Tyrell (17 page)

Jasmine set me up. And I'm so damn stupid, I walked right in her trap. Course I don't even see the trap at first. I'm just chillin', standing outside her school at 1:50 eating a buttered roll from the truck in front of the building. All I got on my mind is business and how I'ma hype the party so kids is gonna wanna come. I'm all ‘bout numbers, gettin' as many kids up in there as possible.

The thing is, I know when me and Jasmine go ‘round to the schools, them kids is gonna be sizing me up, trying to see if I'm the kinda brotha that could throw a good party. Now I know I'm looking good, ‘cause I always do, but my jacket look like shit. I mean, it ain't tore up or nothing, but it ain't new like what Troy got.

Standing out here waiting for Jasmine, I'm kinda tired, ‘specially ‘cause I been working on my feet all day. The good thing is I'm up $66, which I need ‘cause I been walking ‘round broke after Leon took all the money Cal and them gave me. But I still could use even more money before the party. In case some last-minute shit come up.

I called Leon a couple hours ago to let him know I'ma have the equipment back, so the party is definitely on. He told me he gonna be at the depot to let us in at 5:30 when it's dark enough out that we could get all the equipment in without nobody seeing us. Before I hung up from him, he reminded me that I still gotta give him the extra $200, like I forgot ‘bout that or something. Asshole. I just hope he do a good job setting the party up and keeping us from getting locked up. ‘Cause that's what I'm paying his ass for.

Jasmine go to a school called The Bronx High School for Cultural Expression. I don't know what the fuck that mean, but the school is mad small, so probably a lot of kids don't want they culture expressed. The school is in the basement of a office building just a couple blocks from Yankee Stadium, and while I'm standing there, all kinds of people with briefcases and shit come in and out the building.

Me, I know I could never work in no office all day. I would probably lose my mind locked up in a building from nine to five. That just ain't me. I'm the kinda guy that need to be his own boss. Like my pops always say, people spend they day working for somebody else only to get nothing but chump change. But when you work for yourself, everything you make is yours.

After ‘bout fifteen minutes, I go inside to warm up. This female guard is standing by the door. “You making a delivery?” she ask me, and I'm thinking, do she see me carrying a package or something?

But I just go, “No, I'm waiting for my friend.”

“What's your name?”

“Tyrell Green, why?”

She flip though some sheets of paper on a clipboard. “Oh, go
on downstairs. They're waiting for you in the guidance counselor's office.” She write my name on one of them visitor stickers and tell me to put it on. I'm confused as hell, but I put it on and take the stairs down to the basement where they got a big banner with the school name on it. What the fuck is Jasmine up to? She ain't say nothing ‘bout me coming inside her school. I thought she was gonna meet me outside. And why she waiting for me with the guidance counselor?

Course this is before it hit me that I been set up.

When I get to the office, Jasmine tell me some bullshit ‘bout how she sorry she kept me waiting, but her and the guidance counselor, who she be calling by her first name, had to talk ‘bout something. So for a while I'm just sitting there listening to them talk ‘bout some teacher that Jasmine having trouble with ‘cause all he do is give tests and shit.

“I'm not kidding, Yolanda,” Jasmine say. “He doesn't understand that this is an alternative school. This is the kinda school that's supposed to help kids that had trouble at other schools.”

I lean my head back and close my eyes for a second. Damn. Why is Jasmine doing this to me? She so fuckin' obvious it ain't even funny.

Them two go on and on trying to show me what a good school this is, and the only thing that keep my attention even a little is that Yolanda is hot. For real. She can't be no more than twenty-five, she Dominican-looking, and her body is tight. Shit, man, the guidance counselor at my school look like Cedric the Entertainer in a wig. I ain't lying neither.

Finally Yolanda turn to me and say, “What school do you go to, Tyrell?”

“I don't go to school no more,” I tell her, like she don't already know. “I'm taking a break.” I look over to Jasmine who's doing everything she can not to make eye contact with me. She looking at her nails, then at her watch, then at the floor, actin' as guilty as she gonna get.

Yolanda ask me how long I ain't been to school and I tell her I only missed ‘bout a month, and how I'm trying to work and make money so we could get out the shelter system. All that. She look at me while I'm talking and it's kinda like she actually listening to what I gotta say.

“How old are you?”

“Fifteen, but I'ma be sixteen in March, so I could drop out then, right?”

“Is that what you want?”

“Nah. I mean, maybe. I don't know.”

Jasmine elbow me in the side. “C'mon, Ty. You could come to this school. Tell him, Yolanda.”

Yolanda laugh a little. “You just did.” She stand up and come from behind the desk. She sit in the chair on the other side of me. “You've only missed a month. That's not too bad right now. As Jasmine said, we're an alternative school, so we have various schedules and programs here. Some kids are on the traditional four-year track. Some would rather take five or six years to graduate, so they can work more hours at their jobs. If you transfer here, you can choose your own plan, and we'll do everything we can to help you achieve your goals.” She stand up again. “Okay. That's my sales pitch. Tell me what you're thinking.”

“I'm thinking I got played by a fine girl.”

Jasmine start giggling next to me.

“Well,” Yolanda say, “boys have done crazier things than go back to high school for a girl they like. Jasmine is a very sweet girl who cares about you. And you can never have too many people who care about you.”

“True that,” I say. But still, I don't like being set up.

Before we leave, Yolanda make me give her my information so she can contact my school and get my records faxed to her. “And why don't we meet Monday at ten to discuss your options? No pressure.” She smile. “Seriously. We'll just talk.” When I don't say nothing right away, she say, “Okay, okay. I'll even steal some donuts from the teachers' lounge and we'll have a late breakfast together for fifteen minutes, which is about all the time I'll have before students like your friend here come knocking on the door.”

“I don't know.”

“The donuts are fresh on Mondays,” she say. “By Wednesday, they're like ashtrays with holes in the middle.”

I laugh. “A'ight. We can talk, but I ain't saying I'ma come back to school or nothing.”

“I'll see you Monday.” She reach her hand out.

We shake. “Monday,” I say.

When we get outside, Jasmine rip the visitor sticker off my jacket, and I'm, like, “Why you do that for?”

“Because you look like a
pendejo,
that's why.”

“I ain't talking ‘bout the sticker, I'm talking ‘bout that whole thing with Yolanda just now. Why you set me up like that?”

Jasmine put her hands on her hips. “Set you up?”

“Don't start.”

She laugh like this is a joke or something. “You can't get mad
at me for trying to help you. And if you come here to my school, me and you are gonna have so much fun everyday.”

I just shake my head ‘cause I can tell she got the whole thing worked out in her mind already. It don't matter what I say. I don't know why, but females always think they know what guys need. Like we too dumb to run our own life or something.

We don't talk no more ‘bout Yolanda or school for the rest of the day. We just get to work. Jasmine tell me she already got the word out at her school, so we go straight to one of her old schools ‘cause they get out at 2:35. We gonna promote there for ‘bout fifteen or twenty minutes, then go a couple blocks to the other school that kicked her out. They don't get out ‘til 3:00.

The first school ain't too far from the criminal court where me and my moms spent way too much time in September going to hearings and meeting with my pops lawyer who ain't know shit ‘bout how to keep a man outta jail. The lawyer had, like, fifty thousand cases, and no matter how many times he seen us, he still ain't know who we was. That's ‘cause he was one of them free lawyers you get when you can't afford no better. And the truth is, when you pay nothin', you get nothin'.

When we get to the school, it look like half the kids is in front of the building like it's summer or something. They talking and smoking, and taking they time walking down the block. Man, I woulda been long gone by now if this was my school.

Jasmine go right to work like she gettin' paid to promote my party. And she wasn't lying when she said she know everyone. And it don't matter the race neither. When she went to this school, she musta been down with the Blacks, Puerto Ricans, Dominicans, Koreans, Cambodians, and even the couple White kids ‘cause everybody know her and come up to her to say they miss her and shit like that. Everyone kiss her too.

She a new person when she with all them other kids. She all friendly and happy, and that smile don't never leave her face. Jasmine introduce me to some of her friends. “He's the best DJ. You gotta come hear him,” she tell a group of girls. She give them the time and place. “And I'm gonna be there, and I'm inviting a lot of cute guys, so you gotta come.” One girl write the info on the back of her notebook. “And, Marisol, you gotta bring your brother. And all his cute friends.”

“Okay,” Marisol say. She look like she would do anything Jasmine tell her to.

Jasmine hug her. “Tell everyone you know, okay? Spread the word.”

Then, later, when she talk to two guys, she tell them, “Girls are getting in for free, so you know there's gonna be a lot of them there. I invited all my friends. And I'm gonna be there, and I wanna dance with both of you.”

She say the same thing to every guy. The way I figure it, by the time we through with both schools, she done promised to dance with, like, forty-something guys. And the way them dudes was looking at her, and putting they arms ‘round her waist and kissing her on the cheek and shit, I ain't really like it. How they know me and her wasn't together? Why they think they could get with her when I'm standing right there?

Matter of fact, most of the time that's just what I was doing—standing ‘round, not doing much of nothin'. Yeah, Jasmine introduced me to just ‘bout everyone she know, but I ain't had to say nothing. She did all the talking, and she was doing just fine selling my party all by herself.

And now I know there's a whole ‘nother side to Jasmine I ain't seen before. The whole time we was promoting, she looked like she was in heaven, just eating up all the attention them kids was giving her. Looking at her like that, she ain't even seem like the same girl that's scared to be alone, that be sad and crying all the time.

When we done, Jasmine grab my hand and start pulling me up the street. “Come with me to Emiliano's. I need to get my dance outfit.”

We walk a couple blocks and catch the D train at 167
^th
Street. The trains is getting kinda crowded ‘cause all the kids is outta school now, but we find two seats together in the last car. I gotta say, I'm feeling real good, not only ‘bout the party, but ‘bout Jasmine too. The way she was with all them kids, talking me up and making the party sound so good, man, it was just cool being with her and spending time with her away from Bennett.

All the way uptown, Jasmine talking nonstop. “I hope Hector doesn't come. He was the guy that was wearing the black jacket with the red trim, remember him? If he comes, and if Miguel is there too, there's gonna be trouble because I was going out with Hector first, and he was a nice guy for, like, two months, then that
maricon
started to disrespect me, so Emiliano made me break up with him, but I didn't really do it. Not all the way. But I started going out with Miguel so Emil wouldn't think I was still with Hector. You understand?”

“Yeah.” Man, my head is spinning.

“So I was going out with Hector and Miguel at the same time, and Emiliano found out and he wouldn't let me leave the house. He kept telling me I was gonna come out pregnant, but I wasn't doing nothing with Miguel. Just Hector.”

“Why you ain't stop messing with the dude that was treating you bad?”

“You seen how hot he was, right?”

I give her a look, like, do she really think I'm checking out other dudes? “So what happened?” I'm just trying to get to the end of this story already.

“Emiliano started driving me to school and back on the bread truck again, that's what happened.”

I start laughing. “So who you like better now? Hector or Miguel?”

“None of them. I like you.”

“You all talk, girl. Last night you dogged me.”

She put her arms ‘round me and kiss me on the cheek. “Try again tonight,” she tell me.

“Nah. I don't like being rejected.” I kiss her lips. “Am I gonna get rejected again?”

She smile, all sexy and shit. “Wait and see.”

Damn. She playing games again. I don't know why I'm putting up with this, but, really, what else I got to do?

Emiliano live on Grand Concourse, not too far from Mosholu Parkway. The area up there is kinda alright, and most of them buildings is still nice too. Jasmine got a key to get in the lobby, but Emiliano changed the apartment locks on them, so when we get upstairs she gotta ring the buzzer.

I hear a man call out something in Spanish, and Jasmine say her name.

“You sure you don't want me to wait downstairs?” I ask her. “'Cause I ain't looking to cause no trouble or nothing.”

The door open and Emiliano is standing there in sweatpants and a T-shirt. He ain't what I pictured neither. Emiliano gotta be forty at least. He kinda on the short side for a guy, and he thick like one of them dudes that be lifting weights everyday. He kinda diesel.

Emiliano give Jasmine a quick hug, then he talk to her in Spanish and I hear him say “Reyna.”

Jasmine say something, and the funny thing is, I can tell she lying, even in Spanish, ‘cause her voice get a little higher and
she move her hands a lot more. She ain't as good at lying as Novisha is.

Then, finally, Jasmine introduce me to Emiliano, still in Spanish. Me and him shake hands, then we all go in the apartment, and, man, all I gotta say is, Jasmine was living good before Bennett.

Emiliano got his crib hooked up. Leather furniture, home theater with a flat-screen TV, audio system with surround sound speakers. And on the walls he got big pictures of him and Reyna, the kind you get done at Sears, and one of Jasmine in a white cap and gown, probably from her middle school graduation. And the whole apartment is real neat and clean. Shit. No wonder Jasmine want her sister to get back with this dude.

“Tyrell,” Emiliano say in a thick accent. “Sit down.” He look like he struggling to think how to say something else. Then he just give up and turn to Jasmine and ask her something in Spanish.

“He wants to know if you want something to eat or drink,” Jasmine say. “He only knows a little English, and sometimes he gets embarrassed if he pronounces a word wrong, especially when he's around people he doesn't know yet.”

“Um, you can tell him that I'm a'ight.” I give Emiliano a little thank-you nod. Then I sit down on the leather couch, and it's so soft I could just chill here all night. The TV is on, but it's on some Spanish news channel. Not that I care. I don't need nobody to tell me how fucked up this city is.

Jasmine and Emiliano go to the kitchen and sit down at the table. I can hear “Reyna” over and over, and Jasmine is lying and lying, talking so much junk. I gotta say, it look like Emiliano real worried ‘bout getting his woman back.

After a while I can't figure out what they talking ‘bout no more ‘cause I ain't learn shit in ninth-grade Spanish, that's for damn sure. I only understand one word here and there. I hear Jasmine say something ‘bout
restaurante,
so I guess she telling him ‘bout the waitress job she trying to get. Emiliano don't seem all that into it though. He telling her something ‘bout
escuela,
like he don't want her getting no job if she ain't gonna have no time for her schoolwork. He trying to look out for her, like he her father for real. He do care ‘bout her.

When Jasmine go to her room to get her dance outfit, Emiliano come over to me and hand me a small bottle of Malta. I seen Malta forever in them bodegas, but I ain't never tasted it before. And, to be honest, I don't really wanna taste it now. But when I try to turn it down, Emiliano just smile and say, “No. Try.”

The bottle cap is off already, so I drink some and, man, it taste like cold piss. Damn, that's some nasty-ass shit. I try to smile so he don't think I'm being rude or nothing, but my smile probably make me look like a mental patient, ‘cause all I really wanna do is gag.

Emiliano laugh and say, “Drink and you get, uh, you get use to it.”

“Nah, I ain't never gonna get used to that.” I'm kinda laughing too, but I still can't get the taste out my mouth. “You got water?
Agua?
”

He nod and I follow him to the kitchen. He hand me a bottle of water, and I'm, like, shit, tap woulda been good enough for me. I drink the whole bottle in one shot, and he stand there still laughing at me. “You funny,” he say. “You keeping drink Malta. You like it.”

I shake my head.

“You wanting coffee cakes?” He open one of the cabinets and he got all kinds of little donuts and cakes and shit in plastic wrappers.

Jasmine come back with a small duffel bag. “Don't let him give you no bread or coffee cakes,” she say. “He's always trying to give away all the bread and cakes he brings home from work.” She turn to Emiliano and probably tell him the same thing in Spanish, and they start laughing.

But he don't listen neither. Next thing I know, he packing up a loaf of bread and a whole bunch of cakes in a plastic shopping bag. “Take this,” he say to me. “Sweet and very good. You like.”

“
Gracias,
” I say. I ain't never heard of the brand of bread he got, but it's a Spanish name, so that's probably why. And them cakes do look kinda good too. I know my moms is gonna like them. She love her some donuts.

Before we leave, Emiliano pull out his big calendar and remind Jasmine ‘bout her appointments coming up. Whatever he say to her, Jasmine act real surprised. She even give him a big hug. Then he ask her something and the only word I understand is
Sabado.
Saturday. Jasmine tell him
sí,
and then we walk to the door. Me and Emiliano shake hands and, I gotta say, from what I see, he alright.

Emiliano reach in his pocket and hand Jasmine three twenties. Nice. They hug again and we leave, her with sixty dollars and a duffel bag. Me with a plastic bag of bread and cake. I ain't complaining.

“Why you ain't ask him if you could move back?” I ask Jasmine when we down in the lobby.

“I know him,” she say. “He's not gonna let me stay there
without Reyna. It's not gonna look right, him there alone with a teenage girl.”

“What he say ‘bout Saturday?”

“He's off on Saturdays, and he asked me to go to lunch with him at this diner all three of us used to go to every Saturday.”

“You gonna go?”

“Yeah. I think he wants to talk and make sure I'm okay. And you know what, he's still gonna pay for the dermatologist and orthodontist. I only have six more months ‘til these braces come off.” She smile.

“He a nice guy,” I tell her. “Why Reyna don't wanna be with him no more?”

“She thinks he's too controlling because he doesn't let her go to no parties or clubs. And my sister likes to wear short skirts and low-cut tops, but he doesn't like that. He wants her to be a classy lady. Like me.”

“Yeah, right.”

She start laughing. “You don't think I'm classy?”

Before I can say anything, my phone ring and I know without even looking that it's Novisha. I tell Jasmine to hold on for a minute and answer the phone. “Hello.”

“Ty, it's me.”

I look at my watch. “It's practically four thirty. You now getting home?”

“Yeah. I stopped by my mom's job and she put me to work. She had me sweeping and dusting like I don't work hard at school all day. What did you do today?”

“I worked. I'm on my way back to Bennett now.”

“I wish you were here right now.”

“Your moms ain't there?”

“No, she went shopping. Wait until you see how much she's cooking for you guys. We're gonna have fun tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” I tell her, even though I forgot all ‘bout that dinner thing.

“Is everything okay, Ty? You're hardly saying anything.”

“Nah, I'm a'ight. I'm just ‘bout to get on the train though.”

“Okay. I love you.”

Damn. Why she gotta say that when I standing here with Jasmine? But there ain't no getting outta it. “I love you too,” I whisper. Jasmine cover her mouth so Novisha can't hear her laughing. “See you tomorrow.”

When we hang up, Jasmine put her arm ‘round my waist. “You in love?”

I don't say nothing.

“What's happening tomorrow?”

“Novisha moms invited my family to dinner.” I shake my head ‘cause I know my moms, and she don't know how to act sometimes. I mean, there ain't no doubt in my mind that this dinner is gonna be bad. Real bad. A fuckin' nightmare.