Turning point, p.8
Turning Point, page 8
“Because you always frontin’,” Kita said.
Sheeda wanted to cosign. It was hard to explain. Sometimes Jalen was all right. But most times Jalen was irritating. Always bragging about things and people that Sheeda had a feeling weren’t real. But how would they know? They usually only hung out at church. Did he even have friends outside of First Bap? She stayed quiet, a spectator once again in the circle, as Jalen defended himself.
“Ain’t nobody frontin’, Kita. Nobody could come.” He raised his hands in a so what?
“Did you get a wristband already?” Yola asked, her eyes never leaving his face.
“Naw. Y’all?”
Makita got loud. “Of course we did. We been here almost a half hour already.”
“Come on. I go with you to the line,” Yola said.
They were barely a few feet away when Makita went off. “I knew he wasn’t bringing anybody. That’s why I wasn’t trying to wait all night for him.” She watched as the crowd swallowed Yola and Jalen. Sheeda recognized the hurt in her eyes and tried joking it off.
“At least we know who riding with who.”
Makita snorted. “Right.” She pointed to a ride. “Want to get on that one?”
“You don’t want to wait for Yola?”
Makita headed to the ride, no longer interested in Sheeda’s permission. While they waited in line, she stayed facing the ticket booth where Yola and Jalen were meshed together like conjoined twins. Her lips twisted into a pout. “No. ’Cause if Jalen doesn’t want to get on the ride then neither will she, and I’m not going to spend all night doing what he wants.”
Yola couldn’t have run off any faster than if somebody had shouted, one, two, three, go and popped one of those track guns. And yet, watching Yola snuggle up to Jalen made Sheeda think about Lennie. She wanted to feel the same buzzy friction jumping off Lennie’s skin while she looked up at him, grinning all wide. No way she’d say that to Kita, though. She played the middle.
“Jalen can get on my nerves, but it wouldn’t matter as much if he had brought some of his invisible friends, for real, for real.”
“Not his invisible friends, though.” Makita laughed, all along nodding in agreement. “But, yeah, true.”
“Yola did sort of dump us,” Sheeda said, then regretted speaking her mind.
“Not even sort of.” Makita looked like she’d bit into a sour candy. “Sis straight dipped.”
Sheeda played along. “Ghosted us to our face.”
Makita yelled toward the black sky, “Curbed us, lovely.”
Their cackling was lost in the piercing music of the ride. By the time they’d strapped in, Sheeda was genuinely glad she’d come. Three rides later she wasn’t so sure anymore.
Catching Up
Rah-Rah:
whatchu doing?
Mo’Betta:
not a thing. Lights out at 10:45.
Rah-Rah:
umph they tell ya’ll what time to go to bed?!
Mo’Betta:
I mean fr fr we just gotta be in our room at that time. I’m tired so not even mad.
Rah-Rah:
were u sleep?
Mo’Betta:
No. Me and Mila was just talking. We got our class placements and we not in the same level.
Rah-Rah:
Tell her I said hey. Wait. Y’all not in same level?!
Mo’Betta:
She said hey back. And no Her and our sweetmate Brenna in same class and me and Katie in same class.
Rah-Rah:
That’s good that you know somebody though. Right?
Mo’Betta:
I guess. You have a good time w/your Jesus friends at carnival?
Rah-Rah:
SMH some parts of it was cool.
But good time? Are u cool that y’all not in same class?
Mo’Betta:
TBH naw I’m not cool w/it. I can’t take nothin from her. I know she a good ballet dancer. I get it. But peep this—I’m in level 2x and she in 3x. There’s a level 3, so she TWO levels ahead of me. That ish is mad dunk.
Rah-Rah:
Oh no. wow. Whenever I see u and Mila dance together you be hanging right there w/her, tho.
Mo’Betta:
IKR exactly—I CAN hang w/Mila! But the instructors don’t think so. They so irky. Katie said sometimes they do move people up tho.
Rah-Rah:
I promised Tai we’d kick it at the rec. So, um for me to please!
Mo’Betta:
sending prayers up—dear lord give Sheeda the strength to ignore Tai’s shade, the courage to put Tai in her place and the wisdom to know when to do which one. Amen and halleluryah
Rah-Rah:
Amen Amen and AMEN
Mo’Betta:
Lemme go on bed. Mila knocked already. Good luck w/Taizzles.
Rah-Rah:
And I just screenshot that to show her. There will be immediate hate of the nickname
Mo’Betta:
I kno u kno better than to evah screenshot me, sis. Nite girl.
Rah-Rah:
Nite!
Monique
After only a few days, the faint stink of feet had made itself at home in their room. The bad news was, they couldn’t get rid of the smell. They sprayed the freshener when they left and the funk was waiting when they got back. The good news was, Katie and Brenna’s room smelled just as bad (maybe worse), and after a few minutes she’d be nose blind.
Her arms throbbed and her legs were spaghetti. All she wanted was a shower and to lie her head on a soft pillow. Her leotard was stuck to her. It was like wearing a swimsuit, only worse. The leos were so tight they dug into her leg.
Mila was on her bed, in a robe, chilling. Mo perked up, suspicious. Mila and Brenna had been back in the room for a good thirty minutes already. Mila should have been finished with her shower. The schedule said so.
Mo was the only one who didn’t think they needed a schedule for who took a shower first. It was four of them. Call first and let it rock from there.
“Why you not in the shower?” she asked like it didn’t matter. But even as Mila answered, “Bren got into the shower first. I’ll go next,” the blood raced, pushing the words out of her mouth at the same speed that it pulsed through her body.
“Mila, we did a whole schedule. What’s the point if everybody can shotgun their way in? You need to let her know not to do that again.” Her voice went from fierce whisper to purposely loud so Brenna could hear. “It’s your turn, period. Period, it’s your turn.”
The tiny crimp of her lip, like a hook lifted the corner, was Mila’s weak attempt at a smile. “It’s fine. For real.”
Mo knew the tone and look of Mila’s calm-down vibe from the many times Mila stepped in between her and Tai’s epic disagreements. At home, Mo usually backed down. She needed to do that now. Let Mila go ahead and sit there all sweaty and sticky, funking up her own comforter. But something about hearing the water running, knowing Mila was supposed to be in the shower, made Mo’s blood run hot.
She stormed into the bathroom, ignoring Mila’s pleas of “It’s not a big deal,” and stood outside the shower stall, yelling to be heard over the water.
“Brenna, you can’t be getting in the shower anytime you want. It was Mila’s turn.”
Brenna stuck her head out, full of shampoo. “What?”
The word raked against Mo’s nerves. If her and Lennie ever said “What?” to their mother, she shot off like a cannon about how rude it was. Now Mo saw why. The word was irritating. She lit into Breanna. “Why are you in the shower?”
Brenna squinted through the water dripping down her face. “Um, to get clean.”
“Okay, yup, that’s cute.” Mo stepped back to avoid the water dripping out of the stall. “It’s Mila’s turn to be in the shower first. You can’t just jump in whenever you want. Weren’t you the one who had the great idea of a schedule in the first place?”
Finally Brenna caught the anger in Mo’s voice. She stuck herself back into the stall, put her head under the water. Tiny tides of water hit the floor as she rinsed, quickly. She talked over the noise. “Sorry. I just jumped in. I didn’t mean to—” She turned off the water, still shouting to be heard. Her towel slid off the shower door. She came out, wrapped up, dripping everywhere. “My bad, Monique.”
Her suitemates stayed calling people by their full name. It annoyed her. It was like always talking to a teacher who refused to call you by anything else. She corrected her, “Mo.”
Brenna’s eyes lifted to the left, wondering what she’d said wrong. “My bad . . . Mo. I was so gross after class, I just jumped in.”
“We all gross after class.” Mo pointed to the handwritten schedule taped to the back of her and Mila’s door. “But the schedule is big as day.”
“No. You’re right. I didn’t even look.” Brenna stepped past her, tipping lightly so as not to slip. She was already apologizing as she entered their room. “Jamila . . . I mean, Mila, I’m sorry.”
Mila’s eyes slid away from Mo’s, but not before Mo saw the embarrassment.
“It’s okay,” Mila said, her smile at Brenna all but screaming please ignore my ghetto roommate. She grabbed her towel. “I was texting my dad anyway. I think he’s missing me.”
“Aww that’s cute. My dad is probably glad for the break.” Brenna laughed and her hair sprinkled the floor with droplets. “But, anyways, big promise, I’ll actually read the schedule now.”
It wasn’t enough for Mo. She’d lost thirty minutes of her life while they put the stupid schedule together—so durn right, they were gonna follow it. Why couldn’t Mila at least back her up on that? “How you not following a schedule you started?” she asked.
Mila’s exasperated sigh made it clear that Mo could stop talking at any time now. Mo threw her hands up. Fine. She was done. She sat down, hard, at her desk, refusing to sit her sweaty body on her comforter, just wanting Brenna to go back to her side of the bathroom.
Mo knew her suitemate was a little afraid of her. For one, the way she almost always directed what she said to Mila first. It annoyed Mo how she was always hugging or touching Mila, like they’d already known each other for months.
Mo knew her face was a little twisted sometimes. Only because any thought Mo had that she and Mila would catch up once in the room was always shattered by Brenna coming in. Even after a full day of being together, she made herself at home on Mila’s bed talking, wanting to play card games, or dragging Mila to somebody else’s room to “see something.”
Everything was “we,” like the four of them had to be together 24-7. Thankfully, Katie wasn’t the same. She’d come over sometimes, usually by Brenna’s invitation. It wasn’t that they didn’t have a good time talking about things that had gone on in class, comparing notes on what the teachers were saying to them about their technique and stuff—Mo just didn’t want to do it every day.
Everyone was getting close too fast.
Maybe she was the one tripping.
She didn’t want the girl scared of her, just follow your own stupid schedule. It was obvious her loud voice made Brenna nervous. She probably shouldn’t have based on her.
Once at dinner Mo had asked, loudly, how the cafeteria had run out of brownies. Brenna shoved hers over with the quickness. “You can have mine.”
Mo appreciated the offer, but she’d only asked a question. She wasn’t going to start a riot over the thing. Brenna, Katie, even Mila had looked at her like they were holding their breath, waiting for her to kirk over a daggone brownie. She couldn’t help that she talked loud. Or that she spoke up when somebody was being done wrong.
Just as she thought that, Brenna, damp body and all, came over and wrapped her arms around Mo’s shoulders. Her stringy wet hair plastered itself to Mo, some of it tickling her face.
Brenna playfully pleaded, “Don’t be mad. I’m not used to sharing a bathroom with anybody. Only-child probs.” She crossed her fingers. “Last time I forget.”
Mo wasn’t sure whether to be irked by how touchy-feely she was or glad that her goofiness was always nearby. She almost wanted to apologize, so Brenna knew they were cool. But an apology would mean she was wrong. And she hadn’t been.
She wasn’t going to apologize for standing up for herself and for people she cared about. It wasn’t something she could turn off.
Neither Brenna or Katie came back over that night. At first Mo was glad. Her ears didn’t mind the break from Brenna’s nonstop talking. And her and Katie were in classes together all day; they didn’t need to be together at night, too. She used the quiet to catch up with Sheeda.
Sharing a bathroom with three other people ain’t the move.
Rah-Rah:
LOL but it gotta be better than sharing w/your brothers
Mo’Betta:
oh true. Still. LoL I gotta lock the door cuz if I don’t Brenna just bust in there talking like its normal to be talking about how much her feet hurt while I’m butter butt balled nekkid in the shower.
Rah-Rah:
space, it’s a good thing
Mo’Betta:
Bruh, all good!!
She laughed to herself reading about the wack time Sheeda had at the carnival. For some reason, Mo could never keep up with who was who of Sheeda’s friends. Sheeda had probably told her their names a million times, and every time Mo wanted to ask, “Who?” She didn’t this time, letting Sheeda vent about the two girls she was stuck with and reminding her the time was already going by kind of fast. And speaking of time, it wasn’t until the RA knocked on the door, then stepped in to confirm both her and Mila were in the room, that it hit her that maybe Brenna had warned Katie away from their side of the bathroom.
Mo put her phone down, not sure how to feel about the new silence.
Mila had earbuds in and was reading a book. Mo wondered if she was mad. But didn’t want to know bad enough to ask. All she had been doing was trying to make sure nobody thought they could roll over them. It hurt her that Mila had seemed embarrassed.
Mo wanted to remind her that Mila never minded Mo sticking up for her when Tai got on everybody’s nerves or when Simp said something stupid like how Mila was skinny enough to hide behind the streetlight. But she didn’t.
If Mila was fine with suitemates that never knocked, the stupid shower schedule and people not following it, that was on her. Mo couldn’t roll with things that easily.
After a while, Mila nodded off. Mo listened to her soft breaths. She could never drift right off. No matter how tired Mo was, it always took her body a little while to realize it was finally time to stop turning and leaping across the floor. Then another few minutes to remember she wasn’t home. Then more time still to get used to how dark and quiet it was.
There was a safety light behind her row house to keep people from dealing drugs in the woods. The only thing it succeeded in doing was filtering into Mo’s room enough for her to read the poster she had on her door, a gift from Sheeda’s Auntie D when they all joined La May that had a dancer in a flowing white Praise skirt, mid-leap and read: Let them praise His name with dancing.
Mo had never slept in a totally dark room until now and was glad for the block of light from the hall creeping under their door.
She lay in the dark room, her mind processing like a software program, going over things she’d heard during the day. Things she’d said or did. Katie was the only person she knew in her class. For real, she didn’t want to know anybody else. They were there to dance. She didn’t let herself think about what she’d do when Katie made other friends.
When, because it was going to happen. She needed to be ready to have nobody to talk to.
The silence in the room helped her imagine going all day without talking to anybody.
The only noises were Mila’s breathing, murmurs from across the bathroom as Brenna talked Katie to sleep—because she thought whispering was basically not shouting, and the RA’s heavy footsteps as they walked down the hall doing room checks. Eventually, when those sounds stopped, there was nothing else. Mo popped in her earbuds and let the darkness overtake her until the music lulled her to sleep.
Rasheeda
Sheeda wasn’t in the best mood. The carnival had been a disaster. She’d held back complaining too much to Mo. Sounded like she was already dealing with too much at the intensive. So Sheeda had only told her that it hadn’t been as much fun as when they all went to the carnival.
Truth was, things were a mess.
When Kita had refused to answer Yola in the group chat, Yola had gotten angry. She’d even threatened to call her mother to tell her they’d left her. Never mind that she was the one who had dipped on them. Still, the claim had made Sheeda nervous—Auntie D would never let her do anything if she couldn’t go out without drama with her church friends. Then Kita had rolled her eyes and said, “Let her tell her then.” All Sheeda could do was roll with the flow.
At one point, Yola had walked by where they were eating. Sheeda waited for Kita to call out to her. When she didn’t, Sheeda had stayed quiet, too. When Yola walked past a second time, she’d finally seen them. She came over, short legs pumping, asking why nobody had answered her. As the two of them bickered, Jalen and Sheeda had stood there, awkward bystanders.
Sheeda hoped they would smooth it out once they got to Yola’s, but Kita had called her mother, saying her stomach hurt and asking to be picked up. Yola had been hot and kept saying Kita was just jealous. She ragged on her for the longest time, then proceeded to ignore Sheeda the rest of the night as she texted Jalen.
Sheeda hadn’t taken anybody’s side but still caught Yola’s heat.
And now, she was taking plenty of her own heat from Tai.
Sitting on Sheeda’s front stoop, words tumbled out of Tai’s mouth like she’d been saving them up for this one moment. They were a gnat in Sheeda’s ear as she texted the talking head emoji and the eye-rolling emoji to Mo. She waited for Mo to answer. Ten minutes later, still nothing. No doubt, she was in class.
The neighborhood pulsed with people. It always did near Sheeda’s row house that stood beside the main road of the hood—the rec center to their front, the basketball courts to their back. Sheeda could clock half the nabe coming and going. She loved people watching, especially today. It gave her something to do while Tai laid her out.
