Second Chance Page 7

“I’ll just have to trust that Jeremy likes them, no matter how they look,” I say to Lexi, who’s completely disinterested by now. I set the dilapidated cupcakes on the table to cool and grab my backpack to take out my homework. I figure I can get in a couple of hours of homework and still make it to bed by eleven. It’s been a long day and I’m tired. Mama didn’t cook this evening, and I’m too tired to even cut up potatoes to make myself some fries. A bowl of Cornflakes will have to do for dinner tonight. I hope these cupcakes do the trick. I’ll just have to wait until tomorrow to find out.

  7

  From Broad to Snitch

  “A bitch is a bitch.”

  —N.W.A.

  Riding the bus this morning will be especially eventful with my little basket full of cupcakes. It’s never easy carrying anything extra on the bus. The drivers can be cool when they want to be and allow passengers to carry food, even though it’s against the rules.

  When I get to the bus stop, Pam, the neighborhood crack head, is sitting at the bus stop talking to herself. Mama feeds her sometimes. But, normally, Pam’s too out of it to care if she eats or not. It’s not cold, but the morning chill is still in the air, and she’s wearing nothing but a tank top, some biker shorts, and flip-flops. Whenever I see Pam, chills come over me like I’m in the presence of a ghost. I wonder where her family is and how anyone ever gets this far out there.

  “Good morning, Pam,” I say as I sit down next to her on the tattered bench. We’re the only two people out this early in the morning, but she’s heavily engaged in conversation with herself. She’s mumbling and doesn’t respond to my greeting, yet I feel obliged to at least get her to make eye contact. “Pam, how are you this morning?” I ask, only to be ignored again. Mama says I should always speak to Pam just to let her know I see her, unlike the other folks around our neighborhood who pretend she doesn’t exist.

  As the bus pulls up to the curb, Pam finally speaks. “Jayd, tell your mama I said hi,” she says as I rise from the bench and head toward the opened double doors of the MTA bus.

  “I will, Pam. I’ll see you later.” Before I finish my statement, Pam’s again engrossed in her side conversation with people only she can see.

  “Are you coming or not?” the rude bus driver says, rushing me up the steps and onto the nearly empty bus. “And there had better not be any crumbs on my bus when you leave, either,” she says, referring to my basket of goodies and the sign on the bus indicating no food allowed.

  “I’m not gone eat on your bus,” I say, walking to the back of the bus to stretch out before my first transfer in Gardena. Sometimes the three bus rides are a bit much for me. I get tired of the long commute from Compton to the South Bay every morning. I wish I could sleep on at least one of the buses. But, I don’t want to risk missing any of my stops.

  When my final bus pulls up to the stop near South Bay High, my phone rings, displaying Nellie’s name on the Caller ID. What could she possibly want this early in the morning?

  “Hello,” I answer as I exit the Torrance bus and head up the steep hill toward campus, trying to balance my backpack, Jeremy’s basket, and my cell phone all at once.

  “Hey, girl. Are you here yet?” she asks. It must be nice to have a mom and dad to take her to school every morning and who’ll pick her up if need be.

  “Almost. I’m actually walking up the hill as we speak.”As usual, the local residents are outside walking their dogs, watering their lawns, and sending their children off to school, all the while watching me from the corner of their eyes, making sure I don’t steal their lawn ornaments or whatever other possession they may think invaluable.

  “Well, hurry up and get here. We’ve got news, girl.” What now? I can’t even have a nice walk in the morning without some drama jumping off.

  “Why you can’t just tell me over the phone? I need to return a book to the library before I go to my locker this morning, so I’m not going to have time to talk before first period.” I couldn’t help checking out one of my favorite books, Mama Day, for what must be the fifteenth time while in the library last week. I love Gloria Naylor’s writing.

  “Because, I want to see your face when you hear what I have to say.” This can’t be good if Nellie can’t tell me over the phone.

  “Just spill it, Nellie,” I say, halfway up the hill. By the time I get to campus and go to the library, I’ll have just enough time to get to Spanish class before the bell rings.

  “Girl, rumor has it Misty’s the one who ratted out Jeremy’s little side occupation. Ain’t that some shit,” she says as I stop in the middle of my stride to catch my breath. What the hell?

  “Are you serious, Nellie? Where’d you hear that from?” I ask, resuming my hike at a much quicker pace than before. Why does that broad always have to be in the middle of some shit?

  “Well, apparently Shae overheard Misty telling her mom all about it in the office yesterday. You know Misty’s friends with Stan and Dan,” Nellie responds. How can a student be friends with campus security?

  “So, what are you gone do,” Mickey says, shouting through the phone. Nellie must have her cell on speaker because I can hear other students all around them. “See, you should’ve whipped her ass when you had the chance,” she says, reminding me of last week’s fight. “Trecee didn’t finish the job, and I think you should.”

  “Fighting is definitely not the answer. But, I agree with Mickey,” Nellie says, reclaiming control of the conversation. “Something needs to be done about that girl.”

  “I agree with both of you,” I say, feeling my heart beat faster as I step onto campus, heading straight for the library. This broad’s gone too far now. Snitches are not respected in our hood, at all. And, there’s usually only one way to deal with a snitch. But, I don’t want to get too ghetto out here with these White folks. Misty isn’t worth my education or my freedom. If I fight Misty now, it’ll be a straight beat down from the girl formerly known on the street as Lyttle, and that’s dangerous territory.

  “Excuse me, there’s no cell phones in the library,” says one of the librarians from behind the counter. She’s so old she looks like she’s been here since the library was first built.

  “I’ll have to talk to y’all later. Meet me at my locker at break. Maybe by then I’ll have something figured out,” I say, not really wanting to hang up in the middle of the conversation. What the hell am I going to do about Misty? Her being a broad I can handle. But, a snitch? Never.

  “Hey, Jayd. What’s in the basket?” Nellie asks as she and Mickey walk up to my locker. I was unable to concentrate in my first two periods, thinking about how I should respond to this new drama with Misty.

  “It’s a gift for Jeremy,” I say, making sure the basket is completely covered. I don’t want them to see what’s inside. I know they would make fun of my messed-up cupcakes. But, as long as they work, I don’t care what they look like.

  “I thought he was suspended,” Mickey says, trying to snatch the basket.

  “He is. But I was hoping to catch up with him after school,” I say, carefully placing the cupcakes back into my locker before walking to class. I also have to figure out a way to get him to eat them in front of me. If I’ve learned one thing about Mama’s recipes, it’s to follow them to the letter. “Have y’all seen Misty this morning? I want to have a word with her before I go around accusing her of a crime she may not have committed.”

  Nellie and Mickey look at each other in total disbelief.

  “Are you kidding, Jayd? After everything this girl’s done you’re still willing to talk to her?” Mickey asks, looking like she wants to slap some sense into me.

  “I just want to hear it from her mouth before I jump to conclusions,” I say, taking my backpack off to get my English and Spanish books out and place them in my locker before retrieving my government and math books and placing them in my backpack.

  “You need a talk show with all the discussing you try and do with this girl,” Nellie says, leaning up against the locker
s next to mine, getting a bird’s-eye view of the busy hall. “Speaking of which, have you told your man about this new discovery?”

  “No, I haven’t talked to him yet. But, I’m sure he’ll call before lunch.”

  Or maybe we can just chill or maybe ... And there’s Jeremy, right on cue. I retrieve my cell from my purse, eager to hear his voice while my girls wait patiently to continue our conversation.

  “Hey, baby. How’s lockdown?” I ask, knowing he’s probably having the time of his life.

  “Very funny, Lady J. I’m chilling, catching up on repeat episodes of College Hill. How’s school?” he asks, in the sexiest damn voice to ever come through my cell. And, I love it when he calls me Lady J. It sounds so OG.

  “It’s school. You ain’t missing nothing, except for all the gossip about you being the next Scarface,” I say, only half joking. I don’t want to tell him about Misty quite yet, not until I know the truth. The rumors are growing more ridiculous as the day goes by, and it’s still early.

  “So, what are you doing for lunch? I wish you could come over, but my mom’s here and she’s pissed at me. Are you going to miss me?” he asks, sounding a little nostalgic.

  “Oh, my God, Jeremy. Do you miss me already? It’s only been a day,” I say, flattered. Speaking of which, I better go. There’s the warning bell. All the other students are already wrapping up their conversations, including my girls.

  “Hey, baby, I hate to go, but I’m gone be late if I don’t,” I say, not really wanting to end our conversation, but I still need to talk to my girls and get to class on time.

  “Cool. Don’t say anything witty until I get back,” he says. I laugh, missing him even more.

  “I’ll try not to.” Before I could recommend meeting up at the bus stop after school, Jeremy suggests another idea.

  “Can you meet me at Mrs. Bennett’s class after school? She’s going to let me pick up my work so I don’t fall behind, and I thought I could still give you a ride home, if that’s okay with you.” He’s so sweet, thinking of me in his time of need. I’m so glad I made these cupcakes for him. I just pray they keep my man out of jail and at South Bay High. And, that he trusts me enough to eat them, no matter how jacked-up they look.

  “Only for you,” I say, and I mean it. I hate Mrs. Bennett. She’s notorious for being a supporter of anything anti-Black. Because of her reputation, the school made her host the Black History Month celebration last year. It was a success only because she had movies in her room every day during lunch for the entire month. That was her way of celebrating: showing old Black movies, like Pinky, all month long.

  I had the twisted pleasure of having Mrs. Bennett last semester for English. She teaches tenth and twelfth grade A.P. English, which means I have to have her one more time if she stays here. She was as much a bitch then as she is now, and I don’t normally call broads bitches. But, she and Misty are exceptions to the rule.

  “Why do we have to meet in her class? I hate that woman. You know that,” I say.

  “She says she wants to talk to me about something. I’m sure she just wants me to know she has my back at the hearing,” he says, reminding me of his impending appointment with fate tomorrow.

  “What does she have to do with it?”

  “She’s one of my character witnesses. We’ll talk about it later. You’d better go before you’re late,” Jeremy says, and he’s right. I only have a few minutes left before the final bell rings.

  “Jayd,” Mickey says, interrupting my conversation. “We’ve got to go. See you at lunch?”

  “Yeah, I’ll see y’all later. We need to finish our conversation. And, Nellie, tell everybody in your class to mind their own damn business,” I say as they walk away. I know all of them South Central folk have class together and they’re having a field day with this new bit of drama.

  “Jeremy, I’ll call you at lunch,” I say as I start speed walking down the main hall.

  “All right, I’ll talk to you then. Bye, baby.” Ooh, I love it when he calls me baby. I feel like we’ve been together forever. As I walk down the main hall toward Mrs. Peterson’s room, I notice Ms. Toni coming from the main office.

  “Hey, Ms. Toni. How are you this morning?” I ask, stopping to give her a big hug. It’s always nice to see her.

  “Hello, Miss Jayd. You’re on your way to government, right?”

  “Yes, Ms. Toni. And I know you heard about Jeremy and the whole bust thing, but it’s not as bad as it sounds,” I say, trying to diffuse this argument before it begins.

  “Oh, no? Is that why you haven’t been by my office this week?” She’s right. I have been avoiding her. But only because I know she won’t approve of my seeing Jeremy, especially not now.

  “Jayd, what are you thinking? That boy is trouble waiting to happen. Now, usually I don’t speak ill of students. But, Jayd, I’ve seen this happen to young, Black girls time and time again. These rich White boys are all alike.”

  “All alike how?” I ask, waiting to hear her answer.

  “They’re spoiled, bored risk takers, Jayd. I’ve seen too many decent girls ruin their reputations over the wrong boys. You’re too smart for him, Jayd. And I don’t want you to be pulled down with him. And he is going down for this one.”

  “He’s not going anywhere, Ms. Toni. And besides, I think you’re overreacting.”

  “Am I? Does your grandmother know about his little drug problem?” she asks, knowing I ain’t told Mama nothing. As I try to think of a savvy comeback, I notice students rushing up and down the halls, slamming lockers, and sneaking last urgent conversations and kisses before the final bell for fourth period rings.

  “Ms. Toni, that was a low blow. Everyone deserves a second chance. Besides, I have to go before I’m late for class.”

  “Fine, Jayd. But we’re not done. Come see me by tomorrow or I’ll have you summoned out of government in front of your new man, do you hear me?” Ms. Toni yells after me as I rush down the hall. I really don’t want to be late. That’ll just make Mrs. Peterson’s day, and I ain’t about to give her the satisfaction. It’s going to be weird not seeing my baby in class, especially since he’s my buffer as far as Mrs. Peterson’s concerned. I can’t wait till after school when I finally get to hug my man.

  Thank God the rest of morning is uneventful. Instead of kickin’ it with Mickey and Nellie at lunch, I choose to chill alone. I just don’t feel like dealing with everybody talking about Jeremy right now, especially not when I’m trying to help him. I decide to calm down before confronting Misty. Instead, I spend my time talking to Jeremy on the cell and filling him in on the day’s drama, which has only just begun for me.

  When I get to Mrs. Bennett’s classroom, hoping Jeremy’s already outside, she notices me standing by her door and signals me to come in. I’m almost nauseated by the pungent mixture of gardenia perfume and the strong coffee percolating in the corner. Her room looks like a country inn in a French magazine, with two dozen student desks in the center of her perfect picture.

  “Jayd, what are you doing here?” she asks, obviously annoyed by my presence.

  “I’m here to meet Jeremy. He told me to meet him after school,” I say, pissed that I’m here before him. My plan was to meet him outside and keep stepping. Not to actually engage in a conversation with this evil woman. She’s hella snide and creepy, like the witch in the “Hansel and Gretel” story, ya know? Just weird. And she’s real tiny and old like all the witches in the fairy tales too. Why Jeremy would ever choose to be friendly with this woman is beyond me.

  I wouldn’t put it past Mrs. Bennett to give private lessons to some of her male students on things other than the English language, like that other teacher who made her student her baby daddy. I bet she’s got a crush on Jeremy and some of his cute surfer friends. She strikes me as the conniving, jealous type. I don’t know what it is about her, but this woman gives me the creeps.

  “Jayd, what exactly is your relationship with Jeremy, hmm?” she asks, while putting
on her thin-framed glasses. She slips into the chair behind her desk and looks up at me over a stack of papers.

  “I don’t have to answer that. I’ll wait outside for Jeremy,” I say, turning around to walk out the room. I’m going to kill Jeremy for being late. What could be keeping him?

  “Look, Jayd, I don’t mean to pry,” she says, holding a red ink pen in her left hand and tapping the papers with her right, “but, it’s come to my attention that you may be involved in a relationship with Jeremy. Is this true?” she asks.

  I turn to face her again. “None of your business,” I say, trying to restrain myself from cussing her out.

  “Look, Jayd. You and I both live in the real world, right?” she asks, trying to get me to agree with her, but I know it’s a trap. This is how she lures in her victims during class. Then, she goes for the kill. “Jeremy is a great guy. Have you ever wondered why he would want to be with someone like you when he could have any girl in the entire school?” she asks, cool as a cucumber.

  “What the hell did you just say to me?” I snap, ready to drop these cupcakes and slap the mess out of her. I can’t wait to tell Ms. Toni what this broad just said to me.

  “Oh, Jayd, please calm down the ghetto attitude. It’s so unbecoming of a young lady,” she says, picking up one of the papers and reading the title page.

  “Seriously, Jayd,” she says, looking over her glass rims at me. I want to walk out the door, but I’m glued to my spot. “What does he see in you? Your friend Mickey’s the cutest of all of you here.” She turns around and reaches behind her, seizing the coffee-stained mug sitting on top of the bookshelf behind her desk. She then reaches over to the coffeepot and pours herself a cup. I hope she drops it and burns herself. I’m seething now.

  “Who is the you?” I ask, already knowing she means out of all the Black girls.

  “You know who I mean.” She takes a sip of her black coffee and continues, “All I’m saying is don’t be stupid. He’s just dating you because he’s curious, Jayd, that’s all. I wish our boys weren’t so tempted by your kind. But, it seems to happen every year with him.”