Diamonds and Pearl (6 page)

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Pearl sat in the back of her global studies class, trying her best to stay awake. Her eyelids felt like they had sandbags tied to them, and it was a struggle to keep them open. Devonte had kept her awake half the night, plowing into her like he was trying to use his dick to dig his way to China. He wasn't the most savory fella she'd ever met, but he fucked like a rock star and could reach places inside her that Pearl had only recently discovered existed. She had always enjoyed her escapades with Devonte until recently. Over the last couple of weeks had had started to become clingy, and the stunt he'd pulled with the condom confirmed what she had already been thinking: it was time to put some space between them. Being the baby mama of a drug dealer was not something she saw in her future. Pearl had bigger plans for her life.

At the front of the class her teacher, Mr. Gaines, continued to talk. He was going on and on about the trouble down South as a result of the hurricane and the government's mishandling of the aftermath. The storm and the havoc it wreaked were more than three years old by then, but Mr. Gaines continued to speak about the events as if they had just happened. He was new to New York, originally from Baton Rouge. When Katrina had hit, he'd gotten to witness her fury firsthand. When he spoke about the people and things that he'd lost, it was in a tone so passionate that there wasn't a dry eye in the room, except Pearl's. Her mind was elsewhere.

To Pearl, school was a necessary evil that she endured for the sole purpose of appeasing her father. Pearl was by no means a bad student. In fact, she was in the top tenth percentile of her school and had made the honor roll every year since the seventh grade. She was good in school, just not very motivated by it. Other than math and reading, you never used the things you learned, so she figured if she just focused on those two areas, the rest would be a breeze. Pearl had learned to add, subtract, and multiply before she got to kindergarten, and those were the only life skills she would ever need as far as she was concerned. The only reason she was so hell-bent on graduating was because her dad had promised to buy her a Mercedes. Daddy always knew how to motivate her.

Her father was somewhat of a local celebrity, which made Pearl famous in her own right. Wherever she went, people treated her with respect. That was one of the perks of being the daughter of one of the most feared men in the city. Having a father who was a boss is what often got Pearl noticed, but it was her beauty that kept all eyes on her. She stood at a statuesque five nine with a body that curved in all the right places. In addition to being physically beautiful, she exuded a confidence that you couldn't help but notice when she walked into a room. With money, looks, and charisma … Pearl had it all but still wanted more.

The bell finally rang, signaling the end of the class and the beginning of
social hour,
as she liked to call it. It was lunch, which meant it was time to meet up with her girls. They mostly congregated in the lunch room, where they played cards and exchanged gossip, but every so often they would sneak off school grounds and walk the five blocks to the pizza shop near Bowman High. Bowman was an alternative school that catered mostly to teenage parents and knuckleheads who'd gotten booted from other schools and were on their last chances. But there were also students who were victims of various circumstances that wouldn't allow them to attended regular high schools, and they were determined to finish their educations. Most of the girls at St. Francis shied away from the hard-nosed guys at Bowman, but Pearl and her crew embraced them. They loved dancing on the razor's edge.

When Pearl stepped out of Mr. Gaines's class, she was met by her friend Marisa. Marisa was a Cuban girl with rich chocolate skin, pink lips, and thick black hair that she sometimes wore in a puffy Afro. At first glance most people assumed Marisa was Black, but when she got to rattling off in Spanish, her true colors came out. She was pretty fly and down for whatever, same as Pearl. The two of them were as thick as thieves.

“What's popping, mommy?” Marisa greeted Pearl with a high-five.

“Chilling, glad to finally be outta that boring class. Who gives a fuck what's going on in Louisiana when we live all the way up in New York? That shit ain't got nothing to do with us,” Pearl said, dismissing the tragedy.

Marisa shook her head. “It would be a coldhearted bitch to say something like that. You know a lot of people lost their lives and their homes in that storm. New Orleans looks like a disaster area, and to make things worse, Uncle Sam is taking his sweet fucking time in trying to help them clean it up. It's been almost three years since it happened, and I hear that families are still displaced. That's no joke, Pearl.”

“You're right—it's not funny. It's fucked up, but that doesn't mean I wanna listen to Mr. Gaines talk about it for forty-five minutes.”

“If you're that sour on it, why don't you just ditch the stupid class?” Marisa asked.

Pearl gave her a serious look. “And have my father break my neck when the school calls about me cutting?”

“Stop acting like that. It's the last day of school before spring break. I don't think anybody will even notice if we cut out early.”

“Big Stone would know,” she assured her. Her father seemed to have a crystal ball that gave him a glimpse at anything and everything that went on with his family.

The two girls headed down the hall together, exchanging gossip and ignoring the envious glances they were getting from some of the other girls as they passed. Marisa wasn't on anyone's Christmas list, but most of the shade was directed toward Pearl. The girls who attended St. Francis either hated Pearl and her crew or wanted to be down with them. Either way, they were usually the topic of conversation.

About halfway to the lunch room, they were joined by Ruby. She was the oddball of their crew. Ruby was a short, plump Jewish girl with fiery red hair and a pointed nose. She was kind of on the weird side, but nobody fucked with her because she was Pearl's friend. For a white girl, Ruby had a lot of soul and was cool people. She also served as the minister of information for their gang. There wasn't much that went on at St. Francis that Ruby didn't get the scoop on first. From the mischievous look on her face, Pearl knew she had something juicy to spill.

“What's the word?” Marisa asked, beating Pearl to the punch.

“Girls, let me tell y'all…,” Ruby began in her heavy New York accent. “I just heard from Carla, who heard from Jane, that Kate is talking shit about you,” she told Pearl.

Pearl rolled her eyes. “What else is new? These bitches hate me cuz they ain't me!”

“They don't wanna see us!” Marisa cosigned.

“I know they ain't trying to do nothing. All mouth and no action, but you know I had to tell my girl what's up,” Ruby said.

“And that's why I fucks with you.” Pearl gave her dap. Pearl knew that Kate was all bark and no bite, and could've let it go, but she was feeling petty that day. “Still, these broads need to recognize who the
real
queen is. Let's go down to the lunch room and see what's good,” Pearl suggested.

“Pearl, don't go down there starting no shit with that girl. Remember what Father Price said after the last incident you were involved in,” Marisa reminded Pearl, referring to the small riot she'd almost caused in the auditorium.

“Marisa, I ain't stupid enough to get into a fight with my birthday coming,” Pearl assured her.

“Somebody is about to turn the big one-eight.” Marisa smiled broadly.

“Eighteen and finally grown.” Pearl rested her fists on her hips.

“So, what's up? I haven't heard any talk of a party yet. Aren't you gonna have one this year? You know your dad throws you the best parties,” Marisa said.

“Oddly, he hasn't mentioned a party to me, which leads me to believe he's planning some type of surprise,” Pearl speculated. Every year since she could remember, her dad always threw her an epic birthday party, but that year the subject hadn't come up, which was odd.

“I sure hope so, because I know it's going to be popping!” Marisa exclaimed. “If it goes down, you know I'm in there. How about you, Ruby?”

“I wish. My grades weren't so good last marking period, so they've been extra-strict on me. Besides, you know my mom and dad think everyone darker than a paper bag is trouble.” Ruby said it as a joke but couldn't mask the hint of embarrassment in her voice.

“You'd think that after all these years, she'd be cool with you hanging out with the Blacks and Hispanics. I guess some people just can't get with jungle fever,” Marisa joked.

Ruby rolled her eyes. “Judith gets on my nerves sometimes with her old-world mentality,” she said, referring to her mother. “And don't even get me started on my father and his constant ranting about how a proper Jewish girl is supposed to behave.”

“That's just code for ‘Stop fucking Black guys.'” Pearl snickered.

“Well, she can forget that. You know how I love my chocolate,” Ruby joked. She was making light of the whole thing, but it was only to hide her embarrassment over her parents' views. Ruby's parents were older, having had her late in their lives. They were Russian immigrants who had only come to the States shortly before Ruby was born, so they were behind the curve on a lot of things. They weren't necessarily racists, but felt strongly about intermingling the gene pool.

“Don't worry about it, ma. If it does happen and you can't make it, you know you'll be there with us in spirit,” Pearl said, trying to make her feel better.

“Spirit my ass. Pearl, you've known me long enough to know that what my parents expect and what I do are two different things. I'll just wait until they go to sleep and sneak out. I'll probably be grounded until I leave for college, but for one of your parties, it'd be worth it.” Ruby laughed.

 

CHAPTER SIX

St. Francis had two lunch rooms, the North and South. The North Side was supposed to be for the juniors and seniors while the South was designated for freshmen and sophomores, but what it really translated to was that the North was for the cool kids, and the South was for everyone else. One of the advantages of hanging in the North lunch room was that it had an exit in the back that opened up into the faculty parking lot—and freedom. If you had enough juice with security, you could slip on and off school grounds without worrying about being written up.

There were always two guards at that back door during lunch periods, Jones and Melrose. Melrose was an ugly, heavyweight wrestler–looking muthafucka who looked like he had been carved from a block of onyx. Jones was much easier on the eyes, short with wide hips and nice tits, with hair that was so rich and thick that it made her the envy of some women. Judging by looks, you'd have thought Melrose was the more vicious of the two, but it was Jones you had to watch out for. Unlike some of the staff, she treated all the girls in the school with equal respect, no matter what class of financial standing. All she asked in return was that you showed her the same. The smart ones did, but the ones who foolishly tested the waters learned the hard way that Security Officer Jones wasn't to be fucked with. She had been written up on multiple occasions for laying hands on students. The only reason she hadn't been fired is because her mother worked for the school superintendent. To her credit, Jones never whipped an ass in the school that didn't deserve it.

“Little Stone, what the deal?” Melrose gave Pearl dap when she and her crew strolled into the North cafeteria.

“Little Stone is my brother; I'm just Pearl,” she corrected him.

“My bad, my bad,” Melrose said apologetically. “How's Stoney doing anyhow? He managing to stay out of trouble?”

“Hell no.” Pearl rolled her eyes at the thought of her troublesome little brother. “He got written up in school again the other day for fighting.”

“A chip off the old block.” Jones laughed.

“Only blocks he's gonna know are cellblocks if he doesn't slow his ass down,” Pearl said.

“You'd think for as strict as Big Stone is, that boy wouldn't be so wild,” Marisa chimed in.

“My father is only strict when it comes to me. He lets Stoney run wild.”

“Speaking of Big Stone, how is he?” Melrose asked. He'd worked for Pearl's dad back in the day, and had even taken a drug charge for the crew. The whole three and a half years he'd sat in prison, he never once mentioned Big Stone or the organization. When he touched down, Stone blessed Melrose with a few dollars and plugged him in with the board of ed so he landed the security job.

“He's good.”

“Tell him, Joey said what's up.”

“I got you, Melrose,” Pearl promised before leading her crew deeper into the cafeteria.

Pearl's whole demeanor seemed to change when they entered the lunch room proper. The smile faded from her face, and her eyes got hard and serious. She had slipped into what Ruby called
boss mode
. She strolled casually, her crew in tow, nodding and shaking hands with girls who'd break their necks to speak to her. Pearl was like a local celebrity, partially because of who her father was, but mostly because her name carried weight with staff and students alike. Her status gave her access to things most people couldn't get within the walls of St. Francis, such as contraband. That was her side hustle. If you needed something, be it pot, school supplies, or treats they didn't sell on school grounds, you went to see Pearl.

It took them nearly ten minutes to make it to what they dubbed as their section of the lunch room. It consisted of a long table near the back entrance that was always on reserve for Pearl and her team. This was where they ate, played cards, and brokered deals. It was an unspoken rule that you didn't sit there if you weren't part of that circle … a rule that if you broke, Pearl or one of her minions would make sure you didn't break again. Standing around, waiting for them, were several underclassmen who Pearl liked to refer to as
stragglers
. They were her foot soldiers, girls who were vying for membership to her inner circle. Most of them would never make it, but a few showed promise.