Sellout (15 page)

“It’s been rough, but I think I’m finally starting to fit in,” I said. Ms. Rose and Shaunda didn’t look convinced. Tilly even tightened up on my hair.

“Is that what you’ve been trying to do up there, fit in?” Tilly stopped halfway through a braid and pulled my head around to face her. She knew I was trying to fit in, anywhere and everywhere. “Is that what these braids are about? Because that ain’t the reason I brought you here, to be somebody else. You’re supposed to be up there learning about yourself.”

“No, Tilly, that’s not what I’m trying to do,” I told her. She kept mouthing something under her breath. I could see Shaunda looking over to hear what Tilly was saying. “Let’s talk about it later, alright, please?”

Tilly finished braiding but kept talking about what a shame it would be for me to have wasted my time here. I didn’t want to be any of those other girls; it was just easier to not stand out so much all the time. She just didn’t understand.

Ms. Rose and Tilly kept talking about how fitting in was the wrong way for me to go. Shaunda even chimed in a few times. What did she know? She was acting odd, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. I didn’t really want to pay too much attention. I was just glad Tilly didn’t leave my head halfway unbraided. The girls at Amber’s Place would get a kick out of that.

We sat to eat and the grandmothers still wanted to discuss my fate.

“She’ll learn one day,” Ms. Rose said, as if I wasn’t even in the room. Tilly had a tendency to do that, too. “Maybe not this time, but it will happen.”

“I know that’s right,” Tilly said, stuffing a loose piece of turkey in her mouth. “That’s what I prayed for.”

Praying about my social standing was going too far. God surely didn’t have the time.

“Tilly, please,” I begged, “can’t we talk about something else?”

“How about our volleyball match? NaTasha is pretty good,” Shaunda offered. This girl was never coming to dinner again. She might as well have given a play-by-play demonstration of how the girls almost killed me with a volleyball.

“Or, how about the beautiful weather we’re having?” I asked, looking at Shaunda again.

“Funny you should bring that up,” Tilly said, smirking. “I heard it was supposed to storm tonight.”

“That’s too bad. It was such a beautiful day,” Ms. Rose said.

It was too easy to distract two women who liked to talk a lot. It didn’t really matter the subject. They just liked to talk. A few times I found myself zoning out of their conversation. Thinking about Amir was more fun.

Shaunda wasn’t paying much attention to them, either. She might as well have not been there at all. Her grandmother probably forced her to come anyway. This girl sitting at Tilly’s table was almost a different person from the one I knew at Amber’s Place. I wanted to know what was going on, but without our grandmothers around to intervene.

“Shaunda, you want to sit out on the stoop for a while?” I asked, interrupting all flow of conversation going on next to us. Shaunda looked up and only grunted an answer that I
couldn’t hear. But we cleared our plates and started down the stairs.

“So, what’s up with you tonight?” I asked. “Why are you here?”

“What are you talking about? My grandmother said you wanted me to be here,” she said, looking at me like I had a third eye on my forehead.

“She did, did she?” I asked. I was going to kill Tilly. No way did I want Shaunda in my personal space, especially acting like she didn’t even know me. Just a few days ago, she was willing to tell me all I needed to know to survive. “Why are you acting so funny anyway?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, NaTasha,” she said, rolling her eyes and looking down the block. The sweet, helpful girl who’d shared a locker and all her dark secrets with me had clearly left the building.

“Did I do something to offend you, Shaunda?” I asked, sounding desperate and insecure. I didn’t care.

“No, you didn’t
do
anything,” she said. But her tone said the opposite.

“So, if I didn’t do anything, what then?” I asked, getting frustrated and a little nervous. “I thought we were friends.”

“I don’t have any friends, NaTasha,” she snapped. The muscles in her neck were strained and she looked close to tears. “I thought we were friends until you turned into one of them.”

“One of who?” I asked.

This girl might be the craziest one of them all. She couldn’t mean Quiana, Rochelle, or Monique, or she was dumb, too.
Since when was I a part of any group at Amber’s Place? This had to be some kind of misunderstanding. She must have seen the confusion on my face.

“I was the one who talked to you, not them,” she said. She was really mad. “Now they talk to you and about you and still, no one notices me. No one sees me anywhere. You step in and overnight, you’re the star of the show. I guess I got what I asked for, huh? And I bet Red didn’t even consider putting me in charge.”

It was just a guess, but Red might have already seen this unstable side of Shaunda. It was clear that she was serious, but I couldn’t wrap my brain around her being so upset by my helping out with the reception.

Shaunda, who looked like a supermodel, was jealous of me. It made no sense.

“Yeah, but they’re torturing me,” I said, defending myself. If she only knew I would rather trade her places. It would be easier to be invisible. “You’ve seen them, they treat me like crap.”

“Yeah, but they
see
you,” she said, softening her voice. She let the tears roll down under her nose and chin. I didn’t know what to say.

“Shaunda, you’re so beautiful, you can’t possibly think that no one notices you,” I said. I wasn’t sure if my words would make her feel any better, but I wasn’t sure what else to say. She held up her hand to stop me. She wiped her face and neck with the palms of her hands, drying them on the thighs of her dark blue skinny stretch jeans.

“It’s okay, I’ve learned to live in the shadow,” she said. “I’ve been there my whole life.”

She had no idea how much we really had in common.

Before I said anything else, Tilly and Ms. Rose came bounding through the front door. We stood and I exchanged hugs with Ms. Rose, while Shaunda stood to the side with her head down. Tilly and I watched them both walk down the street.

“That was nice, huh, baby?” Tilly asked, nudging me. “Everything okay out here between you two?”

“Yeah,” I said, and that’s all I could say.

“Looks like you’re finally making some new friends,” she said.

Tilly seemed so happy that I nodded.

By the time we got back upstairs, the sun had completely set and the dishes were already cleared and washed. I picked up the phone to call my parents.

“Tash, baby, we miss you so much,” my parents said, almost in unison. It was good to hear their voices. It was good to think about my home again.

“What’s going on at home?” I asked excitedly. I wanted to hear how much everyone missed me. Dad said work was good. Mom said the shopping was a bore and asked about the pocketbook I was supposed to find for her. I had actually forgotten all about it. I told her I’d start shopping for it soon.

“So, has Tilly given you enough black history lessons yet?” my dad asked, and we all laughed. I filled them in on everything.
I should have left out a few details, like the fighting and name calling, but I didn’t. I even told them about dinner with Shaunda and my park time with Amir.

“So, I guess you are having a good time after all,” my mom said sadly.

“You sure you’re alright up there?” my dad asked. He needed to hear me say it. “It sounds a little too dangerous to me, to be getting so involved. Remember, you’re coming home soon, but you can come home sooner if you want to.”

“Yeah, your friends are ready for you to be home. They even stopped by to drop something off for you,” my mom added. What friends? Heather was the only one who ever visited. “Heather came by, and Stephanie was with her the last time.”

The conversation quickly took a turn for the worse.

No way could I go home now even if I wanted to. My worst enemy would be waiting at my door when I returned. I hoped Heather didn’t think Stephanie and I would all hold hands and skip down the block together. That girl had treated me like fresh dog poop and now she was stopping by my house and talking to my family?

“You know, I’m really okay up here,” I told them, rushing them to get off the line. “It’s really not that bad. And I’ll be home in no time.”

“Just come home in one piece, okay, kiddo?” My dad got the hint. We were almost done. My mom had a harder time saying good-bye.

“It sounds like Tilly’s put you to work up there, huh?” she
asked. I ignored her. How could she have welcomed Stephanie into our home? I wanted no part of it.

“I love you guys,” I told them. We blew kisses through the phone and they asked to speak to Tilly. I handed the phone to Tilly and ran to punch a hole in something.

I THOUGHT ABOUT Shaunda and her sob story. Not only did I need to plan a reception for these girls, but now I felt guilty for doing it and personally responsible for Shaunda, too.

But how could I possibly help her when I couldn’t even solve my own problems? My best friend had turned against me. My enemy befriended my best friend. I had no reason to go back home.

I stepped out of Tilly’s apartment with renewed strength. I might as well plan a wonderful party while I was here.

“What’s got your thoughts all in a bundle, my dear?” Tilly asked me on the way out of her apartment. No one could understand the thoughts going through my head. Not my mother. Not Heather. Not Quiana, Amir, or even Tilly. We walked down the sidewalk quickly and made it to the station just as a train was pulling to a stop.

“Nothing I want to even try and explain right now,” I told her. She looked hurt. “Hey, Tilly, you know what? Go on without me. I have a quick stop to make.”

She knew I was keeping a secret from her. But not one she needed to know about right away. I hugged her and promised to meet her uptown in less than an hour.

“One hour. I mean it, girl,” she said sternly. “And then I’m sending someone after you. Mark my words.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll show up, I just have something I need to take care of,” I told her. I knew she was serious. The wrinkles between her brows were scrunched. But I had no intention of being late. The conversation I intended to have would only take a few minutes.

I walked to a corner store in the opposite direction. I bought breakfast and started combing the streets. It only took me twenty minutes to find him. Rex was squatting behind the basketball courts.

“Well, well, well, look what the cat drug in this fine morning,” he said, smiling. He looked like he hadn’t slept all night. Every piece of clothing he wore was tattered down to the last thread, like he’d been through a paper shredding machine. I set a package of blueberry Pop-Tarts on top of the shopping cart where all of his life possessions were piled.

“I’m still here,” I said. “Hey, Rex, how are you?”

“Good for you,” he said, sort of ignoring my question. “We need the nice folk like you to stay around this neighborhood. Seems like everyone grows up and moves away. Not me, I’m staying around forever.”

Rex always said something to make me feel better. It never dawned on me that someone like Rex could have so many
important things to say. There was always a deeper meaning behind his words.

“I’m good now,” he said, ripping the Pop-Tarts open. “Were you looking for me?”

“Yeah, actually I was,” I told him. He took a giant-sized bite from the first Pop-Tart. A few crumbs fell from his lips. “I had something I wanted to ask you.”

“Okay, shoot,” Rex said. He turned so he was facing me. “What is it?”

He smiled and finished the rest of his breakfast while I pitched my idea to him. He was very patient and let me finish all I had to say. Every few minutes he nodded his head or grunted a little in response, but that was it. When I was done, he smiled a little, stood, and rolled his cart off down the street.

About ten feet away he said, “Very interesting indeed,” but never turned around.

I arrived in the Bronx with fifteen minutes to spare, but I rushed to find Tilly so she would stop worrying. I found her in the multipurpose room with the rest of my nonenthusiastic planning committee. Shaunda, Susan, and Maria were lounging on a sofa with books close to their noses. Rochelle and Monique were browsing through a
Black Hair
magazine. Quiana was nearby in a corner alone, twirling a cigarette around and around in her fingers. Tilly, Coach, and Red were in another corner talking.

I looked around the room. We weren’t that different at all. I just had to convince the girls we could work together.

“Ooh wee, look, everybody.” Rochelle lowered the magazine. “Someone finally got a makeover. Self-discovery is a beautiful thing.”

Rochelle and Monique cracked up laughing. I ran my fingers through the braids Tilly had put in my hair and walked around them to have a seat with the other girls. Rochelle stuck out her foot like she was going to trip me, but I saw her first and stepped over. She wiped tears away from the corners of her eyes, she was laughing so hard.

“Your hair looks really pretty like that,
mami,”
Maria said, smiling at me. She made space for me on the couch and I sat down. Susan smiled, too, agreeing with her.

“Yeah, it sure does look pretty,” Rochelle said, “looks like someone wanted to look just like you, Quiana.”

The girls started laughing again. They did look a little like her braids but it was a completely different design. Quiana wasn’t the type of girl to be flattered by copycats.

“Actually, it looks decent,” Monique said, not looking up from the magazine. I knew she wasn’t reading anymore, because Rochelle had half of it folded in her hands. Rochelle and Quiana looked at her, but no one said anything.

Red walked over to us then to make sure we had an idea of what we needed to get accomplished for the day. “You don’t have long, ladies, so I would get down to business if I were you.”

Red reminded us that everyone had a role to play in the planning and we should be open-minded and willing to listen. After that, she was gone, and she took Tilly and Coach with her.

The floor was mine and all eyes were on me, some squinted, some slanted, some wide-eyed, but they were all on me. I could feel my heart beating through my shirt.

“Well, who knew? Sellout hasn’t given up yet after all,” Quiana said loudly. “Still think you can pull this off?”

“Yep, and you’re gonna help me,” I said, with my shoulders back, ready for an attack.

“We’ll see,” she said, spitting sarcasm like venom.

“You have something I want and I have something you want, so we might as well work together,” I told her, ignoring all the
oohs
and
aahs
coming from the other girls. Those were fighting words, but I hadn’t meant them to come out so harshly. I braced for a hit. She sized me up for a minute and laughed it off.

“Let’s get to work before you make me mad, Sellout,” she said. And that was it. It was time to work. I was jumping up and down inside at my small victory with Quiana.

“Okay, I made a list of some things for the reception,” I said, my voice shaking a little. “Let me know if any of these things appeals to you.”

I read from the list about floral decorating ideas, menu varieties, and guest speakers. With every word out of my mouth, I heard a new sound.

“We could have…”

Sneeze.

“…um, salmon and rice.”

Cough.

“Or we could have…chicken and salad.”

Hiccup.

“Roses are nice and appropriate for the…”

Another sneeze.

Finally, I just stopped reading.

“Well, that was a lovely list,” Rochelle said, “but I’m sure we have better ideas.”

She slapped five with Quiana and reached to do the same with Monique. Monique ignored her.

“I like the idea of roses,” she said, shocking everyone. I wrote down
roses
and watched a few heads nodding in agreement. “We could use them on the tables around the food and around the stage area.”

I wrote that down, too.

“And how about matching outfits for all the girls?” Maria added, holding on to her stomach. She shifted in her seat. “Or how about robes? We could wear blue robes with pink ribbons.”

This was great. I wrote every idea down and listened to the girls argue about the blue and pink ribbons. No one liked that idea except for Maria, but everyone was involved. Even Quiana jumped in a few times to add her two cents.

“There ain’t no way I’m wearing a robe,” she said, leaning all the way back in her seat and stretching her legs out in front of her. “That would look crazy anyway, Maria. Why don’t you just sit back and take care of that baby?”

Maria made a face, and shifted again in her chair. She rubbed her hands across her forehead and her belly.

“I would like to hear our names read at a podium,” Susan
said quietly, almost so softly that we had to lean in to hear her. “When my brother graduated from college they had a podium, a large screen, and some guy was saying their names. It was exciting, like the start of a basketball game or something when they call out the team names.”

Her face was red and she was really excited about it.

I looked around at each girl and everyone had smiles. Finally, one thing we all agreed on. I wrote that down, too.

“That is the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard,” Quiana said, folding her arms.

“Well, I haven’t heard you come up with anything better,” I said, a little too quickly. All the laughter stopped. Quiana uncrossed her arms. I wasn’t scared anymore. “Well? Let’s hear your ideas if you have them, Quiana.”

I had a full list of great ideas. Quiana had laughed at all of them. She had to come up with something better or I didn’t want to hear from her. If she didn’t want to get recognized for helping me, that was fine, but I had decided this reception was going to be a nice one, with or without her.

The girls waited for what seemed like an eternity and they all looked as shocked as I felt. We waited and waited and waited to see what Quiana was going to say—more important, what Quiana was going to do.

She had her fists twisted up into balls, but loosened them again.

“If you’re going to recognize me, I want some of my home girls doing it,” she said roughly. And that was it. Little did she know she came up with the best idea I had written down. I
looked at all the girls sitting around the circle and knew exactly who to assign that responsibility to.

I wrote it in my notebook along with the other ideas and smiled at her. She scowled at me and sat back again. We went back to talking about flowers.

Maria wanted sunflowers and shifted in her seat again. When Monique suggested lilies, Maria cried out louder than all of us. She grabbed her stomach and fell out of the chair.

“Maria!” Quiana was on her feet fast. She and Rochelle pulled Maria back up onto the chair and I ran for help.