12
Deahnna cried.
She was doing what she had to do. Sacrificing to hold things down. Sacrificing to keep a roof over her head. Sacrificing to put food on the table, to keep the utilities on.
Her sanity.
Tiny bits of her soul.
Sacrificing.
Three nights a week. Four hours at a time. Twelve hours total. Deahnna did what she never imagined she would ever do or, for that matter, ever have to do. But life's circumstances dictated the tough, heart-wrenching decision she'd had to make, and so on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights, she left the peace and comfort of her home, hopped on the J train, and took a thirty-minute, solitary commute to a place where the only thing she didn't reveal was her name.
Deahnna cried.
While everyone stared but didn't see.
Her tears came down torrentially. Droplets as heavy as lead marbles. As cold as ice. Hard, fast, unrelenting. Unforgiving.
She cried.
While she worked her hips seductively. While she gripped a metal pole with one hand and caressed her breast with the other. While Ginuwine's classic, erotically-charged song, “Pony,” played from speakers all around her. While strangers, both familiar and unfamiliar, watched her intensely with their mouths open, their hands loosely holding on to dollar bills, or sitting heavily in their crotches.
She cried.
On the inside. Where no one ever saw.
Deahnna worked her body like a snake, going down to her knees, the metal pole sitting in the middle of her back. Her eyes stared through the men and women watching her. They all assumed she was staring at them. That was never the case. Deahnna never noticed anyone.
She got down on her hands and knees and began to crawl slowly toward the front of the stage that she commanded. She licked her lips as though they were coated with honey. She bit down on her bottom lip as if squirming around on the laminated flooring was the best sex she'd ever had. She smiled, and blew kisses to spectators who tossed dollar bills at her.
Her performance was always waited for with eager anticipation. She was the seductress who wore a mask like Zorro. Deahnna sexed the air around her to the song's hypnotic rhythm, making everyone yearn to be with her, to touch her, to kiss her, to move inside of her.
She cried as she sacrificed her self-respect for the extra cash that her full-time job didn't give her. But she continued to move, to put on her show, to entice everyone to make their hard-earned money hers, until the song came to a merciful end.
She gathered the many dollar bills lying around her on the stage as people applauded and the club's owner praised the “big ass” and “beautiful tits” she had, and then quickly shuffled off of the stage, going to the dressing rooms where two other dancers waited their turn.
She sat down, and no longer able to keep the tears buried deep, she covered her face with her hands and let them overflow and cascade down her cheeks.
“Deahnna, what's wrong, girl?”
Deahnna looked up as a small hand lay on her shoulder. One of the other dancers, Regina Tatum, stood beside her, looking down at her with a concerned frown. Regina was the senior dancer in the club. Senior meaning her age. Forty-five, with weathered skin tinged by age spots, and D-cups that hung just a little too low. A pockmarked face that looked weighted down by makeup. Regina had been stripping for close to twenty years. From LA to Vegas. From Vegas to Chicago. Chi-town to the Big Apple. She'd traveled long and she'd traveled hard. She really had no right being on the stage, but she gave lap dances that drew lines, and she also gave the club's owner head that made him moan like a cat in heat. Whether she belonged or not, as long as the lines and the owner continued to come, she could dance for as long as she wanted to.
Deahnna sniffled, reached for a tissue, and wiped her eyes. “Nothing,” she said. “I'm fine.”
“OK,” Regina said in a “yeah, right” tone. “Whatever you say, honey.”
“Really,” Deahnna said. “I just have some things I'm dealing with, but I'm OK.”
“Honey, we're all dealing with shit by being here, so stop trying to be tough and just talk to me.”
Deahnna smiled. For the most part she got along with all of the dancers in the club, but she'd developed an especially close bond with Regina. She frowned as Regina looked at her sympathetically. After a few seconds, she frowned and said, “I hate doing this job.”
Regina raised her eyebrows. “Don't we all, honey.”
“I never thought I would ever have to do something like this.”
“Believe me, I never planned on making this a career. I wanted to be a doctor or a lawyer. But I followed the wrong crowd when I was younger, and got caught up in things that took my dreams away.”
Deahnna shook her head and thought about Brian. If he ever found out what her real part-time job was . . . And then there was Jawan. The man who'd come in like a white knight. If he ever knew . . .
“I have to get out of this, Regina. But life is just so damned hard and unfair.”
“I know, honey,” Regina said, her voice soft.
Deahanna wiped her eyes with the tissue again. “I . . . I have to find something else.” She'd looked for other part-time jobs, but the problem was that in order to make what she made at the club, she'd have to put in a lot more hours. She looked at Regina. “I met someone,” she said with a smile.
“Really? He doesn't come here, does he? Because let me tell you, those relationships never work.”
“No,” Deahnna said, shaking her head emphatically. “He's actually a teacher.”
“Hmm. I see. He doesn't teach sex ed. Does he?” Regina said with a laugh.
Deahnna laughed too. Something she hadn't done all night. “No. He's an English teacher.”
“Sounds nice.”
“I have a date with him tomorrow night.”
“Good for you, honey.”
Deahnna pressed the tissue to her eyes again. “He . . . he knows I work a second job, but he doesn't know what it is. What if he starts asking me about it? I can't tell him what I do. I didn't regret agreeing to the date before, but now I'm really starting to.”
Regina squeezed her shoulder. “Honey, you've been here for six months now, and as long as I've known you, you've never talked about a man, which means this guy must be special.”
Deahnna smiled and nodded. “He is.”
“Well then go out tomorrow night and have a good time, honey.”
“And what if he asks about this job?”
“You lie.”
“But to establish a relationship based on a lieâ”
“Is the smart thing to do right now, honey.” Regina looked over her shoulder as applause and whistling erupted from the stage. She looked back to Deahnna. “Looks like I'm on. Listen, trust me on this. Go out and lie about what you do, honey. Tell him that you work for a cleaning company. Go with the flow. Let the relationship get established. When and if you need to tell him about this place, he'll hopefully know you well enough to know that this bullshit is all about doing what you have to do. Not what you want to do.”
“I . . . I guess.”
Regina leaned over and gave her a kiss on her forehead. “Trust me, honey, let him get to know you. Once he does, if you do have to tell him, he'll know that something like this can't define you. Gotta run. There are pervs and dollar bills waiting.”
“OK. Hey. Thanks, Regina.”
“Anytime, honey. See you on Saturday. Have details. Especially of the sex.”
Deahnna laughed. “I don't think that will be happening. It's only our first date.”
“And?” Regina blew her a kiss and left the room, leaving her alone.
Deahnna thought about Jawan. He'd been on her mind since their phone conversation. She'd said that sex wasn't happening, but she couldn't deny that sexual energy had existed between them the night of the dance.
Sex.
It had been awhile since she'd had any, awhile since she'd really even thought about it. But since the night of the dance, she'd definitely had a tingling between her legs.
She'd meant it when she said she didn't think anything would be happening, but in the back of her mind, she couldn't help but think that maybe she should be prepared for the unplanned.
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