Upgrade U (17 page)

“Seven, I’m trying to get into the NBA and that’s for the both of us. Do you know how upgraded you’ll be? People already look at you differently knowing that you’re the girl of point guard number twenty-three—”

“And that’s the problem. I was the girl of point guard number twenty-three and not Josiah. Josiah would’ve never done this to me, but you, Mr. Wannabe Kobe or Dying to Be Shaq, whichever fits, are a horrible boyfriend.
So how about this, since I’m not your everything, how about I’ll be nothing.”

“Seven, I’m not leaving here until you hear me out.”

“Can you walk and talk at the same time? Because I have something to do.”

“Oh, it’s like that?”

“What, did I forget to tell you? If so, then yes, it’s like that.”

“Seven—”

“Isn’t this what you wanted? Now I’m giving it to you, go call up that chick and see if y’all can chill. ‘Cause public service announcement: I’m doing me,” I said as a soft knock hit against the door. “Come in.”

“Seven, I’m not done talking to you.”

“Is everything a’ight, Seven?” Zaire looked concerned as he entered from behind the door. “I heard yelling so I didn’t know.”

“I’m fine and point guard number twenty-three was just leaving.”

“Wassup with this?” Josiah turned to Zaire and looked him over.

Zaire looked at Josiah as if he were dismissable.

I walked over to Zaire, stood next to him, and faced Josiah. “I told you I had something to do. Now, if you’ll step to the left, Mr. Point Guard, I’ll be needing to lock my room up.”

“Seven,” Josiah said, “are you serious?”

“Dead serious.”

Josiah looked at Zaire and said, “You’ll see me again.”

“You know me, Josiah, so you know it’s whatever, whenever.”

Josiah didn’t respond, instead he stormed out. “You know Josiah?” I asked Zaire.

“We had a class together,” Zaire said a little too quickly. “Now are you sure you’re all right?”

“Yeah.” My face lit up. “I’m fine.” I grabbed Zaire’s hand and he kissed me on my forehead. “So what you wanna eat?”

“Ummm … I was thinking, maybe we need to see what Big-Maw’s cooking.”

I can’t leave ‘em alone
I tried that good boy game …

—C
IARA FT
. 50 C
ENT
, “C
AN’T
L
EAVE
‘E
M
A
LONE”

“I
’m not going home for Thanksgiving.” I shook my

head in disgust, as we sat in the caf eating lunch.

“Why?” Shae asked, completely surprised. “We haven’t been home in eons.” She sipped her soda.

“My mother would have a fit,” Khya spat. “Do you know how much my moms be on my phone with a buncha, ‘Khya, whatcha doings?’ And I have to tell her, ‘The same thing I was doing five minutes ago when you called me.’ Geez. So imagine if I don’t show up for the holiday? That chick would trip so hard she’d probably start crippin’.”

“Daaaaaang,”
Courtney said. “I see the loco apple don’t fall too far from the nut tree, huh?”

Khya squinted her eyes tight and spat, “One day, Courtney, I’ma just steal on you, chop you right in the throat.”

“I turn you on, don’t I, Khya?” Courtney growled. “One day you’re throwing yourself at me, telling me I can be king of the world, and the next day you want to take my head off. I make your wild oats soar, don’t I? That’s why
you want to come for my throat so you can be close to my lips.”

“Gagging.” Khya stuck her index finger in her mouth.

Courtney blew air kisses at Khya. “One day we should get married just to say we did it.” He took the end of his boa and flung it at Khya. “If you want me come to my room tonight and get me.”

Shae did all she could not to spit her soda out of her mouth. “You get a little too carried away, Courtney. Any-who, how come you’re not going home, Seven?”

“Because, you know my mother’s finances aren’t what they used to be, so she called and told me this morning that Cousin Shake would be driving here to pick me and Lil Bootsy up and that he and Miss Minnie would be bringing us back. And that ain’t going down, round.”

“Why not?” Khya frowned.

“Khya, first of all Lil Bootsy needs a booster seat and I am not about to ride all those hours with an angry Midget Mac. And second of all Cousin Shake drives a tricked-out hearse—”

“With leopard upholstery,” Shae interjected.

“And baby shoes swinging around the mirror. Don’t nobody rock baby shoes around their mirror anymore.” I shook my head.

“And,” Shae said, “his CD player is stuck on the best of MC Hammer.”

“Oh wow, well umm”—Khya blinked in disbelief—“you can always come to Texas with me.”

“Awwl, thanks, Khya, but I’ll be okay. The Big Easy will take care of me.”

“Well, I’ll stay with you, Seven,” Shae volunteered.

“You know what?” Khya said. “I’ll stay too. I’ll tell my
mom that I want to be in New Orleans for the Thanksgiving Day Parade. She’ll understand.”

“Well, don’t look at me,” Courtney said, “’cause I’m going home. I need to eat some of my mama’s hogmawls, pig knuckles, baked chicken gizzards, and sweet potato pie. I like y’all and all, but hmph, it’s one thing to put up with you at school but during the holidays? Skip that.”

“You are so rude,” Khya snapped at Courtney.

“You wanna see me naked, don’t you?” Courtney winked at Khya. “Two snaps up and a fruit loop, girl, the things I would do to you.”

“Wassup, Seven?” jumped its way over to our table, causing our conversation to come to a halt.

I didn’t have to look in the direction of the annoying voice to know that it was Josiah. I cut my eye over at him, flicked him a “Hi” and turned back to my crew. “Maybe for winter break—”

“It’s like that, Seven? I can’t even hollah at you for a minute? I used to be able to talk to you about anything. We used to be best friends.”

I rolled my eyes and turned toward Josiah. “You said hi and I waved. What more do you want?”

“I would like to speak to you for a minute.” He paused and when he saw I wasn’t moving he said, “Please.”

I sighed. “Give me a minute,” I said to my friends. Josiah and I stepped to a secluded corner of the room. “What?” I snapped. “What is it?”

He looked me over and smiled. “You look good.”

Silence.

“You know I always loved that little crease that ran across your nose when you were mad at me.”

“Okay, time’s up.” I turned back toward my friends.

“Nah, wait,” Josiah said. “Just give me a minute.”

“I don’t have any more minutes to give you.”

“Seven, just hear me out.”

“What …” I said slowly, “do … you … want?”

“Wassup with you and your new man?”

I stood stunned. “Have you lost all control? You called me over here for this?”

“Yeah, wassup with him?”

“Trust, communication, fidelity, love. Now, big pimpin’, wassup with you and your fleet of girlz?”

“I don’t have a fleet and I don’t have a girl. You’re the only one who could ever wear the title of being my girl.”

“O … M … G … I’m done.” I turned away.

“Seven—”

“What?”

“You need to be careful.”

“Of what? You stalking me?”

“Nah, of your boy, I heard he’s a rubber-band man.”

“What … are you talking about?” I said, clearly annoyed.

“I heard he’s living that trap life. You know movin’ illegal weight.”

I paused and then I spat, “You are such a hater.”

“I’m not hatin’ on him. Hell, he stole my girl.”

“I’m done with this conversation, okay. Now run along”—I flicked my hand—“and go play with your little two-dollar tricks, because Seven is busy.”

I know it may have been pouring it on extra thick, but I have to admit that when I glided away from Josiah, I was sure to put a little extra motion in my ocean. “What was that about?” Shae asked when I sat back down.

“Nothing. He’s trippin’.”

“Oh really?” Courtney said, sliding out of his seat. “Well,
let me see if I can find him, in case he needs somebody to console him.”

“What are we going to do for Thanksgiving if we don’t go home?” Khya asked as we walked back to our dorm from the caf.

“You’ll come with me over to Zaire’s grandmother’s house,” I said.

“Maw-Maw’s?” Khya’s face lit up. “She gon’ cook?”

“Yeah, and he calls her Big-Maw.”

“Honey, Big-Maw, Maw-Maw, just let me in the doe’,” Khya said in an extremely enhanced southern accent. “I don’t even know this lady and I can’t wait to eat her food.”

“Well, I sure hope it’s good,” Shae said to Khya, “or it’s obvious you’ll be a wreck.”

“Chile, a N’awlins grandmamma that can’t cook would tear me apart—hey, Seven.” She pointed. “Is that your boo?”

I looked up and Zaire was in the parking lot, leaned against his truck with some chick dead up in his face. Suddenly I felt stupid and I hated that my mind kept saying,
Not again. Not again.

“Who is that he’s talking to?” Khya asked.

“I don’t know and I don’t care,” I said nonchalantly. “So it’s whatever.” I turned toward the way of our dorm.

“You’re not going to go over there and speak to your man?” Khya said.

“First off he’s not my man, we’re just kickin’ it. Homies. And heck no, I’m not going over there.” I struggled to play my hurt feelings off. “For what? I’m not on it like that. Heck, I just met him yesterday.”

“Y’all been kicking it for a month,” Shae interjected. “And just because he’s talking to a chick doesn’t mean that
she’s more than a friend or an acquaintance. Plus, Seven, he’s looking over here.”

“That’s nice.” I continued to walk away.

“Seven,” Shae called, “he’s calling you.”

“Girl, bye, do I look crazy? I am so not the one.” I walked quickly to the dorm and left them trailing behind me.

“You trippin’,” Shae said as she and Khya walked into the room a few minutes after me.

“I’m far from trippin’. I’m just keeping it real.”

“Based on what, though?” Khya said, confused. “Josiah?”

“This has nothing to do with Josiah,” I said confidently. “This has to do with Seven. And Seven is not about to put up with mess.”

“But the boy didn’t do anything,” Khya said in disbelief.

“He had some chick in his face.” My eyes popped out. “He was all in the parking lot kicking it to her, and after what I just went through, you think I’ma ignore that? Nah, not me.”

“But true story though, Seven. Zaire put his feelings out there and you said y’all were homies, so like, he really doesn’t owe you any explanation about who he talks to.”

“Sho’ right, Shae,” Khya spat. “I bet you you’ll be slow about assigning crazy titles from now on out won’t you, Seven?”

I flicked my hand. “Whatever,” I said as my cell phone rang. I looked at the caller ID. It was Zaire and I nicely pressed
ignore.

“On that note,” Shae said, “who’s up for walking down to Bourbon Street?”

“You know I’m down.” Khya smiled.

“I’ll go too, as long as you two leave the Zaire convo alone,” I said as my phone rang again. Of course it was Zaire and I sent his call where? You got it: to voice mail.

“Seven?” Khya asked, “Was that Zaire?”

“Yep.”

“Oh, so you have just turned into the mad black woman, huh?”

“Whatever.” Zaire called a few more times back to back, and each time I ignored his calls. “Look, can we leave now?” I asked.

“Sure wish I could go to Bourbon Street.” Courtney pounded on the wall.

“Oh boy,” Shae said, exhausted. “Come on, Courtney!”

“Huh?” Courtney responded and I could only imagine him batting his lashes. “Did somebody call me?”

“Do you wanna come with us?”

“Awwl, that’s so sweet, Shae,” he said. “Sure, I’ll go if you insist.”

I chuckled as someone knocked on the door. “Come in,” I said.

The door opened and Khya stuttered, “Hey, cutie—I mean strapping—I mean lil daddy. Dang, I keep messing your name up.”

“Zaire,” he said.

“Yeah, hey, Zaire.”

“Wassup, ma?” He nodded at Khya and then to Shae.

“Is Chaz with you?” Khya asked.

“Nah, I think he may still be at practice,” Zaire said, never taking his eyes from me. “Seven, I need to speak to you for a minute.”

“Yeah,” Shae said, “y’all handle that. Come on, Khya and Courtney, it’s time to roll.” Shae walked past me and whispered, “His name is Zaire, not Josiah.”

“So you three are just going to leave me, right?” I asked in disbelief.

“Bye-bye,” Shae mouthed to me and blew me a kiss. “Behave.”

The door closed behind them, and instead of looking directly at Zaire, I picked up a fashion magazine and thumbed through it. “So wassup?”

“Did you see me standing in the parking lot?” Zaire asked.

“Yep,” I said, as I continued to look through the magazine. “Oule, I think I’ma get these shoes.” I tapped my index finger on the page.

“Did you hear me calling you?”

“Oule, I like these jeans.”

“Seven—”

“Hmm?” I leafed through the pages.

“Are you listening to me?”

“Yeah, I hear you.”

“I would like for you to look at me when I’m speaking to you.”

I looked up and quickly diverted my eyes from his face. “I’m listening.”

He walked over to me, softly placed his hand on my chin, and turned my face in his direction. “I’m Zaire, not Josiah.”

“Really?” I blinked twice. “ ‘Cause the way you had that chick all up in your face, you two surely looked a lot alike to me.”

“Check it, if I was kicking it with the chick standing at my truck or anybody else, I would be straight up and tell you—”

I twisted my lips. “You would tell me?”

“Hell, yeah, what I need to lie to my homie for?”

I rolled my eyes.

“Listen, see this whole conversation we’re having is not something I’ma keep having with you. That girl I was talking to is someone I have a class with. Period. I missed class the other day; she made me a copy of her notes and gave them to me. That’s it. Now if you have a problem with the situation and the label that you gave us, then you clean it up. I already told you how I felt about you too many times to count. But you’re holding our life together hostage over something Josiah did.”

“That’s not true!”

“Then what do you call it?”

“How do you think I felt when I saw you with that girl today?”

“Love, I would never disrespect you by kicking it to some chick on campus of all places. As a matter of fact, you’re the only one I’m kicking it to period. I don’t think about anybody else but you. So I tell you what, when you get yourself together you call me; ‘cause I don’t wanna be your homie anymore. I’m done playing with that.” He took two steps back.

“Well, then you have to do what you have to do.”

“You still acting tough, huh? Even though it’s obvious that’s not how you feel.”

Silence.

“A’ight, if you cool wit’ it, then I am too.”

“Yup, I’m straight.”

“That’s wassup.” He gave me a pound and turned toward the door.

He placed his hand on the doorknob and I said, “Wait.” I swallowed. “Don’t go.” The sound of my voice was so low it was practically a whisper.

“I’m through with waiting,” he said.

“Zaire, it’s soooo hard moving past hurt and trusting someone new.”

“Seven, have I given you a reason to think I would hurt you? That I would lie to you?”

I shook my head no.

“Then judge me on my own merit, not your ex-boyfriend’s.”

“How do I do that”—I bit into my bottom lip and walked over to Zaire—“when I’m scared that the same thing is going to happen to me all over again.”

“Just let me love you.” He pressed his lips against mine. “Dump the homie title, pick up the one that says you’re my girl, and we can conquer the world from there.”

My heart had said yes right away, but my mind and mouth were stuck on pause and what-ifs. I knew I needed to push past it … but how …?

“Just trust me,” he whispered against my lips. “And let me love you.”

“Okay,” I said as we started to kiss, “I will.”