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Marcus

Harvard.
It looked nothing like the pictures I'd seen on the Internet. It was far more interesting, with its old buildings and beautiful green grass. It was fascinating when I found out that Harvard had been around since the pilgrims had landed on Plymouth. I'd read about the pilgrims in elementary school, but to actually see a piece of history in real life was a trip. Harvard started out with nine students, and I tried to imagine how a college with so few people had grown into a university with more than eighteen thousand students trying to get a degree. So much history on these grounds, I thought. One of the buildings called Massachusetts Hall was where the soldiers of the Continental army had stayed during the Revolutionary War.

As I took a look around, I could almost imagine President Barack Obama walking these grounds when he attended Harvard as a law student. In fact, he was the first African American president of the
Harvard Law Review.
The
Harvard Law Review
—a journal written by students at Harvard about important legal issues. No other person of color had been
Law Review
president. The first African American president of the
Harvard Law Review
and the first
African American president of the United States. So many firsts for him. He was someone that I could look up to, be proud of. I took a long, deep breath and then exhaled. Harvard was going to be cool.

After picking up the key to my dorm, I dragged my black suitcase on wheels across the courtyard toward Harvard Square. Wearing a pair of denim shorts, a red T-shirt and Nike flip-flops, I held on to the strap of my gym bag that was heavy on my shoulder. I had intended to pack light, but it was hard considering I had to pack enough for seven weeks. Every pair of Jordans I owned was stuffed inside the gym bag, along with a pair of dress shoes. Pop had insisted on the dress shoes, a pair of slacks and a button-down shirt with a collar.

“You might need to dress up, son. You just never know,” he'd said.

He was more excited about the summer at Harvard than I was. Which was amazing because the first time I'd told Pop of my plans for college, he had frowned on them. Said that I needed to stick closer to home and be prepared to take over our family's property management business. But it seemed that the closer I got to my senior year in high school, the easier it was for me to talk to him about college. In fact, when I first mentioned the summer program at Harvard, he encouraged me to apply. And when I told him how much it was going to cost, he didn't even flinch.

“I've been saving my money, and I got part of it,” I explained to Pop, “and what I can't cover, I can probably get some financial aid.”

I wanted to make sure that Pop knew how important it was to me—so much so that I was willing to pay my own way. Every year, high school students from all over the world spent the summer on Harvard's campus, attending college
classes and getting a taste of what it was like to be a college student. I knew that Harvard was my number one college choice, and I couldn't think of a better way of spending my summer or my money, especially since my senior year was fast approaching. In the fall, I would be one of the big dogs at my high school. Preparing for my last year of high school and my future was the most important thing at the moment.

“I've been saving some money, too, Marcus. Started putting it in a trust fund about a year ago, just in case you were really serious about going to this Ivy League school,” Pop said. “Ain't that the school Barack Obama went to?”

“Sure is.” I smiled.

“Yeah, that's where I want you to go, son. Maybe you'll mess around and become the president of the United States one of these days.” Pop laughed. “How much money you say you need for that summer program?”

Pop had written a check for the full balance to pay for my summer classes, room and board. I made sure my application was one of the first ones they received, especially since early applications received priority. Unfortunately, some people ended up on a waiting list and I was determined that it wouldn't be me. I had received my acceptance letter two weeks after I'd submitted it. I didn't waste any time registering for my classes.

I stuck my key into the lock and entered my dorm suite, dropped my gym bag onto the floor before pulling my suitcase into the room. My roommate had already claimed the bed closest to the window; his garment bag sprawled across the twin bed and there was a pair of tan loafers on the floor beneath the bed. A laptop computer sat on top of the desk across the room, its battery being charged in one of the electrical outlets on the wall. I claimed the empty bed and dropped my bags next to it.

I sat on the edge of the bed and flipped open my cell phone. Indigo had called twice and left three text messages since I'd left Atlanta early that morning. She'd tagged along to the airport with my father when he dropped me off at the curb. Tears had filled her eyes as we hugged and said our goodbyes. She acted as if seven weeks would be a lifetime, when it wasn't the first time that we'd been apart for the summer. The summer before, Indigo had spent the entire time in Chicago with her Nana Summer and I had spent my vacation in Houston with my mom. We'd made a pact to break up and then get back together at the end of the summer, provided neither of us met someone new. That was a year ago, and we both agreed that it was a stupid pact and that we should never have agreed to it. But this was different. This wasn't really a vacation; this was my future. And I had no intentions of meeting anyone new. Indigo was my girl for life.

I checked my text messages.

Safe travels. That was the first one.

U there yet? That was the second text message.

Miss u already…can u call me?

I hadn't had time to miss Indigo. From the moment I rushed through the automatic doors at Hartsfield-Jackson Airport, I had made a mad dash for the ticket counter to get my boarding pass and then rushed through the security checkpoint. I had just enough time to grab a sausage, egg and cheese biscuit at Burger King before I reached my gate. Agents were already boarding my flight by the time I got there. Once on board, I reclined in my seat. Headphones on my ears, I flipped through a
Sports Illustrated
magazine. I'd already started to doze before thoughts of Indigo had time to enter my head.

Once I'd reached Logan Airport in Boston, I hit the ground
running. I purchased a CharlieTicket for two dollars at the train station and hopped on the “T” and headed for South Station where I would transfer to the Red Line subway that would take me to Harvard Square. I had enough on my mind just trying to get from the airport to campus. I had caught the MARTA train in Atlanta a million times, but this new subway system in a new city meant that getting around would be a challenge for me. Exiting the “T” at Harvard Yard, I'd been on a mission. No time for phone calls or text messages.

Made it safely. I sent a text to Indigo and then dialed my father's number. He didn't pick up, so I left him a voice message that my flight had landed and I was already on campus. I slipped my shoes from my feet, leaned back onto my bed. Before long, I was fast asleep.

The sound of laughter and voices shook me from my nap. I checked my face for drool and sat straight up.

“You Marcus?” An Asian-looking boy wearing khaki shorts, a white polo shirt and leather sandals stood in front of me. His shiny black hair was combed to the back of his head. He held his hand out to me.

“Yes, I am,” I said and grabbed his hand in a firm handshake.

“I'm Jae-Hwa,” he said. “Just call me Jae.”

Jae's English was broken and he looked as if he struggled to get it right.

“You're an international student?” I asked.

“From Korea,” said Jae. “And you?”

“I'm from Atlanta,” I told Jae.

“Atlanta?” he asked. Puzzled, he frowned.

“Atlanta, Georgia,” I said. “You heard of it?”

“I heard of the state of Georgia. Yes. It's here…in the United States.” He grinned, as if he'd made a sudden discovery.

“I bet it took you forever to get here from Korea!” I exclaimed. “How long did it take?”

“Take?” he asked.

“Yeah, how long? You know…on the airplane…” I moved my hand in the air as if it were an airplane moving across the sky.

“Oh, airplane.” Jae smiled. “Long time to fly on airplane. Twenty-eight hours.”

“It took you twenty-eight hours to fly here, man?” I thought I'd heard him wrong. That seemed like an extremely long time to be on a plane, especially since my two-hour flight from Atlanta had me restless. I couldn't imagine flying for twenty-six hours longer.

“Yes. Long time.” Jae smiled again. “You hungry, Marcus?”

“Yeah, I could eat.” I rubbed my stomach.

“You would like to go eat?” Jae asked. “Dinner in ten minutes. We could go together.”

“Yeah, that'll be cool,” I said and stood. Slipped my flip-flops back on my feet.

“Cool?” Jae asked, that puzzled look on his face again.

Realizing he wasn't familiar with my slang, I said, “Dinner would be nice, Jae. Let's go eat.”

 

Annenberg Hall was impressive with its grand ceiling, hanging chandeliers and stained glass windows like the ones you would find in a Catholic church. With wooden tables and chairs in perfect rows along the shiny wood floors, the dining hall was filled with laughter and loud conversations. Jae and I found a couple of empty seats next to two white guys and a short black guy who needed a haircut—like yesterday.

“Hey.” The first white guy stretched his hand my way and in his British-sounding accent he said, “I'm Paul. Paul Chapman.”

I took his hand in a firm handshake. “I'm Marcus Carter. And this here's Jae-Hwa.”

“This is Chris Matthews and Derrick Smith.” Paul introduced his friends. “I believe we're all roommates at Claverly Hall.”

“No kidding,” I said, taking a long hard look at the guys who I'd be living with for the next seven weeks.

Jae and I shook hands with everyone.

“Where're you from, Marcus?” Paul asked.

“Atlanta,” I said. “And you?”

“London,” Paul said.

“I'm from Yellowknife,” Chris stated.

Jae and I glanced at each other, puzzled.

“It's in Idaho,” Chris added and smiled.

“I'm from Alaska,” Derrick announced. “I'm a computer geek. I could tap into Fort Knox if I wanted to, which is why my father all but insisted that I join the marines. He's been a marine since before I was born, and I was supposed to become a marine, too. I think I disappointed him when I chose Harvard.”

“Yeah, that's like my father,” Paul said. “A member of the British armed forces who runs a tight ship. I was supposed to join the British navy but I insisted on college. I'd rather attend UCLA or somewhere warm like Florida. But he insisted that if I must go to college, then Harvard would be my only choice.”

“Same here.” I added, “I'm supposed to take over our family business rather than go to college at all.”

“Where the heck are you from, Jae?” Chris asked. “Japan…China…?”

“I'm from Seoul, Korea,” Jae answered, even though he didn't realize he'd just been insulted.

I glanced at Chris, trying to figure him out. I wondered if he was making fun of Jae or if he just lacked manners.

“Korea?” Chris asked. “Why didn't you just do the summer program there? Harvard has this same program in Korea.”

“I wanted to come to the States,” Jae said.

“That makes sense,” Paul said and then quickly changed the subject. He obviously felt the same way about the vibe he got from Chris. “Marcus, what classes are you taking?”

“Applied Mathematics,” I said, “and of course African and African American Studies.”

“You have to study being an African American?” Chris laughed. “Haven't you been one all your life?”

“Are you taking any history classes, Chris?” I asked.

“Of course.” Chris smiled.

“Whose history will you be studying?” I asked.

“Who is this guy?” he asked no one in particular. “American History, of course.”

“Haven't you been an American all of your life?” I asked.

Chris gave me a sideward glance before our conversation was interrupted by someone on a microphone.

“May I have your attention, please?” the female voice asked, “Attention, please…everyone…”

Voices were silenced throughout the room.

“I would like to welcome each of you to Harvard University. We know that this is an exciting and wonderful time for each of you….”

While I listened to the speech, I glanced over at Chris. He was different. But so were all of us. All the faces sprinkled around the room, each was different one from the other—a mixture of white, yellow and brown faces. Everyone was from somewhere else, with a different story. All had different goals and dreams, but one common goal: to make the most of their summer at Harvard. Nothing I had ever done in my life could compare with this—except, of course, making Indigo my girl. And even that was a close second.

Tameka

I heard
the doorbell but tried to ignore it as I listened to Rocsi from 106 & Park as she introduced the next musical guest.

“You don't hear that doorbell ringing?” Mommy asked as she wiped her hands on a dish towel.

I just gave her a look of unconcern. I knew it was my friends Indigo, Asia, Jade and Tymia on the other side of the door because they'd just sent a text message and said that they were pulling up in front of my house. I wasn't ready to see them, not with a belly the size of a watermelon and swollen feet. They would ask too many questions and stare too hard. They knew I was pregnant, but hadn't seen me since the last day of school. My weight had almost doubled since then. They were my friends, but it was so much easier to alienate myself from everyone.

“It's Indi,” Mommy said. “And Asia, Jade…and that other little girl…what's her name?”

“Tymia,” I responded but my eyes never left the television set.

“What's the matter, baby?” Mommy asked. “Don't you wanna see your friends?”

“Not really,” I said. “Can you just get rid of 'em?”

“No, Tameka. I won't do that. These girls are your friends and they just wanna make sure you're okay.”

“They just wanna be all up in my business.”

“I refuse to believe that,” Mommy whispered. “I'm opening this door.”

It was no secret that pregnancy caused you to have mood swings, and most of the time you just wanted to be alone. The summer was hot already, and my body was taking on a mind of its own. My life was different from the lives of my friends. They were still dancers on the hottest dance team in Atlanta. They could still wear sexy jeans from the 5-7-9 store and cute little shirts that were on sale at Charlotte Russe for the summer. They could strut their stuff in bikinis from Victoria's Secret and could slide their feet into a pair of flip-flops from Old Navy without feeling like their toes were going to burst. Their lives had not changed one bit, while mine was suddenly doing somersaults.

Mommy swung the door opened and I couldn't help noticing Indigo's flawless skin. She wore a hot pink tank top and denim shorts, leather flip-flops on her feet. Asia toppled in the door behind her wearing a colorful sundress. Tymia followed with a pair of white capris and a fuchsia-colored top with matching lip gloss. Jade was pulling up the rear in a pair of khaki shorts and a multicolored top with spaghetti straps.

“What's up, girl?” Asia asked.

“Did you get my text?” Indi asked. “I've left you like a hundred text messages.”

“Yeah, and I called you twice yesterday,” Tymia added.

“Are you avoiding us?” Indigo plopped down on the sofa next to me and snatched the remote from my hand. Jade took a seat next to Indi, and Asia and Tymia both took seats on the love seat across the room.

“I didn't feel like talking,” I admitted. No need in sugar-coating the truth.

My hair was all over my head and I still had on pajamas. I had brushed my teeth that morning, but a shower wouldn't have been a bad thing.

“Can I get you girls something to drink?” Mommy asked as she opened the blinds and let sunshine in.

“No, thank you,” they all said in unison.

“You should all stay for dinner,” Mommy said and smiled at me. “I'm making spaghetti with meatballs.”

“Ooh, that sounds good!” Jade exclaimed. “Count me in, Mel.”

“Me, too,” Indigo said.

“Who's on 106 & Park today?” Asia asked.

“Robin Thicke,” I mumbled. “It's a rerun, though.”

“Did you really think that you could avoid us, girlfriend?” Indigo asked and started flipping through the channels as if she was at home, and as if I wasn't already watching something.

“I was hoping.” I snatched the remote from her and switched the channel back to BET.

“Well, it won't be that easy to get rid of us. We're here to stay,” Tymia announced. “Now stand up and let us see how phat you are. And when I say phat, I mean P-H-A-T!”

“You look really cute. And you're glowing,” Asia said.

“And your hair is so long and healthy looking.” Indigo ran her fingers through my hair. “But you need to do something with these nails. Let me see what I got in my purse to help you out.”

Indigo started digging through her purse—for what, I wasn't sure. They acted as if nothing had changed; as if my body wasn't the size of a Goodyear blimp. I had been so scared that their visit would be weird and uncomfortable,
and so I had avoided all thoughts of seeing them. But I suddenly found myself glad that they had stopped by. It was as if we hadn't missed a beat—as if we were still the same friends that we'd always been.

“You need a pedicure…like…yesterday.” Jade frowned as she glanced at my toes.

“Why don't we all go and get pedicures!” Asia was always so bubbly.

“I'm not leaving this house.” I made that clear.

“Ever?” Tymia asked.

“Not until the end of the summer. I can't risk someone from school seeing me.” My mind was made up.

“You're joking, right?” Jade asked.

“I'm very serious.”

“What about when school starts?” Indigo asked. “Everybody's gonna see you then.”

“I'll cross that bridge when I get to it,” I said. “Now can we drop it?”

“Cool…it's dropped.” Indigo grabbed my hand and began trimming my nails with a fingernail clipper.

As Robin Thicke serenaded us on 106 & Park, I laughed and talked with my friends like old times. Soon after, we ate spaghetti and meatballs at my dining room table and gossiped about everybody we could think of.

“So, have you heard from Vance since he left for Grambling?” Jade asked.

“Shut up!” Indi shushed Jade. “He's only been gone a few days.”

“To answer your question…he sent a text when he got there. But I haven't heard from him since….” There was a long silence in the room. It was the first time since they showed up that I felt uncomfortable. I broke the silence. “Indi, I heard that Marcus went away to Harvard for the summer.”

“Yep, he left Saturday morning.” She pouted. “I miss him already.”

“At least he's coming back in a few weeks. Unlike Vance who won't be home until Thanksgiving or Christmas.”

Nobody said anything. It was as if they were afraid to touch the subject of Vance being gone.

“Can you pass me the garlic bread?” Tymia asked, and I handed her the glass dish filled with bread.

From that moment on, we kept the conversation light. Being pregnant brought about more challenges than I was ready for.