Second Chance Read online

“Jayd, wait. Let me at least take you out one more time. Besides, everybody’s rooting for us to get back together.” No doubt this little bit of drama makes a tasty episode in the days of the lives of the jealous and bored.

  “I don’t know, KJ. I’ll think about it. Now, like I said, I got stuff to do. Good night.”

  “All right, Jayd. I’ll see you at school tomorrow. And don’t be acting like you don’t know me anymore. It’s bad for our reputation.”

  “Whatever,” I say, walking in the house and closing the door. Dudes can be so full of themselves sometimes.

  Let’s take a long walk, around the park, after the dark. There’s Jeremy’s special ring tone. Who else better than Jill Scott to sing about my new baby?

  I’m cool on KJ for right now. He’s trying to make me conform to his and everybody else’s expectations of a happy ending. But, just like black hair, you can try to pull it straight all you want, but it always wants to be kinky. And, I want to get to know my new man, not deal with more bull from the old one.

  5

  Jungle Fever

  “I might date another race or color/It doesn’t mean I don’t like my strong Black brothers.”

  —EN VOGUE

  Now that KJ’s gone, maybe I can get down to business.

  I’ve got mad homework now that school’s in full motion. It’s always been difficult balancing my school, home, and family life, but not impossible. But first, let me call my new baby back. I wanted to get settled before talking to him, so I let his call go to voice mail.

  “Hello.”

  “Hey, Jeremy, it’s Jayd. You rang,” I say, making myself comfy at the dining room table, books in tow.

  “I know your voice, Jayd,” he says, sounding all sexy. His voice is heavy and sweet, like molasses. I can hear the smile on his face. “So, what are you up to tonight?” he asks as if it’s the weekend.

  “My homework and then to bed. What else is there to be up to?” I ask, opening my English textbook. Mama’s already wrapped her hair up in a scarf and is headed to the bathroom for a bath before everyone gets home, particularly Daddy. There’s an unofficial bathroom schedule in the house: Mama first and everybody else when they can. The only person bold enough to challenge this rule is Daddy.

  “Well, I was going to invite you over for dinner. We don’t eat until seven-thirty around here.”

  “Here, as in your family?” I ask. That’s a big step, and I want to make it clear that I think so. When I first had dinner with KJ’s family, it officially sealed us as a couple.

  “Yes. My mom cooks every night. You like Southern food?” Jeremy asks, not knowing my family’s also from the South. I learned all about Jeremy’s family on our first date. But really, I thought my family history would be a little too much for him, so I kept my answers to his questions light.

  “Hell, yes,” I exclaim. “My mama’s from Louisiana, so we’re always eating good over here.”

  “Really? I didn’t know you were a Southern girl,” he says with the cutest imitation of a Southern drawl, as if I’m not already finding him irresistible.

  “Oh, yeah, my mama can cook her ass off.” Speaking of which, Mama asked me to look after the beans a minute ago, and I completely forgot. I hope they’re not sticking to the pot.

  “So can mine. She’s got four men to feed, so she’s got mad skills in the kitchen.”

  “Now, hold on there, White boy,” I tease, “don’t start using my language. Your mom may be able to throw down and all, but don’t forget your place,” I say, getting up from my seat to tend to the beans on the stove.

  “Say it to my face, shorty,” he says.

  “Oh, no you didn’t go there,” I say, pretending to be offended. We’re having a good time now.

  “Oh, yes I did. You’re cute, but still a shorty.”

  “You know what, Jeremy, I’m going to let you slide on that one for now because I have to save these beans and start the corn bread before my grandmother gets out of the tub,” I say as I reach for the cornmeal and flour in the crowded cupboard.

  “So, can you come and play or not?” Jeremy persists.

  “No, I can’t. Too late and too short notice. Besides, my grandmother doesn’t like me going out on school nights, and she doesn’t let me stay out late like my mother does.”

  “But I thought you were at your mama’s house?” Jeremy asks, sounding confused.

  “No. I call my grandmother Mama, get it?” I ask, still not sure he does.

  “Okay, whatever. Can you clear it with one of them to come to dinner one night, after school? I’ll take you home, to whomever’s house you’re at that day,” he says very sarcastically.

  “You can be a little smart-ass when you want to, huh, Jeremy?” I ask, again teasing.

  “Awwwe, baby, I thought you knew,” he says. I’m laughing at him now.

  “Jayd, are you watching those beans?” Mama yells from the bathroom. That’s my official warning to get off the phone.

  “I’ll clear it with my grandmother and get back to you. Now, I have to go before I get yelled at.”

  “Can you call me later? I’ll be up until about midnight.” He’s just not knowing my life at all, is he?

  “Sweety, after I finish cooking dinner I have homework, as you know, and then I will try to be in bed by eleven, and that depends on if I can get in the bathroom by ten or before.”

  “Why can’t you call me after your bath?” he asks. I like that he wants to talk to me before he goes to bed.

  “Because I wake up at 5:30 A.M. , and I need my beauty sleep,” I say, more serious than he knows. The Williams women are notorious for being ugly and cranky if we don’t get enough sleep.

  “Damn, why so early? You surf or something?”

  “No, silly. It takes a while to get to school on the bus. Compton ain’t around the corner from Redondo Beach, ya know,” I say, trying to mix batter and stir the beans at the same time. Mama would kill me if she could see me now.

  “Yeah, I know. But we’ll have to work on your morning transportation soon. Good night.” Well damn, I like his directness. This dude’s gone get me so sprung on his ass I ain’t gone never want to let go.

  “I’ll hold you to that, Sir Jeremy.”

  “Please do, Lady J.” And, with that last tingle down my spine, we hung up. Lady J. I like the sound of that. I’ve got to call Nellie and tell her about this. She’s still a bit irritated that I blew off her, Mickey, and the party at Byron’s on Saturday night, but she’s slowly getting over it.

  After dinner, I finish my homework, take my bath, and lay out my clothes for tomorrow. Now that Jeremy and I are officially dating, I want to look as cute as possible every day. I better call Nellie before it gets too late. As I grab my phone out of my purse, I notice there’s a text message from KJ.

  “Hey, Jayd. Just wanted to say good night and I can’t wait 2 start over 2morrow. Nite, KJ.”

  This boy’s too much. First he’s playing pop-up this afternoon. Now he’s sending me good night messages. I’ve never been so flattered and irritated at the same time. I wonder how long this new KJ will last. I scroll down my contact list and locate Nellie’s number. Cell phones are so convenient. I don’t have anyone’s number on deck anymore—not even my girls’. They’re all in the phone.

  “Hello,” Nellie says, sounding interrupted.

  “Hey, girl, it’s Jayd. Whatcha doin’?” I ask, trying to break the ice.

  “Why you acting like you didn’t ditch your girls for the cute White boy and then not even spend break or lunch with us today because you’re hangin’ with him and his crew?” she says, trying to make me feel guilty, but in a tone that lets me know she’s cool and would have done the same thing.

  “Girl, it’s only Tuesday. You make it sound like I’ve been gone for weeks.”

  “Well, it sure does seem that way, especially since we didn’t get to kick it yesterday due to our unfortunate incarceration. And, girl, everybody in South Central is talking about y’
all, especially since neither of you showed up to the party on Saturday. But, I covered for you.”

  “Covered for me how?” I ask, wondering what kind of damage Nellie has done.

  “I just said you came down with a little fever. Jungle fever, that is,” Nellie says, getting a real kick out of her little joke.

  “I’m not laughing with you, girl, just at you,” I say, hanging my clothes on the back of the door and walking out the bedroom and toward the kitchen for more privacy. “But seriously, though. What am I gone do about KJ? He keeps calling me and texting me. Do you know that fool even came by here this afternoon trying to get me to talk to him?” I say.

  “I don’t know, Jayd. If it were me, I’d at least give the brotha another chance. But then again, you don’t want to miss out on going with Jeremy. He’s so cute, popular, and did I mention the boy’s got bank?” she says. Nellie can teach a college course on gold digging.

  “Speaking of which, Jeremy just invited me to dinner with his family. He wanted me to go tonight, but I had too much work to do, and Mama probably wouldn’t let me go anyway.”

  “Jayd, you need to get some more freedom up in that house. You’re the only girl in high school I know who has to cook dinner when she gets home and has a curfew. That’s just slavery. I’m going to start calling you Cinderella if you don’t speak up for yourself,” Nellie says, making me laugh. If she only knew the half of it. I don’t talk about my spiritual work with any of my friends, especially not Nellie. Her mom’s very Episcopalian, and Nellie’s not too far behind.

  “And, this too shall pass,” I say, quoting one of Mama’s favorite Bible verses.

  “It’ll pass faster if you say something.” This is an ongoing argument between Nellie and me. It usually starts because I can’t accompany her to the mall and nail shop on a regular basis.

  “Look, I want to hang out late on school nights, but I just can’t. And, I like cooking. Jeremy says his mom can throw down too.”

  “What are you going to tell KJ? You know if you meet his parents, it’s a big deal,” she says, reminding me of the first time I met KJ’s parents. They were so nice, and the food was so good. I instantly fell in love with his vibe at home. KJ’s a sweet guy at his core. It’s just the exterior attitude that needs help. I wonder if I’ll fall in love with Jeremy’s home too?

  “So, are you gone become a surfer chick now? You know you’ll have to turn in your Black card if you do that,” Nellie says.

  “No, Nellie, ain’t nobody turning in no cards around here. But, I’m having fun. He’s so funny and sweet and fine. I just love his smile and his whole outlook on life. He’s so different,” I say, wishing I had time to call Jeremy. Mama already gave me the look when I walked out just now. It’s way past my bedtime. I’ll just have to send him a good night text on the low instead.

  “Well, girl, I say ride the wave and screw the consequences,” Nellie says, sounding like an old lady. “You only live once. Have fun, girl. And, get him to take you shopping. He’s balling.”

  “Nellie, I am not using Jeremy for his money.”

  “Well then, can you ask him to take me instead?”

  “Good night, Nellie. I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say, laughing.

  “Good night, girl.” When Nellie hangs up, I send Jeremy a quick message saying good night again before turning in for the night. I can’t wait to see him tomorrow.

  By the time I get settled in my bed, it’s eleven-thirty. I’ve got to be up in a few hours to face the day at South Bay High. Every day seems to be filled with the same drama. But, at least now I have a new face to look forward to seeing on a regular basis.

  “Jayd. Wake up, girl. Your man’s in trouble. And, it’s all your fault!” a familiar voice screams at me from the dark. I feel like I’m outside and the wind is blowing so much I can hardly keep my eyes open long enough to see anything.

  “Jeremy,” a woman’s voice screams from the distance. And then I see Jeremy walk up the steps to the main hall. And in slow motion a huge wave hits him from behind. When the water recedes, Jeremy is nowhere to be found.

  “Jeremy,” I scream, but it’s too late. Why didn’t I warn him about the wave? Would it have made a difference, or would he still have been engulfed by the powerful water?

  Even with all the gossip about us spreading around school like a forest fire, Jeremy and I are still going strong. So far, so good. Our friends are still getting used to the idea that we’re dating, but that’s for them to deal with, not us. Every new couple needs to spend time alone to get to know each other and chill before actually solidifying the relationship. And, we’re doing just that.

  “I really like eating off campus. It’s so relaxing to leave school behind, even if for only a little while,” I say, sipping my chocolate milk shake from Jack-in-the-Box. KJ and I would go off campus occasionally, but not every day, like Jeremy and his crew. Even if they all don’t go, someone at least makes a food run. They hardly ever eat campus food.

  “Yeah, it’s a relief, isn’t it? Makes you remember the world is bigger than high school,” Jeremy says.

  “You can say that again. I like hangin’ with you,” I say, grabbing hold of his hand as we walk back to campus from the main parking lot.

  “Hey, man. Can I holla at you for a minute?” one of Jeremy’s friends says as we start to walk up the stairs leading to the main hall. A strong sea breeze kicks up dust into the air, and something feels like déja vù.

  “Sure thing, man. Jayd, give me a second, would you?”

  “Yeah, go ahead. I’ll wait here,” I say, totally missing the signs of the impending drama. As Jeremy talks with his friend, the breeze knocks some napkins left over from lunch out of my hand. They fly everywhere. I chase after them in the wind, which causes me to break out in a light sweat.

  As I run around like a dog chasing its tail, I notice Stan and Dan, campus security, watching Jeremy. I look over toward Jeremy and see what they see: Jeremy gives what looks like a cigarette to the dude. I want to warn Jeremy, but it’s too late. Stan and Dan close in on them, and all I can do is watch.

  6

  I’m Your Pusher

  “In this life one thing counts/In the bank large amounts”

  —LUDACRIS

  After Jeremy and his friend were handcuffed and led to the office, I went to class as if nothing happened. I didn’t tell anyone in class, not even my home girl, Alia. She’s the coolest White girl I’ve ever met, and she’s on the same track as me, so we have most of our classes together.

  “Hey, Jayd. Is everything all right? You look a little pale,” she says, turning around in her seat to look at me. She’s a pretty girl with long, blond hair, usually streaked with multiple fluorescent colors, and dark blue eyes. She’s on the girl’s volleyball team, although I think she should play basketball. What’s the point of being six feet tall and not ballin’?

  “I’m fine, girl. Just tired of the drama,” I respond, telling the truth without giving up too much info.

  “Well, you’re not only in the wrong school; you’re in the wrong class,” she says, referring to our fifth period drama class, which is actually my favorite class of the day despite how I feel at the moment. Our teacher, Mrs. Sinclair, is pretty cool. She’s so wound up in her personal life she doesn’t bother us too much about assignments. As long as we look busy, she leaves us alone. The only time she gets serious is when we have a show to put on. Other than that, drama class is like a free period. Chance and I usually kick it, but he’s not here today. I wonder if he’s with Jeremy.

  “Alia, have you seen Chance today?” I ask, knowing she’d know. She’s secretly had a crush on him since last year. But, she’s definitely not his type. He’s not into punk girls, although I think they’d make an adorable couple.

  “I saw him earlier, but he hasn’t made an appearance in class yet. Want to check the theater?” she asks.

  “No, that’s okay.” The one thing about South Bay is it’s got hella money. Not only does this sc
hool have a full drama program, including a stage crew class and five drama classes, it also has a state-of-the-art theater, boys’ and girls’ dressing rooms, and the rehearsal room, which we use as a classroom. Most of the students kick it in the theater, but even the drama clique has subdivisions.

  The drama stars, who think they’re the only talented ones, hang out on stage, practicing monologues for auditions or just playing around. The wannabes hang out in the audience, watching the stars to learn a thing or two, I suppose. And then there are the talented ones, who hang in the classroom and just chill until we have to work. This last subdivision includes Matt, Chance, Alia, Leslie, Seth, and myself. We’re usually chosen to perform in short skits and plays. The stars are always the leads in the musical productions, mostly because their parents are the financial sponsors for the drama program.

  “Hey, Miss Jayd,” Matt says, strolling into the room accompanied by Leslie and Seth, all tardy as usual.

  “It’s a good thing Mrs. Sinclair doesn’t take roll,” Alia says as she gets up to give them each a hug.

  “Now, you know she’s way too busy deciding between her old husband and the new one to be bothered with us,” Leslie responds. Mrs. Sinclair and her husband, Mr. Sinclair, the senior economics teacher, have been the most popular teachers’ couple for years, or so I’ve heard. But lately Mrs. Sinclair has been coming to school driving a fancy little Porsche, which doesn’t belong to her or her husband. She’s also showing a little baby bump, and we all know Mr. Sinclair ain’t the baby daddy: she slipped and told the entire class he had a vasectomy last year and she was upset about it. I guess she found a way to get over it.

  “Hey, have y’all seen Chance?” I ask as Matt and Seth each take a seat in the empty row of desks in front of mine.

  “Actually, Chance called me a few minutes ago and told me he wouldn’t be here; he had something to handle,” Matt says, reclining back in his seat for his afternoon nap.