Courtin' Jayd (3 page)

“Who you calling a bitch?” KJ says, stepping out of Jeremy's face and into Nigel's. Even if Nigel stands a few inches shorter, KJ doesn't want to mess with him. Nigel was recruited to sack players for South Bay and he'd be glad to do it right here on the basketball court, if need be.

“Is everything alright over here?” Mr. Adewale says, catching us all off-guard. Me and my girls are mesmerized by the scene, waiting to see who will throw the first blow. And Chance, Nigel, and Jeremy all look ready for a fight.

“Yeah man, everything's cool,” Nigel says, being the first to back down. “This game isn't over.”

“Anytime, any place baby. You call it and I'll be there,” KJ says as he and his team retreat toward the locker room. “It's going to be my court no matter where we play.”

“We'll see about that,” Nigel says, passing the ball to Mr. Adewale as he comes to give Mickey a kiss before heading back to the weight room. I hope he works off some of that frustration before he hurts someone.

“Jayd, you want a ride? From the looks of it, it's about to storm,” Mickey says, suddenly in a generous mood. There must be some magic in Nigel's lips because my girl's mood has completely changed.

“Yeah, thanks. Chance, are you okay?” I say, noticing the black scuffmarks across his new kicks and I know how sensitive dudes can be about their shoes.

“Yeah, I'm cool. Jeremy, you should've kicked his ass when you had the chance, man.”

“That's not the way to handle it, trust me,” Mr. Adewale says, dribbling the ball and shooting some practice hoops. I see he's got game, too. “But, you should have a ref around next time, just in case.”

“You're right, man. Next time,” Jeremy says, responding to Mr. Adewale but looking at me. I think we should hit the road before I get into some trouble of my own.

“I have to get going,” I say, signaling my girls to get up. “Good game. I'm impressed with both of you.”

“Why thank you, Lady J,” Jeremy says as Chance takes Nellie by the hand, escorting her down the bleachers. “You ladies want to grab something to eat?”

“Oh, I can't. I've got a ton of work to do.” I wish I could hang out more after school like other students do, but Mama would have my ass in a sling if I didn't stick to my regular schedule. “But how about tomorrow? It's an early day.”

“Tomorrow it is,” Jeremy says, helping me down too. I forgot how much of a gentleman he can be.

“And thanks for being our cheerleaders,” Chance says, kissing Nellie's hand as Mickey leads the way out of the gym. I think she's had enough of us and our white boys for one day.

By the time we get to the parking lot, it's raining heavily and most of the cars are gone.

“Mickey, do you have my sweater in the car?” Nellie asks, getting in the back since I'll be dropped off first.

“No, I left it at home. I'll get it to you tomorrow,” Mickey says, starting the car as Keisha Cole and Missy Elliot blare out of her speakers, making the trunk shake.

“No, Mickey. I need it now. I have my outfit picked out for tomorrow and it includes my red Bebe sweater. You'll have to take me to your house to get it.”

“Ah, hell no. I've got to get home,” I say, emphatic about not going to the other side of Compton today. I'm not in the mood for seeing Mickey's family, her man included. “Besides, that's out of her way to go all the way to her house and then back to mine.”

“Not if she takes the 105. And besides, you were supposed to give me back that sweater weeks ago. I'm not getting out of this car until I have it in my hand.” Nellie can be more demanding than Mickey sometimes. It's a wonder they're friends at all.

“Fine. I'll give you your damned sweater,” Mickey says, barely catching the on-ramp to the 105 East from the 110. I don't feel good about this detour at all. I knew I should've taken the bus home, even if it meant getting a little wet. It's better than dealing with Mickey's side of town any day.

A
s we approach the Long Beach Boulevard exit, my stomach tightens up and I get the feeling that something's up. It could be paranoia, but I know better. Every time I come to Mickey's house, some shit goes down. If her mama and daddy ain't at each other's throats, then her brothers and sister are tripping. Not to mention that her man is usually in close proximity, which is always a negative experience for me.

“I hate coming to your side of town,” Nellie says, expressing my sentiments exactly. “Why couldn't you just bring my sweater to school when I first asked you to?”

“Because I forgot. What's the big deal? You only live five minutes away from here,” Mickey says. “And Jayd, doesn't your daddy live over here somewhere?” Mickey intones, recalling my first visit to her crib where I mentioned I was familiar with her hood. Most of my friends from my old school, Family Christian, live out this way, including Rah's grandparents.

“Yeah, he lives by the old Lynwood High.” Even though my dad lives directly behind the Compton Swap Meet, his side of town is considered Lynwood and he's very proud of not actually living in the city of Compton, just like Nellie.

“Want to stop by and give him a shout-out?” Mickey says, making light of the fact me and my dad barely speak. I haven't seen him since we went to a family picnic together a couple of months ago. He called and left a message afterwards but I never did return his call. I'll make sure to give him a call tomorrow. Even if I can't stand the man, he's still my father and my elder, which means I have to respect him, or so he says to me all the time.

“We don't have time for family visits or any other kinds of stops. I need to get home and touch up my hair,” Nellie says, tucking a wayward strand behind her ear before silencing her ringing cell.

“Nellie, you act like you live in another county,” Mickey says pulling into her driveway where her family's outside kicking it. “You live right up the street from me, same area code and all.”

“Yeah, but you live in Compton and I live in Rosewood. Very different energies between the two places,” she says, sounding as bougie as ever. I knew Nellie's foul experience with Tania and her crew wouldn't have a permanent effect on the diva in our girl.

“Yeah, whatever. Tell that to the brothas who've pledged their lives to the streets of Compton, right on your block,” says Mickey, and she would know. Her younger brothers and her man are in that category. And speaking of which, her man pulls up right behind Mickey's car, blocking us in. This trip isn't going to be as quick as I anticipated.

“Ah damn,” Mickey says, turning off the engine and opening the car door. “I was supposed to call him after school and forgot.” She didn't forget as much as she was distracted by her other man ballin'. Mickey better tighten her game or she's going to be in more trouble than she can handle.

“How long are you going to keep this juggling act going, Mickey? You know you're playing with fire,” I say. I don't mean to sound like her mama, but damn. I'm being put in an uncomfortable situation no matter how it goes and personally, I'm sick of it.

“I know you're not talking,” Mickey says, looking at me through the rearview mirror before getting out. And she's right. I'm slightly torn between Jeremy and Rah still. But at least I'm not playing anyone. The way she's working the game, it can only end up bad for everyone involved.

“Mickey, where you been? I told you to call me when you got out of class,” her man says, getting out of his car without even turning it off. Mickey's man is hotter than hot and that ain't good. Nellie and I watch it all go down as her family members ignore the dramatic scene. I guess this happens on a daily basis around here. Mickey's man takes a large step toward her and snatches her by the arm, making her drop the new cell phone in her hand. I wonder if he knows it was a gift from Nigel.

“Damn boo, chill,” she says, pulling away from him and going for her phone on the ground. But it's no use. He grabs her arm again, this time tighter, and pulls her in closer so she can't get away.

“Who you messing with, Mickey, huh?” he says, smelling her hair like a dog. What the hell? If a dude ever tried that shit with me, his days would be numbered. “What's his name?”

“Damn, nigga, calm down. It ain't even like that,” Mickey says, trying to save face. How she keeps her lies straight I'll never know. “We just got here and I have to run inside and get something for Nellie before I take my girls home.” He looks inside the car and sees Nellie and me looking dead at him. I wish I had Esmeralda's eyes right about now. I'd like to give him a headache from hell like only she can.

“Whatever, Mickey. I know you been screwing somebody else and I'm going to find out who it is, one way or another. Get your ass in the house and get whatever it is you need to get. We'll take your girls home together,” he says, pushing her toward the front door. He sounds more like her daddy than her man. But I guess since her dad's too busy working two jobs to support his extra-large family, her man's the only regular father figure she's got.

“I don't want to ride in the car with him,” Nellie says, looking at me with a panicked expression. “And I don't want him knowing where I live. What do we do?” she says, turning around in her seat and digging in her purse for her phone again.

“I don't know what you're going to do, but I'm taking the bus home like I should've done in the first place,” I say, taking my bus pass out of my purse and putting it in my jacket pocket. “Now, let me out so I can get my stroll on.”

“Jayd, are you serious? You're going to walk around here by yourself and in that red top? Are you crazy?”

“We're in blood territory,” I say, zipping up my jacket so as not to attract too much attention to myself. The last thing I need is more drama in my life. “Besides, no one's going to mess with me anyway.” Between my notorious grandmother and my infamous uncles, everyone in this city knows my family's not to be messed with. The only people that don't care are my neighborhood haters, but that's because of their loyalty to Misty's trifling behind. Otherwise, they wouldn't bother me either.

“Jayd, in all good conscience, I can't let you out of this car,” Nellie says, sitting back firmly in her seat so I can't fold it forward, no matter how hard I push. “You'll be safer with us.”

“I'll see you at school tomorrow Nellie,” I say, sliding to the driver's side and pushing my way out of the car. Mickey's man comes over to watch me struggle out of the backseat of the classic vehicle. I feel like a little kid trying to climb out of a car seat. My clothes are completely wrinkled and my heavy backpack almost causes me to tumble over, but I catch myself before that happens.

“Going somewhere?” he says with his arms crossed tightly over his chest like an evil genie. He might be able to make Mickey's wishes come true, but I'm not impressed.

“Yeah, home. And before you ask, no I don't need an escort,” I say, closing the door behind me and walking back down the short driveway. Mickey's siblings glance my direction and continue what they're doing. Thank goodness the rain stopped or my bus ride home would be even more inconvenient.

“Are you sure you don't want a ride? There's more than enough room for you,” he says, licking his lips and giving me a devious smile. I know this fool isn't trying to hit on me with his girlfriend in the house a few feet away. What does Mickey see in him? Yeah, he's tall and he looks okay. But as far as personality goes, he's one of the most unattractive men I've ever seen.

“I got your sweater, girl. Let's go,” Mickey says, rushing out of her house and down the porch steps. “What's going on here?” Mickey asks, making her way to the car before I'm completely off her property.

“I'm going home. I'll see you in the morning,” I say, not waiting for her response. I'm done with this tired scene, for real. If I never see her man again, it'll be too soon. I feel bad for leaving Nellie alone in their madness but it's her choice. It's not my fault she's too prissy to take the bus.

After walking back to Long Beach Boulevard, I catch the bus to Wilmington and Alondra, which will drop me in front of my regular bus stop by Miracle Market. I settle at the bus stop and call Rah, who—for the second time this afternoon—doesn't answer. What's really going on? I thought we agreed after the last time I didn't return his calls for a few days that we wouldn't put each other through that again. I'm trying to give him the benefit of the doubt, but he sure is making it difficult. I might as well give my dad a call now while I'm thinking about it.

I locate my dad's number in my contact list and press send on my worn-out cell. The last thing I want to do is have a long conversation with him, which usually ends in an argument. I'm going to make this as brief as possible.

“Hello there, youngin',” my dad says, sounding as country as ever. The sound of his voice alone gives me shivers.

“Hey Daddy. I'm just checking in. How are you?” I ask. The bus is down the street and approaching my stop, giving me the perfect reason to cut short our conversation if need be.

“I'm fine, girl. How are you?” He usually sounds happy to hear from me but he feels the same way about chatting with me as I do: less is definitely more.

“I'm fine. Waiting at the bus stop. How's the family?” His side is more like a clan that I'm not a part of, but I'm trying to be sweet like Mama taught me.

“Your stepmama and brother and sister are fine, but you'd know that if you came by more often,” he says. What am I supposed to do—fly to his house? He knows I'm dependent on others for a ride and my mom damn sure ain't taking me over there. When she left him before I was born, she swore she'd never step foot in that house again and she hasn't broken her word yet.

“I would come over more often if I had a way there,” I say, but we both know that's a lie. I could think of a million other places to go before stopping in his hood. It's enough that I have to attend his family functions. But voluntarily spending time with him isn't an option.

“Well, you never did get back to me about your driving lessons. I already told you I'd pay for them,” he says. I can tell from his tone he's salty about me stalling. I'd rather earn the money and pay for them myself than take the offer from him, which will inevitably have a price of its own.

“Right,” I say as the bus pulls up. “I've been pretty busy and I'm looking for a new job,” I say without telling him I no longer have my job at Simply Wholesome. I don't want to hear his mouth about that one. “But anytime you set it up should be good.”

“A new job? What's wrong with the one you have?” he asks, fishing for more information. I've been working since I was ten years old because of his refusal to pay child support properly—he doesn't have the right to question me about my money.

“I need more money.” And a better schedule and independence, but he doesn't need to know all that.

“Well, I can respect that,” he says. People are lining up to get on the bus and I hate to talk on the phone while I'm riding. “I'll give them a call and let you know when it starts. Should they pick you up from school or your grandmother's house?”

“School would be better for me. My bus is here so I've got to go,” I say, rising from my seat and joining the long line of passengers. Some dude is putting a bike on the front of the bus, and that always takes a long time.

“All right then, Jayd. I'll talk to you later. Before you know it, you'll be driving and you won't have to wait at the bus stop anymore.” From his lips to God's ears.

“Does that mean you're going to help me buy a car?” I ask, sounding hopeful even though I should know better. My daddy offering to help is a miracle all by itself. I really shouldn't push it.

“I'll pay for the lessons. You and your mother will have to work out the rest,” he says, deflating my bubble before it gets full. Why do I even bother?

“What's the point of having a license if I have nothing to drive? And, how is my mom supposed to help me when she barely makes enough for us to live on?” Or did he forget he left her with nothing and pays no alimony?

“I'm sure some of her men will help out,” he says. My dad is always salty about my mom's independence. Honestly, I can't see how they ever got together. They're so different and he's a control freak to the max. But rather then sass him, I hold my tongue and rush him off the phone.

“Dad, I'm losing my signal,” I say, walking up the steps to show the driver my pass. She glances at it and shakes her head at me for being on the phone, pointing to the multiple signs that say “No cell use.” She doesn't have to tell me twice.

“Be safe and I'll talk to you later,” he says before hanging up the phone. I wonder if he treats my sister the same way he treats me. I also wonder how his new wife tolerates his behavior. Maybe she doesn't mind and, I admit, he does have his good points, but he rarely lets me see them.

When I get home, I'll start on my homework for the week and do a little studying in the spirit book if I have time. I never did find the tea my mother listed in her notebook to stop Esmeralda nor did I make the gris-gris for Rah to keep the broads away from him. I want to ask her about the tea this weekend when I see her and talk to her and Mama about my dad paying for my driving lessons. If anything gets both of their heads hot, it's the subject of my father. I'll wait until I'm at Netta's shop tomorrow to break the news to Mama. At least there I'll have some backup, in case Mama explodes.