Indigo Summer (7 page)

Indigo

Butterflies
floated around in my stomach, each flying in different directions as I sat on the front porch. Dressed in a soft pink, sleeveless dress trimmed in lace, my hair pulled into a mass on my head, eyeliner, lipstick and mascara on my face, I waited for my date. He was already thirty minutes late, and I was becoming nervous. My parents kept snapping pictures and staring at me with these goofy smiles on their faces. At one point, Mama even had tears in her eyes.

“It's just a Homecoming Dance,” I told them. “It's not that serious.”

“It is serious. It's your first real date, Indi,” Mama said, wiping tears from her eyes.

My father wouldn't let me date until I was fifteen, so I guess this was a milestone moment in my life. The first time a boy ever came to my house and picked me up and my parents were more excited than I was.

I heard Marcus's front door creak and watched as he stepped out of his house and onto his porch. His tie undone, he rushed to his Jeep. He looked my way and waved. I waved back.

“What's up?” he yelled, looking extra handsome in a black tuxedo, lavender cummerbund and shiny black shoes. I wondered who he was taking to the dance, and almost asked, but didn't want him to think I was prying, or that I cared.

“Nothing,” I said to him, and managed a smile. His smile was beautiful and calming and warm, even caused my butterflies to settle.

“You waiting on Quincy?”

“Yep.”

“He's a little late, ain't he?” he asked, and looked at his watch.

“He's on his way,” I shot back, not wanting him to know that I had already assessed the situation and wasn't pleased at all.

“You look very pretty, Indi. I hope Quincy makes it here soon,” he said and rushed to his Jeep. Jumped in and pulled off down the block.

“Me, too,” I whispered to myself.

As a navy blue Nissan Maxima slowed in front of the house, my butterflies started flying rapidly again. My stomach churned as Quincy stepped out of the driver's seat wearing a black tuxedo with a pink cummerbund that matched my dress, no tie and pink-and-white Nikes. His hair was trimmed perfectly, and he carried a white corsage in a plastic container that he had probably picked up at Publix grocery store on the way over.

“Hi, Indi. Sorry I'm late,” he said as he climbed onto our porch.

“Hi, Quincy,” I said, and suddenly Daddy appeared behind me.

“Hello, sir,” Quincy said, grabbing my father's hand in a strong handshake. I was relieved to know that he at least had manners.

That was important because I knew that Daddy would judge him based on whether or not he seemed to have home training. That would determine whether or not he could come back again. So I was relieved.

“How are you, son?” Daddy said. “Running a little late aren't you?”

“Yes, sir, and I'm sorry. I had an errand to run for my mother.”

Just then, Mama rushed out onto the porch carrying one of her old shawls. One like the old ladies wore at our church.

“Here, Indi. Take this. You might get cold later and you can throw this around your arms.”

I took it, but had no intentions of wearing it tonight or any other night. It was too old fashioned for my taste, but I didn't want to hurt her feelings.

“Hello, young man,” Mama said and shook Quincy's hand.

“How you doing, Mrs. Summer?” Quincy asked. “It's very nice to meet you.”

“What time can we expect her home?” Daddy asked.

“What time would you like her home?” Quincy asked.

“No later than twelve-thirty,” Daddy said.

“Twelve-thirty, Daddy? We won't even have time to get anything to eat,” I protested. “One-thirty?”

“One o'clock, Indi. And that's final.”

“I'll have her home by one, sir.” Quincy stepped in, and then took the corsage out of its package. Pinned it on me, and I was embarrassed as his hand accidentally swept across my breast. He was obviously experienced at this stuff; pinning corsages on girls, because he did it perfectly. How many times had he taken somebody to a formal dance?

“Y'all look so nice. Stand over there so I can take a picture,” Mama said, digital camera in hand.

“They wearing sneakers to formal dances now?” Daddy got a better view of Quincy's shoes.

“It's the style, Daddy.” Quincy and I both laughed.

“Times sure have changed since I was in high school.”

“Yes, they have,” I said, blinded by the flash from the camera. “Can we go now?”

“Y'all have a good time.” Mama kissed my cheek. “I'll make sure your nana gets copies of these pictures. She'll be so excited. Wouldn't you like to call her before you leave, just to say hello?”

“Mama, we're already running late.” Quincy and I started down the stairs. “I'll call her later.”

“You have your cell phone, Indi?” Mama asked.

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Call us if you need us, baby,” she said.

“Okay.”

Quincy opened the passenger door of his mama's car, and I hopped inside. Couldn't wait to get away from those parents of mine; the ones who still treated me like a five-year-old. At some point they would have to let go. As soon as we got to the end of my street, Quincy pumped up a single by Dem Franchize Boyz, “Lean Wit It, Rock Wit It,” the unedited version. That nice, mannerable young man who had just stepped onto my parent's porch for the first time had disappeared by the time we reached the corner.

“You look fine, girl,” he said.

“Thanks. So do you.” I was tense. Clasped my hands together with nervous energy.

“You can loosen up. We're away from your parents. It's just you and me now. So just relax and kick back.”

“Okay,” I said, but the butterflies wouldn't keep still, as he did about eighty miles an hour in a residential area.

 

The school's cafeteria had been transformed into a ballroom with streamers, colorful balloons everywhere, and fluorescent lights throughout the room. In one corner of the room, a DJ played booty-shaking music and in the opposite corner, Coach Robinson served cake and punch to a long line of students. I immediately lost Quincy to his boys from the football team as they huddled together in the middle of the floor, flexing and showing off their tuxedos. I was left against the wall by myself, looking around to see who all was there. A few people were on the dance floor getting their grooves on. As I scanned the room checking out all the different dresses I prayed that no one had mine on. Someone covered my eyes from behind.

“It's about time you got here.” Tameka smiled, her strapless red dress covering every inch of her round hips. Her body was fully developed like a grown woman's—like her mother, Mel's. She had it all in the right places, unlike me. Mine was divided sparingly—a little bit of hips here, a little bit of booty, some nice muscular legs—thanks to the squats that Miss Martin demanded from the dance team—but not much in the breast department at all. Some girls received it a lot slower than others.

“That dress is off da hook, girl!” I said. “It looks so much better than it did when you tried it on at Macy's.”

Tameka modeled her dress in front of me, twisting and turning as if she was on the runway. “You look really cute yourself.”

“Thank you.”

As the DJ played “Shoulder Lean,” Tameka pulled my arm. “Come on, let's go get our men so we can dance.”

Tameka broke up their little party, grabbed Jeff by the arm and I grabbed Quincy. We led them to the dance floor. Quincy started doing a dance called the Shoulder Lean and I followed. Tameka and Jeff danced to our right. Across the room and to my left, I spotted Marcus dancing with Charmaine Jackson, his date for the evening. They were color coordinated. His eyes met mine, and he smiled. I smiled back. I wondered how the two of them ended up together. She definitely wasn't his type, and she wasn't even cute. Had she asked him, or had he asked her to the dance? What did I care? He was just my stupid next-door neighbor anyway.

Marcus

For
some reason, I couldn't keep my eyes off of Indigo. And she was definitely wearing that dress. She wasn't overdeveloped like some of the other girls in the place, but she had a little something that was worth looking at. She was perfectly built, in my opinion. And the moment I saw her walk in with Quincy Rawlins, my blood started to boil. Jealousy rushed through my veins. He didn't deserve a girl like that. He was one of the biggest dogs at our school, and it was always the dogs that got first dibs on the girls. The good girls. Not girls like my date, Charmaine Jackson, who hadn't stopped talking since the moment I picked her up at her run-down apartment complex.

Her brothers had stood outside in their sagging pants and bandanas wrapped around their heads, throwing up gang signs as I pulled into the parking lot. Her mother had answered the door wearing a short, sheer nightgown and asked me if I could run to the store and pick her up a package of cigarettes.

“A package of Kool Milds, baby,” she'd said. “And pick me up one of them disposable cameras so I can take you and Charmaine's picture.”

“Ma'am, I'm not old enough to buy cigarettes,” I told her. “I'm only sixteen.”

“Ma'am? Don't be calling me no ma'am! You can just call me Shirley,” she said. “And you can just tell James down at the CVS that the cigarettes is for me. He'll sell 'em to you.”

She pulled a wad of cash out of her purse and handed me a ten-dollar bill.

“Miss Jackson, I really don't feel comfortable buying cigarettes,” I told her.

“Oh, never mind, boy. I'll get one of these no-good sons of mine to run to the store. Y'all go on to the dance, and have a good time.”

I was relieved to finally jump in my Jeep and burn rubber out of the parking lot.

Indigo

I
stood on the wall nursing a cup of punch, as everyone was on the dance floor, sweaty from all the movement. On Quincy's way back from the restroom, he stopped and whispered something in Patrice Robinson's ear and she smiled at him. Before long the two of them were on the dance floor, his hands wrapped around her body and hers exploring his chest. I was fighting mad. How could he bring me to a dance and then dance with someone else? This time I wouldn't be so calm.

“Why you standing over here by yourself?” Marcus had found his way next to me, and I was actually happy to hear his voice in my ear.

“Waiting for Quincy to get done dancing with that tramp over there.”

“Who, Patrice?” he asked, as if he hadn't noticed. Everybody in the place noticed how they danced with each other.

“Yes, Patrice.”

“There's one of two things you can do about that.” He smiled and it was the first time I noticed how beautiful his smile was. And he smelled so good. “You can either go over there and tell him that you don't appreciate him dancing with her…”

“What's the other thing?”

“You can come out here and dance with me, let me show you some moves.”

“Where's your date?”

“Her girls came and whisked her off somewhere to go gossip.”

We both laughed.

“How did you end up with her anyway, Marcus? She's not even your type.”

“My type?” He smiled that smile again. “What's my type?”

“I don't know. But it's definitely not Charmaine Jackson. Rumor has it that she has given it up to everybody on the football team.”

“Really? I hadn't heard that one.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I needed a date, and I had run out of options. The person I wanted to invite was already taken.”

“And who was that?” I asked.

“Just some girl I know.”

“Do I know her?”

“I don't know. You might,” he said. “Can I get a dance or what? Or do you plan to just hold up the wall for the rest of the night?”

Without another word, he pulled me out onto the dance floor, and I didn't resist. Marcus drew me close, and I actually felt comfortable in his arms—sort of protected. I rested my head on his chest as we swayed to the sound of Jamie Foxx's “Play a Love Song.”

“How did a girl like you end up with a guy like Quincy?” He asked.

“What kind of question is that?”

“A simple one,” he said. “You're much too beautiful for him. He's a dog.”

“You don't even know him like that.”

“See that's where you're wrong. I have known Quincy a long time, Indi. Since we were in grade school together, we both have played football in leagues all over the city together. He ain't about jack.”

“You're jealous of him.”

“Jealous?” he asked.

“Yes.” I smiled. “Just because your date didn't work out, now you trying to spoil mine.”

“Right. I'm jealous of Quincy Rawlins.” He laughed. “I'll just let you find out for yourself.”

“Cool. You do that.”

“But I'll be here when you're ready to talk,” he said. “Because I think you're special, Indigo Summer. I think you're very special.”

“I admit. We got off to a bad start, Marcus. Maybe we should try and be friends. I think that's what this is all about.”

“That's not what this is about, but I would be happy to be your friend, Indigo,” he said. “Does that mean we can hang out a little bit?”

“Hang out like where?”

“Like at the mall, or a football game…go to a movie?”

“Maybe the mall or a football game or something.” I smiled. “But I don't know about a movie. I do have a boyfriend, you know.”

“That's right. How could I forget that?” he asked.

There was suddenly silence between us for a moment, a very uncomfortable silence. I needed to say something that would lighten the mood. “Where did Mr. Davis get that suit?”

Marcus laughed. “Probably Goodwill.”

We began to people-watch and laugh about some of the stuff they were wearing. We laughed at the light blue suit Mr. Davis wore; it looked as if he'd owned it back in the sixties. We cracked on Miss Goodman's two-toned shoes that didn't match anything she had on. I actually enjoyed the few moments I spent with Marcus. He had a sense of humor and he was fun to talk to. I was sorry that I hadn't given him the time of day before. As Quincy's eyes met mine, I gave him a little wave.

“He's looking over here.” I smiled as the look of envy flashed across Quincy's face when he spotted me dancing with Marcus. “Hug me closer.”

Marcus did as I asked until the song finally ended.

 

“You ready to go, Indi?” Quincy asked, giving Marcus an evil eye as he approached.

“Whenever you are.”

“If we're going to grab something to eat, we better get going. You know what your father said,” he said. “I wanna make sure I get you home on time.”

He grabbed my elbow and we headed toward the door.

“I'll catch you later, Indi,” Marcus said.

“Okay,” I said, and followed Quincy to his mama's Maxima.

 

As we approached the edge of the parking lot at school, Quincy turned out onto the street and then accelerated. We drove a few miles and to a nearby park. Quincy drove into the park, the gravel making a crushing noise under our tires. Although the sign read: NO ADMITTANCE AFTER HOURS, Quincy continued down the stretch of the path until we reached a parking area. He maneuvered the car into one of the spots.

“What are we doing here?”

“Got something I wanna show you.”

“Thought we were getting something to eat?”

“I'm not that hungry. Are you?” He asked, and before I could answer, said, “Matter of fact, I'm not hungry at all.”

He put a CD in, and adjusted the volume on the stereo.

 

The park was dark and almost eerie. The only light shining was that from the moon and the dashboard in Quincy's mama's car. I could barely see the whites of his eyes as he reclined in his seat and began caressing my face with his fingertips. When he leaned over and kissed me, I relaxed and gave in to his kiss. I loved the softness of his lips and his kisses usually tasted minty and fresh.

“Are you okay?” he whispered.

“Yes,” I whispered back. Couldn't understand why we were both whispering. It wasn't like anyone else was around.

As his tongue swirled to the roof of my mouth, his hand began to probe, making its way to my knee and then on up to my thigh. My heart started pounding so loudly, I wondered if he could hear it. I liked kissing, but wasn't sure I was ready for much more than that. I thought about Mel and how she said not to let anybody in my pocketbook before I was ready. I took that to heart.

“Just relax, baby,” Quincy said. “I won't hurt you.”

“I'm not ready,” I said.

“Yes, you are. You just need to relax, Indi.”

Who was he to tell me what I was ready for? Only I could decide that…and had.

“I'm not ready,” I said again, pulling his hand away and straightening my dress.

We hadn't even been dating that long. We hadn't even talked about sex. Hadn't talked about the fact that I was still virgin and wanted my first time to be special. With someone that I cared about. We hadn't talked about the consequences of sex, like HIV and other sexually transmitted diseases, or about pregnancy. I didn't even know if he planned on using protection or if he had any.

Quincy rested his head on the back of the leather driver's seat and stared straight ahead. He was frustrated. “When will you be ready?” he asked.

“I can't say for sure,” I told him, and my heart wouldn't stop beating at the rapid pace it was pulsating. My hands shook as I snapped my seat belt on. “Can you just take me home?”

“Yep, I'll take you home,” he said and snapped his seat belt on, too. Restarted the engine.

He was mad. I could tell.

But I didn't care. I knew what made me comfortable and what didn't, and this definitely did not.

 

When he pulled up in front of my house, I placed my hand on the door handle.

“Will you call me later?” I asked softly.

“Yeah, I'll call you later,” he said, never looking my way. His eyes remained straight ahead. I expected him to at least lean over and kiss me good-night, but he didn't.

I waited a few minutes, and then hopped out of the car. Made my way up my front steps and when I got to the door, I looked back at Quincy. He was watching me to make sure I got in, but pulled off the minute I stepped inside. My father was crashed out on the sofa in the family room. I tiptoed past him and made it to the stairwell. Just as my foot touched the bottom step, his voice rang out in the darkness.

“Did you have a good time?” he asked.

I crept back into the family room and stood in front of him.

“Hi, Daddy. I thought you were asleep.”

“All closed eyes aren't sleep, baby,” he said, and peeped at his watch. “You're home earlier than curfew. What's going on?”

“Nothing.”

“You okay?”

“I'm fine, Daddy.”

“You don't look fine. What's on your mind?” He sat straight up and adjusted his position on the sofa. “Anything you wanna talk about?”

“No, Daddy. Everything's fine, I'm just tired,” I said and rubbed my eyes. “Just want to go to bed.”

This was definitely not a subject for my father. He wasn't ready for a heavy conversation such as this. Quincy would have a hit out on him before morning if my father knew the details of my evening. Daddy wasn't taking this whole dating thing very well as it was. After all, I was his baby girl.

My father sighed, cocked his head to the side and peered at me with those inquisitive eyes of his. In his heart of hearts he knew that something wasn't quite right, but he wasn't sure what. Fathers just knew.

“Well, I guess you should go on to bed then, baby. Got to get up for church in the morning,” he said. “I'm turning in, too.”

Daddy hit the power on the television set, followed me up the stairs, dressed in his light blue cotton pajamas and brown leather slippers that Nana Summer had given him for Christmas two years ago.

At the top of the stairs, I kissed his cheek and said, “Good night, Daddy.”

“Good night, baby. I'll see you in the morning.”

I rushed to my room and changed into my pajamas. Sat on the edge of the bed, thinking through the choices I'd made all night. Wondering if I'd made the right ones. Part of me wanted to cry as I caught a reflection of my face in the mirror. My makeup had begun to smear. I went into my bathroom, grabbed a washcloth and wet it. Cleaned the makeup from my face, and brushed my teeth.

Just as I was about to call it a night, I heard a light tap on my bedroom window; sounded like a small rock hitting it. And then another tap. When I opened my blinds, Marcus stood with his window wide opened and was about to throw another Skittle at my window.

“What are you doing?” I asked, as I pulled my window opened. I was actually grateful to see him. His face was like a breath of fresh air.

“I saw you coming home just now. That punk didn't even walk you to the door,” he said, as his wifebeater hugged the muscles in his chest. “What took y'all so long? Where'd y'all go after the dance?”

“Nowhere special,” I said. “Where did you and Charmaine go after the dance?”

“I took her to McDonald's and then dropped her behind off at home.”

“Please tell me you didn't take her to Mickey D's.”

“Naw. I took her to Applebee's, and then took her home. Her mama was having a party and asked me if I wanted to come in and play some dominoes. I told her I would pass.” We both cracked up.

“What did she order at Applebee's?”

“A Bourbon Street steak with a loaded baked potato. And the heifer had the nerve to order an appetizer, too. I told her that what she needed to order was a salad with light dressing on the side.”

“And she cussed you out, right?”

“No doubt.” He laughed. “Ate her steak, appetizer and part of my meal, too.”

“That's what you get,” I said.

“That's what I get for what?”

“For taking a girl like Charmaine to the Homecoming Dance.”

“Well, the girl that I wanted to take already had a date.”

“And who was that?” I asked, hands on my hips.