Spin it Like That (9 page)

M
y heart dropped when I saw a police car sitting in front of my house. I seriously thought about having Triple T drive past my house and never coming back, but I knew that wasn't cool.

“You want me to come in?” he asked.

“Nah, it's okay,” I said, hoping my voice didn't sound as shaky as it seemed to me.

“You sure?” he said, eyeing the police car.

I gave a hoarse laugh. “Boy, quit tripping. It's fine,” I said.

He sighed and shook his head. “I'll call you later to check on you,” he said.

I smiled and nodded.

When I walked through the door, my daddy was sitting slumped over in a chair, tears pouring down his face as though he had lost his best friend.

Derrick was the first one to spot me, and there was relief even on his face. “Thank God,” he said, running over to me, but Mama got there first. She gathered me in her arms and stroked my hair.

“I was so worried,” she said, stepping back so she could look at me. “Are you okay?”

I nodded, too stunned at how they were all reacting to speak.

“Where have you been?” Daddy asked, stepping forward to hug me.

I opened my mouth, but before I could say anything, Mama wrinkled her nose and frowned. “What is that smell?” she asked.

I looked around, trying to figure out what she was talking about.

She stepped toward me, grabbed a handful of my shirt and sniffed. “Have you been smoking weed?” she asked.

Before I could respond, she hauled off and slapped me so hard I thought she had knocked out a few of my teeth. I grabbed my stinging jaw and looked at her through watery eyes, wanting nothing more than to slap her back, but I wasn't that grown—or that stupid.

“We've been up all night worried sick about you and you come in here smelling like weed?” she asked, incredulous.

“But I can explain,” I finally managed to say.

“It better be a good reason,” Mama said, and if I hadn't already known I was in serious trouble, her tone proved it.

“I met this producer the other night, and he invited me to go to the studio with him yesterday,” I said, getting excited at the memory despite my mother's anger. “There were some Billboard artists there, and they let me record with them. I'm going to have a song on the radio in a few weeks.”

I glanced over at Daddy, and he looked excited, but he tried to play it off. Derrick looked happy, too, so, knowing I had them both on my side, I turned to Mama.

“I was vibing so hard with the music I didn't realize how late it was,” I said. “Mama, I'm so sorry. I promise you it will never happen again.”

Mama just laughed and shook her head. “I've been up all night wondering if you were lying on the side of the road hurt or even dead, and you tell me that you've been in a studio all night recording some song? Then you come strolling in here at seven o'clock in the morning and all you have to say is I'm sorry, it won't happen again?”

“But Mama, I'm going to have a song on the radio, and I'm going to get paid for it,” I said.

“And I'm supposed to be impressed by that?” she asked.

I turned to Daddy. “Daddy, I promise it won't happen again,” I said.

Daddy turned to Mama. “Baby, can't we cut her some slack this time?” he said. “She made a mistake. It won't happen again.”

“You're right. It won't happen again,” she agreed. She turned and looked at me. “Give me your car keys.”

“What?” I exclaimed.

“Did I stutter?” she asked. “Give me your car keys.”

“No,” I said, taking a step back.

“No?” she repeated as though she hadn't heard me.

“No,” I said again with attitude. “I paid for that car with my own money, and you can't take it from me.”

“I don't care if you paid for it with blood, little girl. You don't run my house. Hand over the keys—now.”

“No,” I repeated.

“If you are living in my house, you will play by my rules,” she said, getting up in my face.

“Then I just won't live in your house,” I said, thinking about the money I had saved. “I'll get my own place.”

I didn't even wait for her to respond. I went to my room and started packing my stuff up while Daddy and Derrick pleaded with me to stop. As I went back and forth to my car, stuffing it with everything I could, Mama calmly sat on the sofa flipping through the television channels. I kept waiting for her to try and stop me, but she never said a word.

When I realized I couldn't fit anything else in my car, I turned to Daddy and said, “I'll be back to get the rest of my things.”

He pulled me outside. “Baby, what are you doing?” he asked. “Your mama's just mad right now. Give her a couple of hours to cool off.”

“It's okay, Daddy. This has been coming for a long time,” I said. “She's never supported my music.”

I gave him a big hug and smiled to reassure him that I was going to be fine; then I looked at my brother, who seemed as though he was in shock trying to take everything in. “I'll call you,” I said.

He just nodded.

I got in my car and drove away, watching my rearview mirror the entire time as I waited for Mama to come running after me.

The truth was I had no idea where I was going.

All kids think about running away at one time or another, but the reality was quite different than anything I'd ever dreamed. Since I was only sixteen, no one wanted to rent to me, so I ended up crashing at Loretta's. Her mother didn't have a problem charging me five hundred dollars a month to sleep on the living room sofa, but it was cool since I knew she was never home, so Loretta and I were able to come and go as we pleased.

I had been there a few days when Loretta woke me up early one morning.

“You ready?” she asked.

“Ready for what?” I said, picking up my watch to see what time it was.

“To take me to the hospital,” she said, sounding excited.

“Hospital?” I said, not having a clue what she was talking about.

“Remember I asked you last week about picking me up after my breast surgery?” she said.

“Oh, yeah,” I said, recalling the conversation.

“I figured since you're here, you might as well drive me there, too,” she said.

“You're really going through with that?” I said.

“Yeah,” she said, looking annoyed that I had even asked the question. “Hurry up and get dressed so we can go.”

I had never seen Loretta look so determined. I sighed and pushed the covers off so I could get ready.

It didn't take me long to shower and throw on some clothes. As we drove into Manhattan—something Mama didn't like me to do—Loretta talked the entire way about all the gigs she was going to get thanks to her new breasts. It was still early, so there wasn't much traffic, which was a good thing. Loretta was about to drive me crazy.

Once we got to the hospital, Loretta signed in, and her name was called a few minutes later. She turned to me and smiled. “Say goodbye to my two little friends,” she joked.

I just shook my head, still surprised that she was going through with this. “Good luck,” I said.

She smiled and waved, and then she was gone.

I tried watching TV for a while, but it wasn't holding my attention, so I finally got up to go get something to eat.

When my phone rang, I thought it was Triple T or Derrick, who both called me every morning, but I didn't recognize the number on my caller ID.

“Hello,” I said.

“This Jazzy J?” a voice asked.

“Yeah,” I said. “Who's this?”

“My name's Jeremy. I got your number from Loretta. She said you deejay parties.”

“Yeah,” I said.

“I'm doing this little set for my twenty-first birthday, and I wanna hire you. How much you charge?”

Since I had started working with DC, I figured I could get away with charging more.

“How long do you want me to play?” I asked.

“My party's gon' last the whole weekend,” he said, “and I want you here the entire time.”

I laughed under my breath because I knew if he agreed to my rate I was about to get paid. “It'll be five grand,” I said.

“Cool,” he said.

“I need half of that up front,” I said.

“Not a problem.”

“When is the party?”

He gave me the dates, and I realized it was a couple of weeks after the All-City competition.

“So where you want me to send the money?” he asked.

I gave him Loretta's address, and he said he'd drop a check in the mail that day.

Pain was etched on Loretta's face when she was wheeled out of the recovery room. I glanced at her chest, and her breasts looked huge—three times as big as the 38D she wore before.

“You okay?” I asked.

She nodded weakly.

“Come on. Let's get you home,” I said. I went to get the car and loaded Loretta inside.

“I didn't think it would hurt,” she said quietly when we were halfway to Queens.

“It'll get better,” I said, trying to comfort her.

She just stared out the window.

By the time I got Loretta settled, I was exhausted. I fell asleep still dressed, and when I woke up, there was so much sleep crusting my eyes that I couldn't open them. After washing my face, I went to check on Loretta.

She was sitting up in bed, flipping through a magazine.

“Hey, girl,” I said. “How are you feeling?”

“A little better,” she said with a small smile.

“Good,” I said. “Do you need anything?”

She shook her head and winced. “No, thank you,” she said.

“Have you eaten?” I asked.

“I'm not really hungry,” she said.

“You've gotta eat something,” I said.

I went to the kitchen and made some bacon and eggs along with some toast, then fixed two plates and two glasses of orange juice and carried them on a tray back to Loretta's room.

We were in the middle of eating when I heard my cell phone ringing. I hurried to the living room and rooted around in the sofa trying to find it before it went to voice mail. I didn't get it in time, so I checked my voice mail and was surprised to find I had several messages—two from Triple T, one from my brother and another from Kyle.

I didn't bother listening to my brother's or Kyle's messages, but I played Triple T's a few times.

“Hey, Jasmine. It's T,” the first one began. “I just wanted you to know I was thinking about you. I hope you're having a great day.”

I smiled as I saved the message, then hit the button to play the next one.

“Jas, it's T again. If you don't have plans tomorrow, I thought you might want to hang out. Give me a call.”

A grin exploded across my face. I thought about calling him back, but I wanted to play it cool so he wouldn't know how much I was really feeling him.

I called my brother instead.

“Hey,” he said when he realized it was me. “I just wanted to check on you.”

“I'm okay,” I said. “What's going on with you?”

“Nothing. Just working,” he said. “What are you doing today?”

“Probably just hanging out with a friend,” I said, another smile coming to my face.

“What friend?” Derrick asked suspiciously.

“His name's Nonya,” I said.

“Nonya?” he repeated. “What kind of name is that?”

“Nonya business,” I said, and burst out laughing.

It took him a second to catch my joke, but then I heard him chuckling. “That is so corny and old,” he said.

“But you fell for it,” I replied.

“Do you want to hang out after I get off work?” he asked.

“Yeah, that'll be cool,” I said. “We need to practice for All-City. The competition's only a month away.” I had finally convinced him a few days earlier to perform with me one final time.

“Are you coming over to the house?” he asked hopefully.

I shook my head and frowned; then I remembered he couldn't see me. “I'll pass,” I said.

I hadn't been back to the house nor had I spoken to Mama since I left, and I really had no intention of doing either one.

“You know, Mama really misses you,” Derrick said quietly. “I do, too.”

I ignored his last statement. “Mama knows where to find me if she wants to get in touch with me,” I said with an attitude.