The Pact (10 page)

I decided to head Mom off at the pass; didn’t want her busting in on us. I stepped out of the room and pulled the door shut behind me. Mom was in the kitchen, putting groceries up.

“What you doing, baby?”

“Nothing,” I said. “Let me help you with that. Why don’t you go on in your room and change into some sweats or something? You want me to start dinner?”

I started placing canned goods on the shelf and the milk and eggs into the refrigerator.

“No, Marcus, I can start dinner.”

“Okay, cool. I like your dinner better, anyway.” I laughed way too hard at my own comment. “But go on and get changed into something more comfortable before you start. I’ll put the groceries away.”

Mom looked at me sideways but did as I said and headed for her bedroom. I hoped that Rena had enough sense to stay in my room until I came back for her. Once Mom had stepped into her room and shut the door, I bolted for my bedroom.

“I’m sorry, but you gotta get out of here,” I whispered to Rena.

“I know,” she agreed, and followed me as we tiptoed down the hallway.

“Marcus, I was thinking…” Mom stepped out of her room and was startled to see Rena and me in the hallway. We were almost there. “Marcus, who is this?”

“Oh, Ma, this is, uh…this is…”

“Rena.” She helped me out, because I was at a loss for words. “I’m Rena, Mrs. Carter.”

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Rena.” Mom shook Rena’s hand. “I didn’t know that Marcus had company. Are you staying for dinner?”

“I would love to,” Rena said before I could protest, and then followed my mother into the kitchen.

“Good, then you can help.” Mom smiled.

“I would love to help.” Rena was enjoying this.

“Why don’t you grab the olive oil from the shelf, pour a little into this frying pan and start sautéing the onions and bell peppers,” Mom told Rena. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to change clothes. Marcus, can I see you for a minute?”

I followed Mom into her bedroom and she pulled a pair of sweatpants out of a drawer.

“Marcus, I don’t mind you having company. You’re a responsible young man, and I’d like to think that you’re making good choices. But I don’t think it’s appropriate for a young lady to be in your bedroom,” she said, and pulled an old T-shirt from another drawer. “If you’re going to entertain company, you can do so in the living room. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, ma’am. It won’t happen again.”

“Good, then we won’t have to go here again,” she said. “Now go and help that girl sauté the veggies. I don’t even know if she can cook.”

“Okay, Ma. Sorry.”

I stepped out of the room and shut the door behind me. Went into the kitchen to help Rena sauté the vegetables; found myself chopping an onion for the first time in my life.

“Was she mad?” Rena whispered.

“No. She was cool.”

“Are you disappointed that we didn’t go all the way, Marcus?”

“Nah, it’s cool. Guess it wasn’t the right time.”

“Guess not,” Rena said, “but I like you a lot. And if I ever give it up, I want it to be with you.”

“Are you a virgin?”

“Of course,” she said, and then started stirring the bell pepper around in the pan.

I dumped the onions that I had chopped into the pan, and she stirred those around too. I was glad that Rena and I had been interrupted. There was no telling what would’ve happened if we’d still been in that room. I never wanted to be responsible for stealing someone’s virginity, especially when I didn’t love her. And she wasn’t even my girl. Taking a girl’s virginity was a huge decision, and not one to be made lightly. Until I got to know Rena better, I would not be the dude to change her life—not in that manner. And I didn’t think she should be so careless about it. I wasn’t ready for that type of change, and neither was she.

I couldn’t wait for dinner to be over and for Rena to leave. I wanted to call Indigo back and find out why she had called. I wondered if she was missing me like I was missing her. I wanted to know if she’d met someone new, and if she still had hopes of hooking up with me at the end of the summer. Even though I wouldn’t be returning to Atlanta, I wondered if she longed for this stupid pact to be over.

Indigo

Nana
had insisted on calling Marcus to find out if he was enjoying his summer vacation in Houston. I hoped he didn’t think it was me calling, or worse, think that I was stalking him or something. I had to admit, I did miss Marcus, but I couldn’t let him know that. If I admitted to missing him, then I’d have to admit that I’d been wrong—wrong to suggest a pact that was stupid to begin with. But I would never do that. Instead, I needed to meet a guy who would make the whole thing worth it.

Marcus and I had taken a photo at one of those booths at the mall. It was a black-and-white photo, and in the picture Marcus was holding up rabbit ears behind my head. I slept with that picture underneath my pillow every night and took a glance at it every chance I got. Didn’t want to forget what he looked like over the summer. I still remembered the way he laughed and the way he said my name. I could even hear his voice in my head sometimes.

I had been in Chicago for three solid weeks and hadn’t once bumped into Jordan Fisher, the boy who had been my summer boyfriend since I was seven years old. I wondered whether he still lived on Nana’s block, because I hadn’t seen his face in the neighborhood. One day when I went for a walk to the gas station to get a package of Skittles, I almost stepped up to his door, but I changed my mind. I did bump into his best friend, Lance Cooper, when I stopped at the end of the block and watched the neighborhood boys play a game of basketball.

“Indi, what you doing here?” Lance asked.

“Staying at my grandmother’s for the summer.”

“You still as fine as you wanna be.” Lance smiled.

“Where’s Jordan? Does he still live in that brick house on the corner?”

“Yeah, he lives there. I’m surprised he’s not out here shooting hoops,” Lance said. “Why? You still like him?”

“I was just curious. Wondered how he was doing.”

“Why don’t you go knock on the door? He’s probably in there.”

“I’ll pass,” I told Lance, and then headed back down the block toward Nana’s. “I’ll see you later.”

“I’ll tell Jordan that you were looking for him.”

“Whatever, Lance.”

Nana and I had settled into the den, sharing a bowl of Orville Redenbacher’s popcorn and watching the
American Idol Rewind. American Idol
had been our favorite show since the first time it came on television, and we laughed so hard at the auditions. It was hard to believe that people actually went on national TV and behaved the way some of the
American Idol
wannabes did. Only a handful of them actually had nice singing voices, though some of them were convinced that they were the next great star, but couldn’t hold a note to save their souls.

Our next favorite show was
Deal or No Deal.
When I was in Atlanta, Nana and I would call each other on the phone during the show.

“Deal or no deal, Indi?” Nana would ask, just as some contestant was trying to decide what to do.

“I say no deal, Nana.” I was the risk taker between the two of us; Nana was the conservative one. She’d yell at the person on TV and tell them to take the deal that the banker was offering. And she’d call them all kinds of stupid when they didn’t. I often wondered what it would be like if Nana and I had a chance to join Howie Mandel on that stage as contestants. If I were a contestant, Nana would be on the edge of her seat, screaming for me to take the deal, and I’d be trying to convince her that I could win the million dollars.

“Indi, if you don’t take that deal, I’m going to whip your behind.” I could just hear Nana saying that.

It would be the one time I’d have to take that whipping, because if I believed that I had a million dollars in the briefcase, I would not take the deal.

We laughed as Simon told some girl that her voice was horrendous. Simon had such a way with words and showed no mercy when telling people how bad they were. I felt bad for some of them. Paula always said whatever Randy said, and Nana and I swore up and down that Simon and Paula had a thing going on during one season. We shook our heads every time Paula opened her mouth. After she would give her little spiel to the contestants, Nana and I would look at each other and say, “What?” in unison. Paula always seemed to be in her own little world.

When my cell phone rang, I snatched it up…wondered if it was Marcus. When Jade’s name flashed across the screen, I decided not to answer. I’d call her back later.

“You’re not going to answer?” Nana asked, that skeptical look on her face.

“It’s Jade. I’ll call her back when
American Idol
goes off.”

“Afraid it was Marcus, huh?” she asked.

“I knew it wasn’t Marcus,” I lied. “He has no reason to call me.”

“I was just checking.” Nana smiled and then reclined in her chair.

By the time
American Idol Rewind
had gone off, Nana had dozed off. She was drowning out the Channel 7 news with her snoring, her belly rising and then deflating every few seconds. I gently removed Nana’s reading glasses from her face—she wore them when she read the
Chicago Tribune
and also when she watched television—and I placed them on the end table. She didn’t budge, and I decided to let her sleep.

I grabbed my phone, started typing Jade a text message.

Hey, ugly…what u doing?

She immediately sent a text back, as if she had been waiting to hear from me.

I sent u a text an hour ago…where u been?

Watchin A.I. with Nana.

Is that how u spendin ur summer vacation…watchin tv with Nana?

Went to a club da other night wit my cuz…adult club…

“Big Things Poppin’,” my ring tone of choice, rang loudly through the living room. I quickly silenced it before it woke Nana up. I hit the green button to answer the call.

“Hello,” I whispered.

“You are lying!” Jade screamed into the phone.

“Not,” I said.

“I need details,” she begged.

“Not right now,” I said. “Later.”

“Nana’s sitting right there?”

“Affirmative.”

“Then go upstairs, or out on the front porch.”

“No.”

“Fine, just send me a text, then,” she said.

“Cool, bye.” I hung up the phone when I saw Nana squirming in her chair.

I sent several text messages and told Jade all about my night out with Sabrina. She was so jealous, and she wished she had taken Nana up on her invitation to spend the summer in Chicago with me. I wished she had, too, because I was dying for some conversation. It was cool hanging out with Nana, but sometimes I just wanted to talk to someone my age, and wanted somebody that I could walk to the BP station with and watch the neighborhood boys play basketball on the corner. It would’ve been nice to have someone that I could stay up with until the wee hours of the night talking about boys or listening to Chicago’s hip-hop station on the front porch. We could’ve gone to the Ford City Mall and shopped until we dropped—window-shopped, that is.

Nana finally woke herself up with her own snoring, and then looked over at me as if I had done something.

“You still up, sweet pea?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Well, I’m taking myself on up to bed.” She stood; it seemed to take her forever just to get on her feet. She grabbed her glasses and the
Essence
magazine that she had been reading earlier, climbed the stairway to her bedroom.

“Good night, Nana.”

“Good night, Indi. Listen for your uncle Keith. He done lost his key again.”

“I will, Nana,” I said, and then stretched out on the sofa, flipped the channel on the television to MTV.
Run’s House
was always a good choice for a late-night laugh, so I settled there. I went into the kitchen in search of a snack and remembered that Nana was a diabetic, so all she had was sugar-free snacks and fresh fruit. I grabbed a green apple from her fruit basket on the dining room table and bit into it. I poured myself a glass of water and headed back to the sofa.

I was startled by my ringing phone and checked the screen to see who it was. Marcus. Guessed he was returning Nana’s call from earlier. She had gone to bed, so there was no need for me to pick up the call. I let it roll into voice mail. When I heard the little alert that let me know he’d left a message, I didn’t hesitate to listen to it.

“Hey, Indi, it’s me, Marcus…. I was just returning your call. Hit me back when you get this message. Peace.”

His voice was so fresh and sweet, I had to listen again…and again…and again. Before long, I had listened to Marcus’s voice mail message seven times; I resisted the urge to call him back, though. The only thing stopping me was the fact that I didn’t have an excuse for returning the call. When he found out that it was Nana who had initially made the call, I’d have to explain why I was calling instead of her. So I passed. Marcus hadn’t been at all happy about my idea of the pact, and I wasn’t sure if he wanted to talk to me. The night before he’d left for Houston, he didn’t even say good-night. There’d been no Skittles thrown against my bedroom window. And when I threw Skittles at his, he didn’t even bother to turn on the light. He was done with me, once and for all.

Uncle Keith hadn’t knocked on the door yet and my eyelids were getting heavy. I made my way upstairs to my bedroom. The radio on the nightstand next to my bed was tuned to Chicago’s station 107.5, and the quiet storm was on. I showered, put on my Victoria’s Secret pajamas and hopped into bed. As soon as my head hit the pillow, I realized just how tired I was. Before long I was counting sheep and visiting Snow White’s party.