Holidaze (22 page)

English and Spanish were especially grueling this morning, with pop quizzes in both classes. I’m sure having Mr. Adewale as my teacher in two classes will eventually make me a better student, but right now I’m not feeling the love for his teaching style. And with Ms. Toni up my ass about associating with him, I’m not sure I should continue confiding in him, even if he is the only person at this school who gets me.

On my way to the English hall where my first AP meeting will be held, I notice Misty sitting in the quad with KJ and friends. Please tell me this trick isn’t braiding hair. When the hell did she learn how to cornrow? Misty never had the patience or style to braid before. Noticing my amazement, Misty can’t help but say something.

“What, you think you’re the only black girl who can braid hair? You’re so full of yourself, Jayd. Get over it already,” Misty says, cocking KJ’s head to the side just like I would. Most people would have the client hold their ear back instead. I don’t even have a comeback I’m so shocked. Misty’s snatching my life right before my eyes, and I feel powerless to do anything about it.

“Hey, Jayd,” Jeremy says, falling into step with me as I continue my trek across the yard. I grabbed a churro to snack on during the meeting. Hopefully the sugar will keep me awake. “So you didn’t answer me about Valentine’s Day next Saturday.” Jeremy’s so sweet. But the last thing on my mind is celebrating another damned holiday when I’m still feeling ill from the last one.

“Next weekend is too far away.” Jeremy smiles down at me and I can’t help but smile back. Jeremy continues with his love day plans, completely ignoring my protest.

“I was thinking we could catch a movie. How about that new horror love story that’s out? I think it’s called
Voodoo Valentine
or something like that. The previews look scary as shit.” This is the problem with dating a white boy who knows nothing about our history. I want to cuss him out on so many levels I don’t know where to begin, so I won’t.

“Jeremy, I can’t deal with this right now. I have to get to my meeting,” I say as we approach Ms. Malone’s class. She’s the best English teacher on the AP track, and I’m glad I have her this year. “But for the record, I hate horror films.” I walk into the classroom, leaving Jeremy and his dumbass movie behind. If I can make it through the rest of the day without hurting someone it will be a miracle.

Misty braiding KJ’s hair has been bothering me all day. I can’t explain why, but I do feel like I’m the only black girl at this school who should braid, even if it’s the furthest thing from the truth. Misty’s invading my territory and I can’t focus long enough to figure how to kick her ass once and for all.

“A diva is a female version of a hustler,”
Beyoncé sings, announcing a call. It’s Rah. I haven’t heard from him since he stormed off at Netta’s shop over the weekend. I haven’t tried to call him because I’ve been too involved in my own shit to worry about him and his jealous tendencies. Besides, I’m not the one in the wrong this time around. He’s been screwing up a lot lately, and I’m sick of it. Whether or not Misty has anything to do with his mistakes, I think he should still know better.

“Sorry how I acted with you and Nigel Saturday. My bad,” he says as soon as I flip the phone open.

“Apology accepted.” For now. I make my way to the crowded parking lot, ready to leave Redondo Beach behind for the afternoon. The sooner I get home the quicker I can get started on all of my homework, not to mention my spirit work. I have to record my dreams in my notebook, and with the various visions I’ve had I can’t seem to keep up.

“So I was thinking we should stay in for Valentine’s Day. You know, just chill. How does that sound?” I can tell by the tone of his voice that his version of chilling is making out all night. It’s been awhile since we’ve had a night to ourselves, but I’m not going out like that, especially not after the way he’s been acting lately.

“Oh, I see. You want to run around making project twins with me and your other woman. Well, no thank you to being one of your baby mamas,” I say through the cell. My head is getting hot and that alone is blurring my vision. Luckily I’m safe in my mom’s car, where none of the other students notice my escalating conversation.

“Why do you keep talking about having my baby, Jayd? What aren’t you telling me?” Rah knows I’m not pregnant because my name’s not Mary and my baby’s name—no matter when I have it—will not be Jesus.

“Rah, I’m under a lot of pressure,” I say, holding my head in my hands. My headache is coming back and I know it’s because of this argument. “And why can’t you go to the dance anyway? It’s the day before the actual holiday.” He pauses slightly before answering.

“Because Nigel and I are going to the dance at Westingle Friday night. It’s business, baby.”

“Business my ass, Rah. Y’all are going with Trish and Tasha, aren’t you?”

“It’s not what you think. Nigel needs to talk to the coaches up there and see if they’ll let him back on the team, just in case your punk-ass school kicks him out.”

“Tell me anything, Rah,” I say, starting the engine. I knew Nigel wasn’t ready to marry Mickey, no matter what Misty tried to do to him on Mickey’s behalf. Whatever they did to my boy didn’t stick after me, Mama, and Netta got in his head last weekend. Rah pauses and lets out a sigh, like I’m the one being difficult. He’d better check himself and quickly.

“I see you, boo. No matter what you’re going through, Jayd, I got you. You know that, right?” Rah’s insincere sincerity has worked my last nerve for the last time. Who does he think he’s dealing with? In my family we take seeing someone very seriously. Rah’s just trying to win my sympathy and it’s not flying.

“Forget seeing. You need to recognize, Rah.” I need to remind him of who he’s got in me—forget what he’s heard from any of the broads he’s dealing with. What is it with guys and pulling stupid shit on us like we’re too blind to see the blatant disrespect and disregard for our feelings? “I don’t really give a damn what they teach you fools about communication, but I’m done with trying to rationalize the shit. I told you exactly what I wanted and needed and you chose to ignore my request time and time again. So I’m done asking. I’m out,” I say, hanging up the phone and heading home. How did we get to this point in our relationship yet again?

“I hate it when people refer to voodoo and they don’t know what the hell they’re talking about,” Mama says, banging pots and pans in the kitchen. Even though I haven’t been home for a good two minutes, I can already tell she’s in a mood. “These fools on the news compared a crooked-ass Wall Street’s lack of financial prowess to a voodoo curse. What the hell?”

“Mama, don’t let them work your nerves. You know how it is,” I say, peeking into the steaming pots. Mama’s making a pot roast with red potatoes and carrots. I can also smell her homemade rolls baking in the oven, or rather burning. “Mama, is that smoke?” I ask before opening the oven. The white cloud escapes the hot space, choking us both.

“Damn it,” Mama says, exasperated. She pushes me to the side and takes out the pan holding two dozen blackened circles. “I asked for one thing, and your grandfather couldn’t be bothered to get me that. Where’s the real Santa when you need him?” All Mama wanted was a new stove for Christmas, and if I recall, she asked for one last year and the year before that, but to no avail.

I guess Daddy’s deaf when it comes to hearing Mama’s wishes, but I’m not. I’m going to get to work on getting her one for Mother’s Day. If I braid enough heads and work enough hours at Netta’s, I should be able to afford something if I ever get my mojo back. And maybe I can get my mom and Bryan to chip in. It would make it a larger family effort, but that never works out well.

“We have to be our own Santas,” I say, hugging Mama’s shoulders. She looks like she’s at her wit’s end, and my issues with Misty aren’t helping any.

“You know, Maman used to say that to me all of the time when I was a baby.” Mama turns around to look at me. “If you don’t keep your word you have nothing, Jayd. Remember that.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I say. I feel Mama on that one, for sure. Even little things like being on time are important in my world. And big things, like buying Mama a new oven, should be in Daddy’s world. Maybe he needs a little reminder.

“So tell me, what have you seen lately in your dreams?” Before Mama can continue, the same news story comes back on the small kitchen television and again catches Mama’s attention, reigniting her fire.

“Mama, why do you watch this madness? It’s just there to piss people off,” I say, washing my hands in the sink before taking a big ball of dough to bake another dozen biscuits. I don’t know if there will be enough for everyone, nor do I care. As long as I get my share of the soft treats I’m good.

“Because it’s nice to know where the world is, even if we’re not always participants in it.” Mama joins me in my kneading while continuing to watch the program.

“The investor says that his family has been cursed with bad luck for generations and sees this recent financial disaster as further proof that the curse still exists,”
the news anchor says. Mama’s jaw tightens and the dough in her manicured hands feels the brunt of her frustration.

“If they only knew how stupid they sound, especially when there are real curses out there.” I know Mama’s talking about the one over my head. She’s still worried about me sleeping properly, but I’m more worried about Misty reigning as the most popular black girl on campus, a title that once belonged to me. Not that I care about the words so much, it’s the crown that I’m concerned with. This trick has managed to twist up my world by writing and chanting a few words Esmeralda gave her, and I’m not feeling this shit at all.

“I feel you, Mama. But they always compare voodoo with unknown tragedy. Isn’t that sort of correct, no matter how ignorant the intent?”

“No,” Mama says, throwing the sticky dough on the cutting board. “There’s no mystery to how we do our work, at least not for the faithful. It’s cause and effect, plain and simple. If someone did put a curse on him and his family, who did it and why? If he were concerned with the right shit, he’d be able to fix it. But no, he’d rather blame our innocent ancestors, who could care less about him and his money. Dumbass,” Mama says, making me smile. I love it when Mama gets all riled up. And honestly, this conversation, and being in the kitchen cooking dinner with Mama, and not making a potion, is just the sense of normalcy I need. Life is crazy right now, and I’m not feeling very powerful in it.

“Could you pass me the bowl of butter, please?” Mama passes me the bowl of melted butter to dip the biscuits in before placing them on the lined cookie sheet without missing a beat of her rant.

“It reminds me of when that politician in Georgia hired a priestess do some work for her, and then stopped payment on the check when the priestess didn’t agree to kill her opponent, which wasn’t in the initial agreement. That politician was stupid and unfaithful because first of all, she didn’t want to admit to requesting the work, even though the priestess had proof. And she dared to piss off a priestess. Had she truly had faith in the work in the first place, she would have never angered the priestess because who knows what repercussions would’ve followed? Magic, Jayd. That’s what some people subscribe to, and they get what they deserve in the end, always. Every time.”

“That’s what Mickey wanted, and she got it from Misty, I guess.” Mama shifts her attention from the tiny television screen above the microwave and looks deep into my eyes. I want to cry, I’m so frustrated.

“Mama, I feel like I’m living inside of a dream world where Misty’s me and I’m Misty.” Mama’s eyes begin to glow as she probes my mind. I relax and let Mama do her thing. I remember last night’s dream about Misty stealing my sight as Mama looks through my eyes.

“What have I told you about sleeping when you don’t want to?”

“To control it.”

“And, to wake up. If you’d done that, Misty wouldn’t have been able to get in your head in the first place. Be purposeful in your intent to dream. Focus on what you want to dream about and watch it manifest, not the other way around.”

Mama’s right. I need to get out of this funk, and the only way to do that is by kicking Misty’s ass the old fashioned way, damn the positive thinking. Tonight I’m going to request going all the way back to when Misty and I first became friends. As the saying goes, if I’d known then what I know now, I would’ve never gotten close to the broad in the first place. And that’s what I’m working on fixing—no magic needed.

H
ere we go again. I can feel myself walking around the house in the dark, but there’s nothing I can do to control it. I hear chanting outside, and my feet are moving toward the sounds even if the hair standing all over my body tells me to turn away. I can’t. I still have no control over my dream world, and this time I know there’s nothing good for me to see.

“There she is,” I hear Esmeralda whisper. Why is she outside this late at night? “Don’t let her get away this time. We need her eyes.” And who is she talking to?

“Don’t worry. I’ve got her
,”
Misty says. They are calling me outside onto the front porch. I haven’t exited through the front door alone since my painful run-in with Esmeralda months ago that caused my original headache. Even in my dream state I should know better than to leave the house where Esmeralda could take another shot at me. “I’m going to cast a dream net. Make sure you get the vision as she sees it.”

“I see it coming,” Misty says enthusiastically. I can’t help but dream, and she’s trying to steal it just like my mother warned me about in my last vision. What the hell?

“Good. I’ll keep her grandmother occupied. Remember what I told you,” Esmeralda says. What does she mean she’ll keep Mama occupied? No wonder Mama hasn’t come looking for me. Esmeralda’s got something on her, too. Damn it. I need to get stronger, and fast, before they take us both out.

Misty’s waiting for me next door on Esmeralda’s front porch. Her eyes have again changed from light brown to blue, just like Esmeralda’s. I can’t let them get away with this. She has a bow and arrow, like an evil cupid, and here comes her godmother with the net to catch my dream. I have to wake up—now.

“Jayd, wake your ass up, girl. Now,”
Mama shouts from behind me. Whatever Esmeralda tried to put on Mama obviously didn’t work because I’m coming to.
“Control your thoughts, Jayd and wake up.”

Mama holds onto my shoulders and leads me back inside. I look at Mama’s fearful gaze with tears in my eyes. This is the last day we’re going through this shit.

I know Misty hates me, but damn. Does she have to hate on a sistah all of the time? Even Muhammad Ali got a break from his opponents at some point, and Britney Spears herself even got a slight reprieve from the media. But Misty just never seems to let up. Mama says it’s because she’s an infallible force of nature. I think they should have hurricanes named after the girl. Like water and wind, she can be deadly when she’s got another force behind her like Esmeralda’s wicked ass.

Mama says Misty’s presence is needed in my life—much like Esmeralda’s is needed in hers—to let me know what I should and shouldn’t do, how I should and shouldn’t act, and who I should aim to be. And believe me, Misty gives me plenty of inspiration to be a different kind of sistah. And this morning I’m going to tell her exactly how I feel.

I approach Misty in the main hall with the attitude of ten thousand angry women. Unfortunately we have a crowd this morning, but I’m not tripping. She’s still going to get an earful from me, and I don’t care who hears it.

“Misty, I need to holler at you real quick,” I say as she passes my locker. She stops with her entourage behind her and smiles.

“Damn, Jayd. It sounds like Nellie was right. You do need some love in your life,” Misty says, causing the audience to snicker. “Another lonely Valentine’s Day coming up, boo?” Misty needs to lose that smirk on her face and I’m in just the mood to be of service to my former friend.

“I doubt it. She’s used to stealing everyone else’s man. I’m sure someone will keep her company,” Mickey says, standing next to Nellie. Okay, I know I’m tripping if they’re all on the same side against me. This is just too much to handle—almost too much.

“What the hell are you talking about? I didn’t take anyone’s man.” Why am I defending myself? I know these tricks are under Misty’s spell, but still. As long as Mickey, Nellie, and I have been each other’s allies, their better judgment should take over at some point. They know that’s not how I get down. Besides, I don’t need to take anyone’s seconds. That’s Misty’s job, not mine.

“So you’re not after Nigel or Chance?” Nellie asks. Her jealousy is unbelievable. Even before Misty twisted Nellie’s mind all up, she was on that shit with me and Chance. I’ve had just about all I can take from the three of them.

“Nigel was your side conquest, not mine, or did you conveniently forget that you were jocking him even while Mickey was busy becoming his baby mama?” Mickey looks from me to Nellie, confused about who she’s hating on at the moment. What difference does it make now? In Misty’s twisted reality, Mickey and Nigel are engaged. But I guess even under a spell Mickey’s still on red alert when it comes to her main man.

I look into Mickey’s eyes and almost recognize the down-ass homegirl who used to roll tight with Nellie. I remember the first time Nellie introduced us. We could’ve easily become enemies, especially being from different sides of Compton, where colors determine our loyalty. But instead we became friends, and I want that back. I focus intently on my girl, like I did Mr. A. I can see her struggling against her anger, and I almost have her won over. But Misty steps in front of Mickey, blocking our view. She then turns around and faces Mickey, her eyes shimmering as she does so. Did anyone else just see that shit?

“Misty, what the hell are you doing to her?” I ask. Everyone seems like they’re in a daze and I’m the only one seeing this shit for what it really is. “Mickey, don’t look at her. She’s manipulating your thoughts.”

“Jayd, please. We all know you’re the real manipulator here. You think you’re so much better than all of us, but you’re not. And without your friends and your men, you have nothing.” Nellie says. She is on a roll today. I look at Misty, who’s gleaming, she’s so proud of her unwilling protege. She may have turned everyone else in this school into a zombie, but I’m not going out like that.

“Don’t be so sure about that, Misty. Nellie, this isn’t over by a long shot,” I say, ready to leave this ugly scene behind.

“She’s right,” Mickey says. “You made me think you had my back with Nigel when instead you went behind my back and had your hands all up in his head. What was that shit all about?”

“Mickey, I braid hair. That’s what I do. You know this. And for the record, I don’t need to steal anyone else’s man if I want to get a date.”

“You mean with the little Spanish boy?” Misty says. “Do you think anyone buys the little act you and your immigrant boy toy put on in class? So what, y’all can dance good together. His name’s not P. Diddy and you sure as hell ain’t no J.Lo, so get over it. We know you want our men and we’re not tolerating the shit no more.”

“Misty, please. I’ve already had your man, or don’t you remember jocking my leftovers at the beginning of the school year?” The crowd we’ve attracted can’t help but laugh at that fact. Everybody remembers Misty getting her ass kicked by Trecee, KJ’s ex side-trick, who promptly got kicked out of school after that fight.

“What about my man?” Mickey says. “Why else wouldn’t you help me get Nigel back unless you truly wanted him for yourself? If you’re so damned powerful, how is it that Misty could do what you couldn’t? She fixed me and Nigel and now we’re engaged.”

“Mickey, do you hear yourself talking? You’re not even making any sense.” Misty fixed them all right. I’m waiting for that other shoe to drop, and with any luck, it’ll fall right on Misty’s fuzzy head.

“Because she’s a hater,” Nellie says, adding her two cents. I know this trick is tripping, talking shit about me when it’s a well-known fact that she’s been after Nigel since he got here, damned if her best friend was the one dating him. And Mickey can’t say shit about this topic. This madness has got to stop now, and the only way to accomplish that goal is to overthrow the ringleader.

“Misty, do you really hate me this much?” I ask, gesturing around us. She and I alone know what we’re really talking about here. I wish I could battle her in the spirit world right now, because I’d kick her ass if I could. After getting into trouble because of Mickey recruiting me to forge her mother’s signature on her absent note, the last thing I need is another visit to the office. And without Ms. Toni to back me up, the administration would happily crucify my ass.

“No, it’s not that I hate you,” Misty says, stepping up to me like she knows I won’t slap the spit out of her mouth. “I just can’t stand you being here. Ever since you came to South Bay it’s been nothing but drama in my life.”

“I find that hard to believe, Misty. I have a feeling you’ve always had drama around you, no matter the target of your bull,” I say, opening my locker door. The bell for first period just rang and I can’t be late, now that Mr. Adewale is my teacher. I look around at my former friends and other haters, not believing I’m back in this situation. How can everyone turn on me at once? The vision of me being buried by stones comes back to my mind and the dreadful feeling along with it.

“Jayd, why don’t you just give it up? You’re not going to win this one. And there’s nothing you or your crazy-ass grandmother can do about it.” Oh no, Misty didn’t just call Mama crazy. To hell with keeping a cool head. Now I’m going to have to whip her ass like I should’ve done a long time ago. I grab Misty by her weave, forcing her to look inside of my locker. I read about one way to break a spell, where you get the person to look at their reflection and yours simultaneously. The magnetic mirror on my locker door should do the trick.

“Jayd, let go of me. Have you lost your mind? Oh wait, that’s right. You have,” Misty says, causing Laura and her newest sidekick, Kai, to laugh at my expense for the last time. KJ and his crew walk up just in time to get in on the jokes too, even if KJ’s more scared of Misty now than he’s ever been of me, and for good reason.

“Not a chance, Misty. Not until you take those fake eyes out. Come on, Misty. I miss your pretty browns,” I say, antagonizing her to the max. She snatches her arm away from my grip and I reclaim it instantly. She’s not getting away from me so easily this time. I should’ve kicked her ass several times by now and today is her lucky day.

“They’re not fake. I bought them fair and square. And that makes them as real as I want them to be,” she says, making the crowd laugh. If they only knew how deep that statement was, they wouldn’t think her shit was so funny. KJ, like everyone else, probably thinks she’s actually wearing contacts, unaware of the permanent physical change she’s gained from Esmeralda.

“I bet you did. You need to ask for a refund. Those eyes don’t suit you well at all.” I continue to hold on to Misty, who looks a little less confident as I talk about her newfound sight. She can’t handle what Esmeralda’s giving to her, and she knows it. But her hate for me drives her on and it’s going to land her flat on her juicy ass if she doesn’t back down.

“Do you want to get into more trouble, Jayd?” I’ve always wanted to kick her ass, but was worried about the repercussions. Now’s my chance.

“This will be worth the trouble,” I say, snatching her by her extensions to everyone’s amazement. KJ backs up from the scene. He knows better than to get involved in a chick fight, as he would call it. And he also knows me, so he really should think twice about saving his little piece of tail, because we all know that’s all Misty is to him.

“Damn it, Jayd,” Misty says, grabbing my hand as I pull her around to face the mirror. The spirit books says I have to get her to look at her reflection and mine at the same time in order to break the initial hold she has on my luck. But turning me into a dream zombie has to be broken in my dream world, and to do this I must deal directly with Esmeralda, because this trick has no real power. It’s all in Esmeralda’s hands.

“What’s the matter? You can’t face yourself?” Misty refuses to look up at our reflection. I’ve got to get her to do it at the same time or the spell won’t be broken. Misty’s stronger than she looks, or I’m just getting weaker with every passing day that Misty’s got my power. But as Mama and my mom keep reminding me, even on a weak day I’m still stronger than Misty.

“Misty, are you going to just let her grab on you like that?” Laura asks, stepping behind me as I try to force Misty’s head up. There’s nothing Laura can do, but I wish the trick would try. I’ve got Misty overpowered, and unless one of her fake friends steps up to the plate, her ass is mine.

“Well, don’t just stand there. Help me,” Misty says, still trying to get my hands off of her cheap extensions. She needs to ask Esmeralda to help her get some money so she can keep up her hairstyle. Misty doesn’t even need hairpieces, but I guess it makes her feel better.

“They can’t help you, but I can. You know you’re way out of your league, Misty. Look at yourself.” Misty tries to keep her head down, but she can’t avoid my gaze forever, just like I couldn’t avoid hers in my dream at first. Before I can get her to look in the mirror inside of my locker, Mrs. Bennett turns the corner, coming to Misty’s rescue. Damn.

“Problem, ladies?” the evil teacher asks. Why is she even in the main hall this early? You’d think she’d be preparing for class like the rest of the teachers.

“No, we’re good. I was just helping her out,” I say, loosening my hold on Misty, but not letting go. We’re far from done.

“Your eyes are quite…interesting,” Mrs. Bennett says to Misty, her blue eyes shimmering more than usual.