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Tameka

As
we stepped inside the hotel's air-conditioned lobby, I was grateful that we were finally there. I was tired of being cramped up in the back of Calvin's father's SUV and couldn't wait to get out and stretch. Indigo, Jade, Tymia, Asia, Alyssa and I had scraped up enough cash for two rooms with double beds. With a couple of rollaway beds pulled into the room, we could all sleep comfortably for a few nights.

I lingered near the hotel's restaurant just to take in the smells. The McDonald's quarter pounder with cheese that I'd scarfed down somewhere between Birmingham and Tuscaloosa, Alabama, had worn off long ago and I was hungry again. I wanted something other than fast food. I wanted a hot meal—maybe a sirloin steak or something smothered in gravy. After checking into our room, I pulled Indi over to the restaurant so that we could check out the menu, see if they had something that would satisfy my cravings.

“May I help you?” The skinny, blonde hostess asked.

“Um, we just wanna see a menu…see what y'all got to eat,” I said.

“There's a McDonald's less than a mile down the block.”
She smiled a fake little smile. “Are you sure you don't want to eat there?”

“We don't want no McDonald's, boo. We would like to eat here,” I insisted.

“Oh, well let me get you a menu.” She disappeared across the room.

I turned to Indigo. “Ooh, let me go get y'all a menu. She should've just done that in the first place! Didn't nobody ask her about no McDonald's down the street. If we wanted McDonald's, we would've stopped at McDonald's before we got here.”

“Calm down, Mama.” Indigo pressed her hand against my stomach. “Let's get this baby fed before you snap out on the woman.”

“She must got me mixed up!” I said and glanced around at all the faces inside the restaurant.

People were dressed in sports jackets, polo shirts and dresses, while I sported Vance's Carver High School basketball jersey, with his name plastered across the back, and a pair of denim maternity shorts. When the hostess returned with the menu, it took all of my strength not to snatch it from her hands. Instead I grabbed it and offered her the same fake smile she'd given us earlier.

“Here you go,” she sang in her high-pitched voice.

“Thank you,” I said reluctantly.

Indigo and I shared the menu, looking for something good to eat.

“Tameka, I might be wrong, but that sure looks like Vance over there at the table. You see them? It's the table of four.”

My eyes veered in the direction that she pointed in. I knew the roundness of Vance's head and his smile. I knew him anywhere. “That is him!” I exclaimed. “But who are those people he's with?”

“I don't know,” Indigo said.

“Did y'all say that Vance was here?” Jade asked, catching the tail end of the conversation as she approached.

“What's going on?” Alyssa asked.

Everyone was standing behind me as I decided to make my way across the room toward Vance. I couldn't determine if the look on his face was one of surprise, disappointment or fear. I waddled toward him proudly; couldn't wait to meet his friends or whomever he was having dinner with. He would introduce me as his girl and everyone at Grambling would finally know who his family was. My smile faded when he didn't smile back. He looked right through me, as if he didn't know who I was.

“Hey, baby,” I cooed and shook from side to side. “Surprise!”

“Tameka, what are you doing here?” He didn't rise to greet me. No hello, no hugs and kisses. He seemed upset.

“I came down to surprise you for the weekend. Indi and everybody's here. See, they're right over there.” I pointed to my friends who were watching my every move.

Vance glanced over at my friends. They all smiled and waved. He waved but he wasn't smiling.

“Vance, where's your manners?” Kat smiled. “Introduce us to your friend.”

I didn't wait for him to say anything. It seemed that the cat had his tongue. So I extended my hand toward the nice lady. “I'm Tameka Brown, Vance's girlfriend…” I touched my belly, giggled “…and his baby mama.”

“His baby mama! What?” The girl who was seated next to Vance stood and placed her hand on her hip. Her body language was that of a girl who wanted to fight.

“Yes, his baby mama.” I rolled my neck like I had attitude all of a sudden. Was she hard of hearing? And why was she tripping? “And his girlfriend.”

“You can't be his girlfriend,” the girl said, “because I'm his girlfriend.”

“Since when?” I asked.

“Since none-of-your-business. Vance, who is this?” she asked.

The cat still had his tongue so I pushed his shoulder. “Boy, will you please open your mouth and tell this hoochie who I am? I didn't come down here for all this…”

“Then why did you come down here, Tameka?”

“I came down here to kick it with you for the weekend. I thought you might be surprised,” I explained, desperately wishing I hadn't come now.

“What do you have to say for yourself, Vance?” the older stuffy gentleman sitting across from Vance asked. “Is there any truth to what this girl is saying? Is this your child she's carrying?”

Vance cleared his throat. “Um, sir…there's a perfectly good explanation for all of this…I, um…”

The boy was acting as if he was temporarily insane or something. The question was a simple one yet he couldn't answer it. I glanced over at the girl who had been in my face moments earlier. She looked as if tears were starting to fill her eyes and the puzzle pieces were slowly coming together.

“So you already have a girlfriend and a baby on the way! And you never even bothered to tell me.” Her voice cracked.

“I know. I should've told you, Lexi. I'm so sorry,” Vance said.

“Who is she supposed to be, Vance?” I had to know.

“I'm his girlfriend.” There was that attitude again, and her hands on her hips. “Didn't I tell you that earlier?”

“I can explain,” Vance said.

“I'm listening,” the girl he referred to as Lexi said at the same time as me.

“I'm not interested in hearing any more of this and neither is Lexi.” The stuffy older man stood. “Lexi, sweetie, let's go.”

The woman stood, too, and they both pushed their chairs in. Lexi acted as if she was paralyzed, as if her legs wouldn't move. She stood there for a moment longer and then reluctantly started moving toward the door.

“You're no different than any other guy, Vance. I thought you were but you're not.”

“Lexi, I'm sorry,” Vance said. He sounded so pitiful.

She didn't stop. Didn't turn around. She just kept moving as the older gentleman wrapped his arm around her shoulder. She rested her head on his shoulder and I knew then that he must've been her father. I started moving toward the door, too. It was so hard to face my friends after the fiasco. They looked as if they were stunned. All seven faces were in a state of disbelief and all fourteen eyes were on me. I turned to Vance.

“Is this why you came down here…to find a new girl? And party and have fun while I'm stuck at home, fat, pregnant…?”

“Tameka, I'm sorry,” he said. “I didn't mean to hurt you.”

“But you did, Vance. You hurt me really bad.” I felt a roller coaster of emotions—hurt, disappointment, anger, sadness and embarrassment. I wanted Vance to feel those things, too. “I hate you, Vance Armstrong, and I wish I'd never met you.”

With that, I left the restaurant. Needed to hurry because the tears were burning my eyes, threatening to flow. I didn't want the whole world to see me cry. I was glad that I had the key to our room and rushed to catch the next elevator.

“Tameka, wait!” Indigo yelled.

She hopped onto the elevator just in the nick of time and stood next to me.

“I feel so stupid,” I whispered.

She didn't say another word, just grabbed my hand and as our fingers intertwined, we both watched as the elevator climbed its way up fourteen flights.

Marcus

“So,
are you supposed to be Hollywood?” I demanded an answer from Daria.

She looked at me as if I was speaking in a foreign language and laughed. “What are you talking about, Marcus?”

Sitting behind the desk at the library, punching keys on a computer, she barely looked up. I didn't want to confront her while she was at work but I had no choice. I wanted to know if she was the one sending Indigo anonymous e-mail messages.

“I don't think this is funny at all.”

“Okay…so I'll stop laughing,” she said even though she continued to giggle.

“Sending e-mails to people's girlfriends is not cool. Not even a little bit,” I said. Everyone within earshot was looking my way but I didn't care. It didn't even matter that we were in the library. I needed to get to the bottom of this and Daria owed me some answers.

It had been three days since Indigo received the e-mail with photos attached. She refused to take my calls and wouldn't return any of my messages. Not only had guilt overtaken me, but I missed her like crazy. She was the sunshine that brightened my day each morning. Even though it was summertime,
she made it a point to set her alarm just so she could wake me up and send me off to class the right way. She sent me cute little text messages all through the day, sometimes just to say “hi” or “I miss you.” And at night she called to say good-night. And now I wasn't receiving any of those things. It was true—I had taken her for granted and I regretted it.

“Marcus, what are you talking about?” She lowered her voice to a whisper.

“Someone sent an e-mail to Indigo and…”

“And you think it was me.” It was more of a statement rather than a question. She really had no idea what I was talking about.

“Who else would do something like that?”

“I don't know, but I don't appreciate being accused of things without someone getting their facts straight.”

“I'm sorry. I'm just so…angry.”

“Angry because somebody sent your girlfriend a crazy e-mail?”

“Yeah. And she won't talk to me now. I can't even get her to pick up the phone.”

“I thought you were going to break things off with her anyway. I told you, it will be almost impossible dating someone in high school when you come here for your undergrad studies, Marcus.”

“I didn't wanna do it this way. I didn't want to hurt her. I love her.”

“Did you love her when your lips were all up against mine, Marcus?”

“What?”

“Nothing,” she mumbled under her breath. She continued to log a stack of library books into a computer and avoided eye contact with me.

I turned to walk toward the door.

“Hey, Marcus,” Daria said.

“Yeah?”

“I know who Hollywood is,” she said.

“Who?” I walked back toward the desk.

“Your roommate, Chris,” she said. “He tried to hit on my friend, Julia, and he calls himself Hollywood. Maybe you can start there.”

I was shocked. Confused. Why would Chris send an e-mail to Indigo with photos attached? Actually, a better question was how did he get photos of Daria and me and why would he take them in the first place? If Daria was right, then I needed to confront Chris. I wanted to ask him why he was acting like a sick and twisted stalker. I was angry and I knew that I needed to calm down before I approached Chris, but I didn't know how. The closer I got to the dorm, the angrier I became.

As I walked briskly across the courtyard, Jae was headed my way, a backpack swung over his shoulder.

“Hey, Marcus.” He seemed to always be in the best of moods; a wide grin on his face, he reached his fist out—expecting me to give him some dap. I had taught him the meaning of “dap” as well as the African American brotherly handshake. He wanted to practice it every chance he got. “What's up, my brother?”

“It's all good, Jae. What's up with you?”

Jae caused me to smile even though I wasn't in the mood for cheer. He had a way of making life seem less serious. Especially when his issues ran much deeper than mine.

“Chillin' chillin',” Jae said, using the slang I had taught him the first day I met him. He was definitely a quick study. “Where you headed, Marcus?”

“Looking for Chris. You seen him?”

“Not since I left for class this morning. Have you checked
the dining hall or The Yard?” The Yard was where students sometimes hung out. If you were looking for someone, it was a good chance you might find them there.

“Nah, I haven't checked either of those places.”

“Is everything okay? You look funny.”

“It's Chris. He did something really stupid and I need to find him…confront him.”

“Everything he does or says is stupid. Which stupid thing did he do this time?”

Jae had a point. It wasn't unusual for Chris to do or say something stupid or inappropriate. It was as if he didn't care about anyone or anything; he just did what he pleased. I should've been able to dismiss this incident as one of those things but I couldn't. My privacy had been violated in so many ways.

“He took pictures of me and Daria…you know the girl from the library. I kissed her and he sent the photos to my girlfriend back home.”

“He sent pictures to the pretty girl in Georgia…Indigo.” Jae felt as if he knew Indi and she felt as if she knew him, too. They would've liked each other had they ever got the chance to meet.

“Yes, Indigo. She hates me now. Won't take my calls or return my text messages.”

“Wow. And you think Chris took the photos and sent them to her?”

“I don't know if it was him for sure, but someone named Hollywood sent Indigo the e-mail. And somebody told me that Chris calls himself Hollywood.” I started walking again. “So I need to find Chris.”

“I'm coming, too,” Jae said and started walking alongside of me.

We quickly scanned the dining hall in search of Chris only to find that he wasn't there. Making our way over to
The Yard in the afternoon heat, I wasn't surprised that he was not there, either. When we reached the dorm, I had calmed down tremendously and I was glad. But I was still anxious to find Chris. Chris sat in a chair in the corner of the room, laughing heartily as he watched a comedy rerun.

“These guys are hilarious.” He held on to his stomach as he continued to laugh.

It took a lot of restraint not to grab the collar of Chris's shirt and throw him against the wall. Instead I remembered Jae's pep talk that he'd given me while walking from The Yard.

“Violence never helps, Marcus. It only makes things worse. If you're calm, you get better answers.”

“But if you're choking somebody, they're more likely to give you what you want.”

“And if you're choking somebody, you put your life and the lives of others in danger. Not to mention, you risk your future here at Harvard.”

Okay, so he had a point. And I listened. When I saw Chris, I resisted the urge to get in his face. Instead I was calm when I sat on the edge of the sofa across from him. I stared at him with the most fearful stare that I could.

“What's your problem, dude?” he asked, taking a moment away from the TV.

“You're my problem…” I began until Jae cleared his throat to remind me of our pep talk. “Did you send photos of me and Daria to my girlfriend in Georgia?”

“What are you talking about?” Chris asked as Paul walked into the living area from his room. “What's this guy talking about, man?”

“I'm talking about someone sending inappropriate photos of me and another girl to my girlfriend. Who would be so lowdown?”

“Wasn't me, dude. I got better things to do with my time.”

“Aren't you Hollywood? Isn't that your screen name?”

“I am Hollywood…on e-mail, MySpace and Facebook. But I didn't do it.”

“Isn't it ironic that she received the pictures from someone who calls himself Hollywood and there's a guy who also calls himself Hollywood living in my dorm?”

“That is pretty ironic, man.” Chris laughed. “And it sounds like something I would do…just for kicks…but it wasn't me.”

Part of me believed him. I got the feeling that he would brag about doing something like that rather than deny it. It would make his day if someone was miserable as a result of his little sick, twisted mind and he would take pleasure in knowing that he hurt someone. But the fact that he wasn't gloating caused me to believe that he wasn't the culprit.

“Then who has access to your computer?”

“No one has access to my computer but me. My computer is locked when I'm not using it.”

“I'm sorry about that entire situation, Marcus. I heard what happened,” Paul said. “However, you have to decide what you want. Either you're going be with the girl here or you're going to be with your girl back home. It's dangerous to play games with either of their hearts.”

“Well, I think that decision has already been made for me. My girl back home won't even talk to me, thanks to Hollywood.”

“Aww, she'll come around,” Chris said. “She's just pissed off right now. Give her time. You're a good dude and she'll be crazy not to talk to you.”

It was actually the nicest thing Chris had ever said to me and I had to look at him just to see if there was a punch line coming…that laugh or silly grin that belonged only to him. All eyes were on him, waiting for him to say, “I'm just kidding.” But he never did. He just continued to laugh at the TV.

“Chris, what's your story, man? Why are you so…” I took a moment, tried to think of the right word to describe him. There were so many choice words out there that I could've used to describe him, but only one came to mind. “Why are you so anal?”

Chris burst into laughter while the rest of us simply watched. We didn't get the joke.

“You'd be anal, too, if you had to grow up in an environment like I did. With a father who pounded your mom's head into the wall on a daily basis, and while she's screaming for him to stop, he pounds even harder. And if that's not enough, he sexually abuses…” He swallowed hard, turned the television off. He became angry; he started pacing the floor like he wanted to punch something—the wall or one of us. He started shadowboxing. “And he sexually abuses his kids.”

“Your father sexually abused you?” Paul asked.

His silence was answer enough for us. He spoke volumes without even saying a word. Instead he dropped his head, and I felt sorry for him.

“It's okay, Chris,” I said. “Everybody has their family issues. But you're here now…at Harvard…away from him. And after you get your degree, you don't ever have to go back there again…not if you don't want to.”

“It's not that simple, Marcus. My mom is still there. And so are my two sisters. Gina is fourteen and Marlene is sixteen.”

“Can't you have him arrested?” Paul asked.

“My father is very prominent and well respected in our community. He would be out of jail in less than twenty-four hours and would hire the very best attorney team in the country,” Chris said. “No one would go up against him.”

“If you, your mother and your sisters testified against him, he wouldn't stand a chance in court. No judge would allow him to walk,” I said.

“My father
is
the judge.”

“Your father's a judge and does these things to his family?” I asked.

Chris simply shook his head yes. I sighed and placed my hand over my head. Suddenly my problems didn't seem so big, not compared to Chris's problems. His were much more serious than mine and I wanted desperately to help him. But I didn't have any solutions.

“My father wanted me home for the summer. Wanted me to work as an intern for his friend's law firm. When I told him that I was going to summer school instead, he threatened to stop paying my tuition. I'm not sure if he paid it, but I'm assuming that he did because they haven't kicked me out yet.”

“Have you applied for scholarships?” asked Jae.

“Most scholarships require essays, and I'm not the best writer. I can get by for a class but not competing against people who are undoubtedly much better writers than me.”

“We can help you,” Paul said. “Writing is my asset. I could write you an essay in my sleep.”

“And I can find you some scholarships. There's lots of college money out there,” I explained. “I've already received two for next fall when I attend Harvard full-time. My father won't have to come out of pocket for anything during my first two years.”

“Why would you do that for me?” Chris asked. “Why would you help me when I've been rude and obnoxious toward you, got you put out of a cab one night?”

“Yeah, you did do all of those things, didn't you?” I laughed.

“It's not your fault that you're so…so anal,” Paul suggested.

“Yeah, I would probably be anal, too, if I had a father like yours. My father is so different. He's not rich or prominent, although he is respected. He has a property management business that he struggles with. He runs around town making
repairs to these beat-up old houses and he allows his tenants to pay rent at their leisure.” I laughed. “But they love him and he always manages to make ends meet. I wouldn't trade my old man for any other dad in the world.”

“You're lucky,” Chris mumbled. “Some of us aren't as fortunate. I hate my father. Sometimes I wish he was dead.”

“That's deep, man,” I said.

There was a short uncomfortable silence. Paul and I were at a loss of words for Chris. There was nothing more that we could say that would change what he'd gone through with this father.

Paul changed the subject. “Now if you could just get your girlfriend back, your life would be perfect, right, Marcus?”

“I didn't realize how much she meant to me until she was gone,” I explained. “I thought that I needed someone who was more mature. Someone who wasn't in high school but who I could have intellectual conversations with…and who understood me. But the truth is Indigo does understand me. She knows what I'm going to say before I even say it. She knows what I'm thinking and what I'm feeling.”