Next Semester (2 page)

HOME

Of
the three holiday parties I attended while back home in Oakland for winter break, all three got shot up. A couple of my close friends had been hit, caught in the crossfire. In less than two months, I’d been to four funerals—all guys I’d grown up with. In fact, violence in The Town had gotten so bad, just going to the mall was a risky move. Growing up in Cali, I was used to being around ignorance and violence. But it seemed like it was worse now than it had ever been. It was to the point where I had to watch my back every time I stepped out of the house.

And the fact that I’d returned home from college didn’t help. It only increased the size of the bull’s-eye on my chest. In my hood, there is more of a celebration for a guy being released from prison than for one who’d returned home from college. As irrational as it sounds, that’s just the way
it is. The fact of the matter is, misery loves company. Other than my best friend, Todd, who got a full ride to Crampton on a football scholarship, none of my friends left home for college. Most of them didn’t go at all.

Over winter break, I noticed a lot of the guys I hung around starting to hate on the fact that I’d left for college in an underhanded way. Snide remarks like “You think you’re better than us now that you went to college?” and “This nigga been in college for one semester and swears he knows everything now” were becoming more frequent by the day. Guys who were supposed to be my friends were turning on me, all because I’d decided to do more with my life than they had. When mixed with envy, the crab-in-a-barrel mentality gave way to genocide in the hood. Home wasn’t safe anymore.

That morning I was headed back to school, when I threw my last bag in the trunk of the car, I was determined to study hard and do whatever it took to get off academic probation and stay in school, so I could one day remove myself from harm’s way for good. But when I saw my younger sister, Robyn, take the driver’s seat, I figured my luck had finally run out. She’d just gotten her license and wanted to practice. I couldn’t quite fathom why my mom decided to let her at six in the morning, while it was still dark out. But after Robyn accidentally flicked on the windshield wipers, hazard lights and the wrong blinker before we made it to the highway, I knew she needed all the practice she could get. I still couldn’t understand why her in-flight training had to come while driving me to the airport.
At least let one person in this family graduate from college,
I thought, as we risked life and limb cruising down I-580 en route to the airport. I could tell my mom was a bit nervous, her head on the constant swivel, double-checking Robyn’s blind spots each time before she merged lanes. But not even
Robyn’s no-driving-skills-having-self could stop my mom from going through with her State of the Union address as we neared the terminal.

“Are you sure you got everything?” she asked.

“If I didn’t, it’s too late to turn around now,” I said from the backseat, with a hint of sarcasm.

“Hey! I’m just checking to make sure you haven’t left anything behind. You know the weather has changed since the last time you were down there in Atlanta. It’s probably going to be chilly until March. I hope you packed warm. You know you don’t have a doctor down there, and I can’t afford to fly you back home if you get sick.”

“I did.”

“Good. Now let me see…what am I forgetting? Hmmm. Do you have your award letter? Because you left that on the coffee table last semester.”

“Yeah, I got it,” I said, running my hand through my pocket to double-check.

Although I had all but severed my relationship with my high school girlfriend, Keisha, leaving without hearing her say goodbye didn’t sit well with me. She was my first love. She knew I was leaving and hadn’t even bothered to send me a text message to bid me farewell or wish me good luck. Although I’d never admit it, my mom knew not hearing from Keisha bothered me. My mom knew me like the back of her hand.

“Look, J.D., I know you probably don’t want to talk about it, but I know you have strong feelings for Keisha,” she said.

“I ain’t even thinking about that girl,” I said, lying.

“Come on now,” my mom said. “I was born at night. Not
last
night! I know that’s not the truth. Y’all dated all through high school. But the fact of the matter is, both of you are grown-up now and, quite possibly, growing apart.”

“Mom, I’m telling you, it’s not like that with me and Keisha anymore.”

“All I’m saying is—” my mom said, butting in “—and this goes for you, too, Robyn, so listen up. Don’t take your eyes off the road! But listen up. Every person who was a part of your past, isn’t going to be a part of your future. And that’s as plain as I can put it.”

At thirty-eight, my mom was good-looking, single and still young enough to understand what I was going through when it came to relationships. She never shied away from sharing her opinion, no matter whether I wanted to hear it or not.

“I hear you,” I said. “That’s exactly why I’m not coming back to Oakland ever again,” I said.

“Not coming back?” my sister asked fearfully, turning her head to look at me in the backseat.

All the while our car drifted slowly into the next lane, causing the white guy in the minivan next to us to swerve abruptly, honk his horn and flip us the bird.

“Keep your eyes on the road!” my mom and I shouted in unison.

“Sorry,” Robyn said, placing her hands back at ten and two o’clock on the steering wheel, regaining control. “What do you mean not coming back
ever?
”

“I don’t know about ever,” I said. “But you know how crazy it is out here. People getting shot and killed left and right. Plus, now that I’m in school, I’ve been noticing a lot of envy coming from the homies. Everybody’s hating on me, just ’cause I’m going to college. Other than Todd, I think I’ma just cut all them niggas off for good. Every last one of ’em. Keisha included. Katrina, too! I’m cutting off everybody this semester. Starting off with a clean slate.”

“Well, J.D., you know I’ve never told you how to pick your friends,” my mom said. “And I know how jealous friends who didn’t go off to college can be. Some of my girls did me
the same way back in the day. All I can say is, I know for a fact that you have some good friends. At least a couple.”

“
Maybe
a couple,” I said.

“Everybody’s not going to go off to college like you,” she continued. “But that doesn’t make them any less of a friend. As for Keisha and Katrina, you’re on your own there. I don’t know what you’re looking for in a woman, but until you find it, my advice is don’t settle for less. Just be careful
who
you decide to
cut off.
People are resources, and you just never know when you will need somebody to come through for you. Growing up, my grandmother used to always tell me, ‘You should never burn a bridge, unless you have a boat.’”

“Well, I got me a cruise ship,” I said, cockily. “So I’ma just do me.”

“A cruise ship, huh?” my mom asked, giggling. “Well, unless you wanna go down like the
Titanic,
you might wanna think about being more involved in extra-curricular activities on campus this year. I think it would be good for you to get your mind off of Keisha, Katrina and your so-called friends here. Do something constructive with all of the idle time you seem to have on your hands down there. Maybe you should try running for office in student government. I think you’d be good at that.”

“Yeah, right!” Robyn said, laughing. “The only reason you’re telling him to do that is because you wanted to run for office in college.”

“
Wanted
to?” my mom asked. “I
did
run!”

“What happened?” Robyn asked.

“I would have won, but…”

My mom is good for a barrage of run-on sentences. But stopping in midsentence was definitely not her forté.

“But what?” Robyn asked.

“Never mind that. I just think that it would be good for J.D. to take on some extra responsibility.”

“I wanna know why you didn’t win,” Robyn said.

“Well, if you must know, when I got pregnant with J.D., it was kind of a big deal. Unlike today, it wasn’t a very popular thing back then for a teenage girl to get pregnant without being married. At any rate, I was running for student body president, and the only thing standing in between me and winning was this snooty little thang named Jocelyn Paige. I’ll never forget her.”

“What did she do?” my sister asked.

“Well, see, your momma was fine back in the day. Fine and popular. Everybody loved me. Anyway, I had so many people on campus saying they were going to vote for me, the election was going to be a landslide. So Jocelyn did the only thing she knew to do.”

“What?” Robyn asked.

“Became a player hater. That girl started spreading rumors about me being pregnant and telling everybody I didn’t know who the daddy was. Which was a lie! I’d been with J.D.’s father for years. Kids can be so cruel. At any rate, the rumors got so bad and I was so embarrassed, I just quit. It’s one of the few things in my life I regret. Looking back, I would have rather competed and lost than lived life not knowing if I would have won. That’s why whenever you commit to doing anything, whether it’s trying out for the varsity cheerleading team, or trying to make good grades in school or whatever, my only advice is that you give it your all. That way, you can be content no matter if you win or lose.”

“That was my first time ever hearing that story, Mom,” Robyn said. “Shoot, listening to you just now, makes me want to run for student government.”

“Not me!” I said emphatically. “I couldn’t ever see myself running for nobody’s student body nothin’. Y’all can keep all of that campaigning, speech writing and public
speaking crap. I didn’t even know you were into that though, Mom. How come you never told us?”

“You never asked,” she said. “The moral of the whole story is, you should never let another person or group of people dictate how far you go in life. And if you start something, never ever quit.”

“Which terminal?” Robyn asked.

“I’m flying Delta,” I said.

“Oh, and J.D.,” my mom continued. “Just so you know. Financially, times are really tough for me right now. Until I find a full-time gig, I won’t be able to help you out and send you money as often as I did last semester. I’m gonna help you when I can, but I’m just letting you know.”

“I understand, Mom,” I said.

“All right, well I guess that’s about it then,” my mom said, opening her door.

“You’d better get going. You don’t have long to get to your gate.”

My sister followed her lead. Both of them met me at the trunk, but neither offered a hand to lift my heavy suitcase.

“Love you, Mom,” I said, giving her a big bear hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“I am so proud of you,” she whispered in my ear. “Keep making your momma proud!”

I couldn’t leave Robyn without reinforcing some words of wisdom I’d shared with her a couple weeks ago.

“And you…You better remember what I told you,” I said.

“About what?”

“Just ’cause you got your driver’s license, that don’t mean you need to be out here like the rest of these hot mommas. I heard about that boy you’re talking to on the basketball team. Uh-huh. Didn’t think I knew about that, did you? Don’t get homeboy beat up. I’d hate to have see his future go down the drain.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she said. “A-n-y-w-a-y-s! Don’t you have a plane to catch?”

“Not before you recite the rules I gave you,” I said.

“Never go over a guy’s house to watch a movie.”

“Exactly! That’s what theaters are for. Keep going.”

“Don’t let a guy talk me into giving him a massage and always say no if he asks to give me one.”

“Precisely! Oldest trick in the book. It always starts out with an innocent massage. Then, before you know it, your bra is unstrapped and…Anyway. You’re doing good. Keep going.”

“Never go over a guy’s house after 11:00 p.m.”

“Because…”

“’Cause ain’t nothin’ open that late but fast food restaurants, gas stations and legs.”

“That’s right,” I said, nodding my head, with a slight smirk. “Keep ’em coming.”

“Don’t drink and drive or ride in a car with anyone who has been drinking.”

“I lost one of my good friends in college just last semester behind that. Carry on.”

“Uhhhm. Uhh. Dang, J.D., it’s way too early in the morning for this!”

“C’mon, now! I got a plane to catch.”

“Shoot,” she said, snapping her fingers repeatedly, her eyes rolled up like she was in deep thought. “I don’t know. Ummm. Oh, yeah. Don’t drink or smoke weed. Okay, that’s it. ’Bye.”

“But if you do slip up and have a drink…”

“If I do, never leave my cup unsupervised.”

“That’s my little sister,” I said, reaching out to give her a hug. “I love you.”

“Love you, too,” she said, hugging me tight.

With that, I waved at my mom, turned up my iPod, and walked into the airport. I was actually more excited about
leaving to go back to school than I thought. I was still nervous about how people at my school would react to me and what they’d think about me after all the rumors they’d heard. I didn’t quite know how the hell I’d manage to pull off a 2.5 GPA without Kat’s help tutoring me. If it hadn’t been for her, I’m almost certain, my grades wouldn’t have been anywhere near good enough to even think about going back to the University of Atlanta. But choosing between ducking strays in Oakland or going off to college to pursue a better life for myself was a no-brainer. I had to leave. And there was no reason to look back. Too much to look forward to.

BACK ON THE YARD

I
was excited when my Uncle Leroy finally showed up at the airport to pick me up. I’d been waiting outside for over twenty minutes, and it was cold as hell. The short-sleeved shirt I was wearing didn’t help. As hot as it was first semester, I had no reason to believe it ever got cold in the South. My mom was right.

“What took you so long, unc?” I asked as he hit me with a bear hug—all three hundred-plus pounds of him. “You must’ve been taking your sweet time, like Morgan Freeman in
Driving Miss Daisy.”

“You know these fools out here in Atlanta can’t drive,” he said. “Traffic was crazy! Besides, I know you ain’t talking, Larenz
Fake.
”

“Everybody always got the Larenz Tate jokes,” I said.
“I see you didn’t take any prisoners when it came to scraping your plate this holiday season.”

“Well, you know how your auntie does it. Let’s just say turkey and dressing didn’t miss me!”

“Apparently neither did chitterlings, collard greens, potato salad, fried chicken, candied yams…”

“All right now, youngster,” he said, hoisting my over-stuffed luggage into his trunk. “Don’t let your mouth write a check that your ass can’t cash. I don’t usually box featherweights. Don’t be the exception.”

“You know I’m just kidding, unc,” I said with a smile.

“That’s what I thought,” he said, chuckling. “How were your holidays?”

“Pretty straight, I guess,” I said. “I didn’t do much. Ate good. Hit up a few clubs for Christmas and New Year’s Eve. They got shot up. You know, the regular.”

“Sounds like Oakland to me,” he said. “How’s your girlfriend?”

“I don’t have one of those.”

“What? Since when? You and that girl been dating since…”

“We just kinda decided to go our separate ways,” I said, interjecting.

“Oh, yeah?” he inquired. “Well, it’s not like you’re too old to explore your options. I don’t think a young man should be locked down like that in college anyway. You’ve got the rest of your life for that. Shoot! All them honeys I seen last time I dropped you off on campus…there’s no way I’d settle down. Not me! I’d be more single than a dollar bill!”

“I feel you on that,” I said. “I mean, these girls down here are cool, but I don’t know if I could take any of them seriously. Especially not after what happened to me last semester.”

“Yeah, you dodged a real bullet there. You definitely gotta be safe.”

To my knowledge, my Uncle Leroy had no idea about
what happened between Katrina and I last semester. I hadn’t told anyone remotely affiliated with anybody in his circle, or in my family for that matter. The only person I’d told other than Todd was Robyn. And the only reason she found out was because her nosy butt picked up the other phone in the house when I was on the phone with the doctor. Even after ear-hustling, she still had to pry the entire story out of me. But I made her promise not to tell anyone.

“What do you mean, I dodged a bullet? Did you hear something?”

“Man, you know you can’t hide nothing like that from family. If you get sick, who else is gonna be there to take care of your sorry behind? Of course, I heard.”

“From who?”

“Well, your auntie told me. And I suppose she heard from your momma. And I don’t know who she heard from.”

Robyn can’t hold water,
I thought.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’m not gonna preach to you. All I’ve got to say is, never jump in the middle of an ocean without a life jacket. You catch my drift?”

“Yeah,” I said, slumping down into my seat, shaking my head back and forth in disbelief. “I got you.”

“You got tested and everything, right?”

“As soon as I got back to Cali,” I said. “Got my results back. I’m straight. Thank God.”

“Say that then, nephew,” he said, having a quick look. “Well, at least you know you’re straight as far as that is concerned. And hey, don’t feel bad about what happened. I mean, we’ve all slipped up before. Hell, between me and you, that’s how a couple of your cousins got here. I was satisfied with one kid. Anyway, that’s a whole ’nother story. The point I’m trying to make is, when things like that
happen, you just take it as a lesson learned and try not make the same mistake again.”

“Believe me, that is one you don’t have to worry about me repeating,” I said.

“I know that’s right,” he said, turning up his Earth, Wind & Fire album.

I don’t know if it was the song “September” blaring from the speakers, the huge So So Def billboard off the side of the highway or the fact that a guy actually raised his hand in the rearview mirror to thank my uncle for letting him over in traffic, but something about cruising up I-85 North, headed to campus, just felt right. I felt like I was at home. A second home. For the first time in a long time, I was at peace. I couldn’t help but smile as we pulled off the exit and I saw the sign that read Atlanta University Center. My eyes lit up when we drove by the Elman—the all-girl college right around the corner from mine—and I saw their parking lot was jam packed with ladies being dropped off by their parents. When we pulled into the parking lot outside my dorm, there were so many cars in the small lot, we had to park illegally, beside the garbage can.

“Marshall Hall,” I said aloud to myself, as I got out of the car and stretched, looking around at everybody’s parents helping them take their things in their rooms.

I thought about my mom. I missed her already. Apparently, my uncle missed the college life a little more than he led on to. He was leaning up against his door, eating some funions, shaking his head side to side slowly as a girl in skin-tight jeans bent over to tie her shoe.

“Man, it feels good to be back on the yard again,” I said, grinning wide.

“You ain’t lying,” my uncle said, devouring a handful of chips as he stared recklessly.

“You mind popping the trunk though, unc?” I asked.

“Oh, okay,” he said, reaching through the window to press the button, without ever taking his eyes off of the sexy, chocolate-complexioned girl. “I wonder if she needs some help.”

“Not from you, with your breath smelling like sauerkraut,” I said with a chuckle.

As I struggled to loosen my suitcase from all of the junk my uncle had piled up in his trunk, I heard a very familiar voice behind me.

“Well look what the wind blew in,” someone said. “This stud swear he’s flickin’!”

With that all that Midwest slang, I knew who it was before I even turned around.

“My guy!” I said, giving Fresh a handshake, then a hug. “Fresh!”

“In the flesh!” he said.

“What’s up with you, blood?”

“Tryna spit my game at all of the top notches on campus before you get a chance. I thought I had more time.”

“Time’s up, playboy,” I said.

As always, Fresh was rockin’ the newest J’s, accompanied by the matching black-and-red Jordan jumpsuit, of course. Fresh and I were about the same height, but he had a little more weight on him than me. His complexion was one shade shy of pitch-black, but he had teeth as white as piano keys and waves for days. As important as a rifle is to a soldier, Fresh’s brush was never out of arm’s reach.

“I see you didn’t waste any time getting fly,” I said, popping his collar.

“Well you know they call me Fresh, so I try to give ’em a reason,” he said, calmly removing his brush from his back pocket and gently stroking his waves.

“Where’s Moms?” he asked.

“She couldn’t make it out here this time.”

“So who picked you up from the airport?”

“My Uncle Leroy. You met him when he dropped me off last semester, right?”

“Nah,” he said.

“Yo, unc! Lemme introduce you to my boy,” I said, wrapping my arm around Fresh’s neck, and pulling him around the car. “This is my boy Lamont, from Chicago. We all call him Fresh.”

“Well, how are ya,
Fresh?
” he asked, chuckling as he extended his hand to dap Fresh up. “I’m J.D.’s uncle, Leroy. They call me Uncle Leroy. If you don’t mind me asking, how did you get a nickname like Fresh?”

“It’s kind of a long story. But basically because of the way I dress. I guess I’ve always been fly.”

“Well,” my uncle said, cracking up, “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. He says he’s always been fly. He’s incredible! So what part of Chicago are ya from?”

“West side.”

“I’m familiar with Chi-Town. I’ve got some family there. Whereabout on the west side?”

“K-Town.”

“Oh, well that explains plenty. That neighborhood is full of pimps and hustlers. Yeah, I know that area well. It can be pretty rough.”

“Certain parts,” Fresh said.

“Well, you two are definitely cut from the same cloth as far as your upbringing is concerned. As I’m sure J.D. has told you, Oakland is no walk in the park. I’m glad both of you made it out and are doing something positive with your lives. I wish more of our young men would do the same.”

I don’t know whether or not my uncle continued to speak after that sentence. It didn’t matter. Nothing could have been more important than the girl walking through the parking lot. She was pecan-complexioned, with dimples, a short, Halle Berry-like hairstyle and the body of a goddess.
Her sleek, hourglass figure seemed to glide across the asphalt in her black patent leather heels. Her ass was so big, it looked out of place on her tiny waste, leaving the belt loops on her True Religion denims bunched in the back.

“Who the hell is that?” I asked Fresh, grabbing him by the arm, my eyes fixated on her body.

“I don’t know. Wish I did, though. She must go to Elman, because I damn sure ain’t see her around here last semester.”

“Well, if she goes to Elman, why is she going down the steps by our dorm?”

“That’s a hell of a question,” Fresh said. “I would chase her down but I’ve got my hands full already. You know I’m single now, so I got chicks lined up for days! Rashida from Detroit. Tiffany from Houston. Sandra from L.A. Man, the list goes on, fam.”

“Y’all young boys are something else,” my uncle said, his eyes glued to the same treasure as ours. “I need to get outta here before I get into trouble. You got all of your things from the trunk?”

“I’ma see what ol’ baby is talkin’ about,” I said, speed-walking in her direction.

“Get her!” Fresh growled.

There were a lot of pretty girls going in and out of the dorm, but none close to as fine as the one I was chasing. The closer I got, the faster my heart pounded. Normally, I may have just waited until the next time we crossed paths to try to get at her. I’ve never liked the idea of chasing a girl down. Ladies generally assume those kind of guys are too thirsty. But with Uncle Leroy and Fresh watching, I had to at least give it a shot.

“Excuse me,” I said, reaching out and caressing her elbow.

“You’re excused,” she said, pulling her arm away, and looking back with an expression of disgust, as if I was aggravating her.

“You don’t have to be that way, sweetheart,” I said, still trailing her. “I was just trying to find out your name.”

“My name is Leslie,” she said without looking back, still walking a few paces ahead of me.

“Well, my name is James,” I said, careful not to drop my nickname on her right away, in case she’d heard any rumors. “What school do you go to?”

“I thought you just wanted to know my name,” she said, stopping abruptly, then finally turning toward me.

Her beauty was on a whole ’nother level. Other than lip gloss, it didn’t seem like she was wearing any makeup at all. And still, she looked like she could be walking the red carpet at the Grammys. My eyes scanned for imperfection and found none. That was, until she moved her head slightly to the left. That’s when I noticed a fresh scar just below her bottom lip. Upon further examination, I saw that her mouth was a little puffy on that side, too. I tried not to stare.

“Actually, I just wanted you to stop so I could properly introduce myself,” I said. “So, thanks. You look great from the back, but you are so much more beautiful from the front. So now that I seem to have your attention, what school do you go to?”

“What school do
you
go to?” she asked.

“University of Atlanta.”

“I knew it. Gotta go,” she said, turning and walking away.

“What’s that about?” I asked, flat-footed.

“I’m done with U of A guys,” she said. “I only date Lighthouse men now.”

“Who said anything about dating?”

“Maybe I’ll see you around,
James,
” she said, as she turned to wave goodbye. “It was nice meeting you.”

At least she remembered my name,
I thought to myself, as I watched her sashay out of my life. After her little comment about exclusively dating Lighthouse men, it
would be fair to assume that she definitely went to Elman. Since Lighthouse was the all-male school right across the street from Elman, and both were considered black Ivy League institutions, they tended to prefer dating each other over us. I don’t think my Uncle Leroy or Fresh cared to hear that whole explanation. To them, it would sound more like a poor excuse of why I didn’t get her digits. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and started fooling around with it, to make it look like I’d gotten Leslie’s number and spare myself the embarrassment. As I approached the parking lot, I didn’t see my uncle, but Fresh was standing there with a big grin on his face, both hands hoisted in the air like a referee signaling a made field goal. I responded with a hand gesture that signified me slitting my throat. His hands dropped immediately and confusion riddled his face.

“No?” he asked.

“Not this time,” I said.

“Damn!” he said. “I just knew you pulled her when I seen you walking with your phone out. What was she on?”

“She was talking ’bout how she only dates Lighthouse dudes.”

“Who said anything about dating?”

“That’s what I said!”

“Damn,” he said. “She was fine! You’ll probably see her again.”

“Yeah. That’s what she said.”

“Next time, tell her you transferred to Lighthouse,” he said, laughing. “Or better yet, lie, and tell her you’re Greek.”

“
Greek?
You mean, like fraternity Greek? Why would I tell her that?”