The Atonement (7 page)

“Why are you being such a **** ?! Getting all
up in my business! What the hell is that all about?”

“
Because believe it or not,
I worry about you,” said Tim, “Lately it seems like you’ve been
hemorrhaging money more than usual and the fact that you won’t tell
me what it’s for makes me think you’re in some kind of
trouble.”

“Your concern isn’t necessary. I know how to
take care of myself. I’m not the one running around with some
religious cult.”

“It’s not a cult. If you went with me
sometime you’d see that.”

“If that was meant as an invitation, I’ll
pass.”

“Think about it, Allyson. Can you honestly
say you’re happy with your life right now?”

“You know what, forget this! I didn’t come
here for a street corner sermon. If you don’t want to give me the
money, fine. I have other means,” said Allyson as she turned to
walk out.

Tim didn’t like the sound of that. The last
thing he wanted was for his sister to end up in some compromising
situation to get money.

“Allyson, wait!” said Tim grabbing her by the
arm. Allyson snatched it away from his grasp.

“Here’s your money.”

“Finally!”

Allyson snatched it, pushed Tim aside and
bolted toward the door.

“Your welcome!” Tim called after her. She
didn’t even look back as she let the door slam behind her.

That’s the way it always went. When it came
to Tim, Allyson always did her best to be as nasty and as cruel as
she could possibly be. No matter how much Tim tried to get used to
her behavior, it still hurt. It made him wonder what he could have
done so long ago to make her hate him so much. She’d never bothered
telling him and didn’t think she ever would. In the past, he’d
tried to reach out to Allyson, but she always put up a wall of
resistance. It made him think that maybe he should just give up on
her. Then that scripture in the book of Matthew came back to his
mind again – the one about being reconciled to one’s brother, or in
his case, a sister. “I don’t know,” thought Tim, “In scripture it
seems so simple, but I have a feeling that trying to apply it in
real life is going to be a lot harder.”

Six

As she rode down in the elevator, Allyson
counted her money to make sure it was all there. Despite her bluff,
she would have been in some tough straights had Tim decided not to
give it to her. But she always knew what to say to get what she
wanted out of him. To her pleasant surprise, there was $800.00
instead of the $500.00 she’d originally asked for. The fresh bills
may have clung together causing her brother to miscount them. “Too
bad bro. Your loss is my gain,” she thought to herself as she put
it in her purse. “Anyway, Tim has a job, not to mention that fat
trust fund he cashed in when he turned 21, so it’s not like he’s
going broke.” When the elevator opened in the lobby, she hurried
out of the building and headed out to the driveway entrance where
her sorority sisters were waiting for her. Allyson opened the door
to the front passenger seat of their car and got in.

“It’s about time,” said the girl in the
driver seat of the expensive silver sports car. She had long, dark,
wavy hair and was wearing a close fitting green silk dress with a
deep v-neck. “I still don’t see why we had to stop so far out of
our way when there’s an ATM right across the street from the
bar.”

“You can call the shots when you’re the one
that’s paying,” said Allyson as she fastened her seat belt.

“No need to snap at Courtney. How would she
know that you just have to use the ATM in the building where your
sugar daddy lives?” said Trish.

Allyson knew what Trish was insinuating, but
she had to let it slide. They didn’t know she had a brother and she
wanted to keep it that way. She was afraid that if they ever found
out, they’d be staking out the New Towers waiting for the
opportunity to throw their underwear at Tim, and Trish would be
breaking her neck to be the first one. Allyson hated Trish more
than any of the others. She was the only one whose background could
come close to her own. Trish Shaw was old money black bourgeois who
could trace her heritage back to the original Sugar Hill elites in
Harlem. While the Shaws were not as rich as the Russells, they had
a lot of clout in the social world they were all a part of because
of their political connections. Allyson knew it was why she was
always challenging her. But Allyson also knew that even Trish
needed to be put in her place every once in a while.

“You’re right, Trish. By the way, your dad
says, hello.”

“No, I think you’re confused. My dad has
better taste,” said the young artificial blonde, as she pulled her
coat over her slinky black dress.

“Now he does. Too bad we can’t say the same
when he got married.”

“Don’t start, you two,” said Monica. “No need
to ruin a perfectly good evening before it gets started.”

“I’m not the one that’s PMS-ing,” said
Trish.

“That’s because you’re menopausing,” said
Allyson.

“Ouch,” said Courtney.

“I just hope we get there before it gets
crowded and they start watering down the drinks,” said Monica as
she looked at herself in a compact mirror to fix her makeup while
trying to keep her long auburn tresses out of the way.

“It’s not even 11:00 and the place is 30
minutes away. Honestly, Monica, try not to wet your diaper,” said
Allyson.

“I bet you’re wetting yours thinking about
Maxwell. You think you’re ready to kiss and make up?”

“I’m over Maxwell. I’ve got my eye on someone
with much more potential.”

“Like who?”

“What?”

“I said, who?”

“Hunh?”

“Who? Who?!”

“Excuse me, I don’t speak owl.”

Courtney let out a loud shriek before
cackling wildly.

“Ha-ha, how funny” scowled Monica, “By the
way would you mind keeping your eyes on the road.”

“You have to admit you walked right into
that, Money,” replied Courtney.

This was the last place where Allyson wanted
to be: in a car full of self-centered, spoiled, and privileged AKA
witches. To say that she hated being an AKA was an understatement.
The only reason she joined was to shut her mother up and keep her
from getting into her business. To Allyson, the AKA’s were the
lowest of the sororities on campus. Most of their pledges came from
middle class and buppie families with only a few rich girls here
and there. In addition, she felt being with them isolated her from
the other rich kids on campus, and limited her social stratosphere.
She was convinced the rich white girls that she used to hang out
with had started distancing themselves from her because she was
part of a black sorority. This hampered her chance to make a
connection with any of the premium guys that were not in the old
money African – American circles. The only consolation to being an
AKA was at the same time a burden. As one of the few rich girls,
Allyson had a lot of rank with her sisters that she would not have
had otherwise. However that rank came with a price. She was always
the one that ended up paying the expenses for nights out and the
different social functions they attended.

Tonight they were headed to a bar in the
burbs above the Bronx that was frequented by the Alpha Phi Alpha
guys from their school. Word was out that there was going to be a
crush of them there that were honoring their new pledges. All of
the high profile guys would be there, and there was one in
particular that Allyson was looking out for, making this event a
priority. Since it was a bar and not a frat house, there would be a
cover charge and then they’d have to pay extra for drinks. Allyson
spent the last of her allowance on her hair, designer heels, and
dress for this occasion. So she had no choice but to get money from
her brother to cover the rest. Leaving her sisters hanging was not
an option: to do so would have amounted to social suicide in her
world. Frat communities, especially within the black bourgeois,
were very tight, and if you didn’t adhere to the unspoken social
rules, you were excommunicated. Once you were out, you weren’t let
back in, no matter how much status and money you had. As much as
she resented them, Allyson needed the AKAs. Being shut out of the
wider American aristocracy, the black bourgeois was the only world
she had access to and it was the only world that she knew how to
operate in.

It wasn’t long before they had arrived at the
Riverdale Boat Club, and when they went inside it was packed with
Alphas who were already getting sloppy drunk. Most of them were the
scrub pledges that were being plied with drinks by the senior
members. There were also some other AKA’s from another chapter at
New York University. Allyson and her sisters slinked over to a
table next to one where a group of senior Alphas were sitting. Not
long after they took their seats, one of the staff came to their
table with a bottle.

“
Courtesy of the gentleman
at table 7 over there,” said the woman waiting on them.

Allyson looked over and saw Maxwell raising
his glass to her. She shot him an icy look before returning her
attention to the party she was with.

“
Here we go,” said
Courtney.

“
I told you. I’m done with
Max.”

“
Well, based on this kind
gesture, it doesn’t seem like he’s through with you,” said
Monica.

“
I don’t blame Ally,” said
Trish, “Why would she want to get back with him after he’s let the
whole campus, and possibly the world, know that he prefers Kellie’s
homemade pie to hers. As a matter of fact, it seems he prefers
everyone’s homemade pie to Allyson’s.”

“
Correction - everyone’s
except yours,” said Allyson.

“
That’s because I have too
much dignity for someone like Maxwell”

“
Yes, we all know your
dignity is reserved for guys who tip”

“
Don’t look now. He’s coming
over,” said Courtney.

This was the last thing that Allyson wanted.
When she began her dalliance with Maxwell, he seemed like the whole
package. He was handsome, came from an established old money
fortune, was well connected, had good manners and was well bred.
Finally, his complexion was fair enough to pass her mother’s
standard. When all was said and done, he was a narcissistic jerk
but this fact had no bearing on her current grudge. Most of the
guys she dated were jerks. Allyson was a pragmatist: she knew that
if she wanted to marry well according to the standards of her
social milieu, she’d have to put up with the various eccentricities
and peccadilloes of her mate. But there were certain things she
wouldn’t live with and Maxwell had crossed the line.

“
Good evening ladies. Nice
seeing you all again,” said Maxwell.

“
Nice seeing you, too.
Thanks for the bottle,” said Monica.

“
You’re welcome.”

“
Any reason you’re trying to
get us wasted when we just got here?” asked Trish.

“
You should know me better
than that. I was just trying to get your evening off to a good
start. Looks like one of you could use it.”

Allyson didn’t even look his way. She was too
busy looking for the object of her interest, when she suddenly
spotted him coming back from the restroom. He was tall and well
built with wavy dark hair. Like her brother, he was a lacrosse
player and he was on the school’s crew team. Jason Simmons was
connected to the Johnson Empire fortune, which made him a worthy
catch indeed. She had met him a week ago at an Alpha party and he
was definitely interested in her. Since then they’d been flirting
back and forth whenever they saw each other and by text. He even
sent her a private picture of himself that she found quite
stimulating. They definitely had chemistry if nothing else. There
was no way Allyson was going to waste time with someone like
Maxwell when better options were available.

“
Excuse me ladies, but I’m
going to say hi to my new friend,” said Allyson as she got up and
began to walk away.

“
Before you rush off, I was
wondering if I could have a word with you,” said Max walking up to
her once she was far enough away from the table.

“
No – and don’t ever come
near me again. Don’t think I won’t file an order of protection,”
she said softly so that no one else could hear her.

“
Overreacting a bit, aren’t
we. It was only a minor - spat, and I don’t see any
bruises…”

“
It’s the bruises you don’t
see that take longer to heal. Sometimes they never do.”

“
Ally, I said I was sorry. I
told you, it won’t happen again.”

“
I know it won’t… because
I’m not going to give you the chance,” she said before leaving him
where he was in the middle of the bar.

Allyson made sure to keep her cool. She
didn’t want Jason to see that she could let someone get her so
flustered.

Jason was at the bar when she approached
ordering another round of drinks for the party at his table. He
looked tantalizing in his close fitting navy-blue button down
shirt, tucked out with the sleeves rolled up, brown slim-fit cords
and matching nubuck wingtips. As she got closer, she became
intoxicated on the spicy smell of his cologne.

“Hey, stranger.”

“Allyson, hi. Didn’t think you’d be here
since it’s only Thursday. Thought you’d be hanging out at the
library.”

“I’ve decided to make Thursday the new
Friday, especially since I don’t have class on Fridays
anymore.”

“You dropped that baroque art class? I
thought you needed it for your major.”

“I do, but Professor Lawson is such a bore.
Not to mention he’s a jerk - you know, the type that likes to fail
people for fun. I figured I’ll wait until the summer when ‘Easy A’
Emmerson’s teaching it.”