Read Getting Played Online

Authors: Celeste O. Norfleet

Getting Played (5 page)

We change out of our street sneakers and start dancing. The music's rhythm goes hard. It energizes us. We dance our routine, something we've been working on for a few weeks. When it's good enough, we're gonna show it to Gayle Harmon for one of the dance videos she choreographs. So we dance and play around and try out some new stuff Diamond came up with. Jalisa and I both add on to it. It's really starting to look good. Seriously, it's really hot.
Some dance instructors from downstairs come up to see us, including Ms. Jay, the studio manager.

They are cheering and applauding by the time we really get into it. I had gotten my sister's fiancé, Tyrece Grant, to do the music, so it was dope. We are all three doing the same step, but to a different downbeat, with different timing and different dance styles. I have on my dance sneaks, Diamond has on ballet slippers, and Jalisa has on her tap shoes. We are hot. When the music ends we have like half the school upstairs in the studio with us. They are applauding and cheering. I usually don't like the whole in-front-of-a-crowd, audience-recital thing, but this time I really like the attention. It feels great.

So we leave about two hours later. It's dark outside now, and I'm happy Diamond drove her car. We decide to stop at Giorgio's Pizza Place before going home. We eat a slice and then share a cookie like we always do. “Okay, enough of this. So, you gonna say something or what?” Jalisa asks me all of a sudden. Diamond and I look at her. I have no idea what she's talking about and apparently neither does Diamond.

“Say something about what?” I ask her.

“Please, girl, don't be acting like we didn't see all that before,” she says.

Okay, I'm not fakin'. I look at her completely stumped. I swear, I have no idea what she's talking about.

“What's up with you and lawn mower guy?” Jalisa asks.

“Jalisa,” Diamond says, hitting her arm.

“What, I'm just asking—it's not like we didn't see that.”

I shrug. “Nah, it's okay. To tell you the truth, I don't really know what's up with him. He's acting all strange now. Maybe it's school drama, I don't know.”

“Is it because of that jerk Darien?” Diamond asks quietly.

“Darien?” I ask. She nods tentatively. I shrug again. “I don't know, maybe. But he was okay with everything right after it happened. The next morning we were out walking and talking. Now all of a sudden he's all mad at me. I don't know.” I shrug again.

“Can't you get him to talk about it?” Jalisa asks.

“Yeah, maybe talking will help,” Diamond adds.

“I keep asking him, but he won't talk. He keeps saying everything's fine, when I know it's not. It's just messed up. I know he's got something going on.”

“Guys are weird anyway,” Jalisa says, looking at Diamond. I look at both of them, knowing something is up. They know I am gonna ask, so Jalisa says it before I do. “I broke up with Isaac the other day. He was trippin', acting all jealous like he owns me or something.”

“He hit her,” Diamond says.

“He did what?” I say, too loud and completely shocked. The insides of me start shaking. This is scary. I've been around abusers before. My mom was a hitter. She'd slap someone in a hot minute. Then Darien was a bully, and I knew, given the opportunity, he'd try something stupid. What he tried to do was beyond abuse. But I never knew a girl who actually got hit by a guy before.

“He hit me,” Jalisa says.

“Oh, my God, Jalisa, are you okay?” I ask quickly. “Did he ever hit you before?”

She nods. “Yeah, he did it before. But not hit me. He got mad once and pushed me and then another time he grabbed my arm really tight and left a mark. But I didn't say anything to anybody, 'cause I thought it was my fault.” She looks away. Diamond grabs and holds her hand. It is obvious she already knew about all this.

“When did this happen?” I ask.

“A couple of weeks ago,” Jalisa says.

“Why didn't you tell me?” I ask both of them. They don't say anything at first. All of a sudden I am feeling completely left out. Jalisa needed me and nobody said a word. They look at each other, so I ask again. “Why didn't you tell me?” I insist.

“We didn't say anything to you 'cause you were trippin'. It was right after that party we went to at your friend's house down the street, remember. You were hanging out and partying with that Darien guy, so I didn't want to say anything to you. But it's all right now. Everything's copasetic. I told Isaac I didn't want to see him anymore.”

“I'm sorry, Jalisa,” I say sorrowfully. They were right. I was into my own thing and believing what Darien was telling me. “After you told him, what did he say?” I ask, starting to feel really bad that I wasn't there for my friend.

“Nothing. What could he say? He was like, ‘whatever.' He told me I was a tease 'cause I wouldn't have sex with him. You know what, I'm glad I didn't 'cause he's an asshole.
He stopped speaking. Big deal, what a joke, I can't believe I was actually into him like that.”

“Forget him,” Diamond says. I nod in agreement.

After that we don't say much more about it. We get started talking about surface things, school, homework, music, clothes and things like that. I'm listening to Jalisa and Diamond, but still wondering about Terrence and what Isaac did to Jalisa. We're just about to leave when I see Ursula walk in. I reintroduce her to Jalisa and Diamond, even though they already met at the party she had at her house last month. We all start talking. “So, what are you doing here this late?” I ask her.

“Picking up my paycheck,” she says.

“You work here?” I ask surprised, 'cause I don't remember seeing her here before.

“Yeah, I just got the job a few weeks ago. I usually work weekends. Sierra hooked me up. I think they still need somebody if you're interested.”

“Nah, I'll pass,” I say. Seriously, the last thing I want to be doing is smelling like somebody's pizza every week end.

“You should try it. It's not that bad. Actually, it's pretty cool,” Ursula says.

“I'll think about it,” I say, knowing damn well I have no intention of working in somebody's stinky pizza place.

“A'ight, take care,” she says.

“You need a ride home?” Diamond asks Ursula.

“Nah, thanks anyway. Sierra's meeting me.”

“Okay, see you later,” I say. Then we head out. Diamond drops me off at my grandmother's house.

“Are you staying at your dad's house this weekend?”

“Yeah, I need to talk to him about school. I think he's avoiding me, so that means I need to camp out at the house until he comes home.”

“You want to go over there tonight?”

“Nah, a friend of my grandmother's just died. I was gonna hang around here and then head over to my dad's tomorrow. I'm a go to his office first. He's usually there hiding from Courtney Saturday mornings.” I get out of the car.

“A'ight, we're hanging at the mall tomorrow night.”

“Cool, I'll see ya'll there,” I say. I hurry up the steps to the porch as they drive away. I stay outside a few minutes watching until I see the red taillight turn the corner. I turn around and look at Terrence's porch. There's nobody outside and his car is gone. I decide to text him. No surprise, he doesn't answer, so I just go inside.

As soon as I do I stop 'cause something seems different. I don't know what it is, but something's off. I look around the living room and dining room, then go into the kitchen. The first thing I see is the back door open. I know that is wrong. My grandmother always locks the house up when she goes out. But she did look troubled before, so maybe she forgot. I walk to the open door and look outside. There is no one around, so I close and lock the door.

It's around ten-thirty. My grandmother isn't home yet, so I just go to my room. I get on Facebook and write on some of my friends' walls. Then I hit MySpace and post about dancing. Afterward, I tweet a quick update and then email my sister, Jade. She is online, so we IM for about ten minutes.

I go downstairs to get a piece of cake. Then I stop in the
living room to turn the lights on, knowing that my grandmother will be in soon. As I head back upstairs, I hear the key in the latch and turn around. She walks in the door. I don't think she saw me. She looks tired and weary. “Hi, Grandmom. You okay?”

She looks up, seeing me on the steps. She smiles. “Kenisha, I thought you'd still be out with your friends, or in Virginia.”

“Nah, I didn't feel like hanging out late. How was your night?” I ask. It's a stupid question, I know, but still it seems okay to ask. “How's Ms. Lottie?”

“She's all broken up, poor baby. Thank God her granddaughter came home to be with her. I don't know what she would have done if she hadn't. Gia is such a sweet girl.”

Gia?
I look up. That damn name has been popping in my world all day. “Who's Gia?” I ask my grandmother, knowing she'll tell me something.

“Gia Henderson used to come stay the summers with her grandmother. Her parents live somewhere outside of Baltimore now. They used to live in Atlanta I think. She's a sweet girl like her mother. We had a nice talk this evening. She goes to Howard, you know. This is her second year.”

“You talked with her?”

“Yes, of course. She's staying with her grandmother for the next few days. She'll be a comfort. Charlotte is taking her brother's passing pretty hard.”

“I think I'll go over tomorrow,” I say.

My grandmother looks at me and smiles warmly. “That would be nice. I'm sure she'll appreciate that.”

“Okay,” I say, acting like I'm all right with all this. I don't
think I really am. The thing is, I don't know this Gia, and just meeting her today like that wasn't all that cool. It was obvious she and Terrence had something. I don't know what it was or is, but it's something. “Can I get you something, Grandmom?”

“No, sweetie, I'm fine. Is Jade here yet?” she asks.

“No, is she coming home this weekend? I just talked to her.”

“How did she sound?”

“I mean I didn't actually talk to her, I instant messaged her.”

She shakes her head. “Good Lord, I don't know how you young people think you're communicating with people when you use those computers and cell phones. You have to do more than type in a few words. You need to talk to people, not type at them.”

“One of these days I'm gonna get you to text message on your cell phone and to email on the computer.”

She laughs. It is the first time I heard her laugh all day. “In your dreams, sweetie, and speaking of dreams, I need to carry myself to bed. I've got an early day tomorrow.”

My grandmom and I talk about her friend again and then me at the dance studio. After that we head up to bed. It was a long day with a lot of nothing going on. Hopefully tomorrow will be better.

CHAPTER 5

Is It Me Or What?

“There's no place like home. I used to think Dorothy from
The Wizard of Oz
had the right idea. Click my heels three times and everything would be perfect. Right? Wrong! This isn't Kansas and this definitely isn't my home.”

—Tumblr.com

It's
early Saturday morning and I head out first thing. It rained late last night, so the air smells really good, all fresh and clean. The clouds are still heavy, like it's about to rain again. I could skip it and stay in today, but I've been waiting for this all week. It's relaxing, it's invigorating and it's freedom.

Terrence turned me on to it and now I love it. It's like a drug, but you don't pay for it and you don't get high or anything. You get exhausted and you think. My music plays, but the sound of my breathing and my heartbeat is really what keeps me going. My feet pound the hard pavement, and I don't see anybody or anything. There's no destination, only the run in progress. So, I keep running.

So many things go through my head as I run. My hopes, my dreams, my regrets, they all come to me. I hope and dream all the time, but it's the regrets that always stay with me. I have a lot of them, and they go way back, back to my mom and her handful of pills, back to my sister who was my cousin all my life, back to my sometimes boyfriend Terrence, lawn mower guy, who I messed over big time. I know I can't change the past. I can only do what I can right now to make the future better.

I text messaged lawn mower guy three times last night. He didn't return any of my messages. I know I'm thinking about him way too much, and that's getting on my nerves. I've never let a guy get to me before. I wasn't even this attached to LaVon, my ex. I don't know why I'm trippin' about it now. He's just a guy, no big deal. I can do without him.

It starts to drizzle, so I turn the corner and keep running, heading back to my grandmother's house. My song comes on. I start smiling. It's a Tyrece jam and it's kinda like the music we danced to last night. The beat is pulsating and perfect for dancing and running. I turn the last corner heading back, and I see Li'l T across the street. He waves and says something. I can't hear him. I drop one of my earbuds to listen to what he's saying. “Hey, Kenisha, what's up, what you doing out this early?”

I nod and wave. He's with his boys already. “I'm running,” I say, stating the obvious.

“From who?” he jokes.

Not funny. “What are you doing up? You just getting in from hanging out all night?” I ask him.

He smiles, loving it, like he really was out all night. “You know that's right,” he says. His boys are dutifully impressed. “You going to VA today?”

“Yeah, later.”

“Tell my girls I said call me.”

There's no way I can answer that with a straight face. So I just wave and keep running. I smile, thinking about a few weeks ago when I punched him in the eye. Of course, it was an accident. I didn't know it was him. I was so mad. I was punching anyone around me. He just happened to be in the way. I get back to my grandmother's house and head up the front steps.

My body is weak and drained. My legs feel like rubber, but it's a good feeling and I'm energized. It's really starting to rain now. I hurry up the steps to the porch. Then as soon as I walk in the front door I head to the kitchen for some water. My grandmother's there. She's sitting at the table going through her bills. “Good morning, Grandmom.”

“Good morning,” she says, as she quickly glances over her shoulder. “How was your run this morning?”

“It was good. It started drizzling, so I cut it short.” I grab a glass and get some water, then plop down in the chair across from her. I watch as she begins gathering her bills together. There are a lot, more than I expected to see. I notice there are several from a Health Institute. “What's all this?” I ask.

“They're bills.”

“No, these—Northern Virginia Health Institute—what are they?”

“Now didn't you just answer your own question? They're hospital bills.”

“I know that, but why do you have them? Have you been in this hospital?”

“I guess I've been in and out of just about every hospital in the area.”

I know she didn't answer my question. Sometimes she does that and sometimes I just drop it, but not today, not now. I want to know what's up. “I mean are you sick?” I ask. The suddenness of having asked the question caught me off guard. Now I don't know if I'm ready to hear the answer.

“I guess I'm about as sick as the next person, I suppose.”

“That's still not an answer, Grandmom,” I say seriously. It's obvious she is avoiding the question. “Are you sick?”

“Don't worry about me, sweetie. Now, what time are you headed to your father's house today?” she asks, as she continues putting the bills away into a large envelope.

“Um, later this morning,” I say.

“All right, I'm heading out in about an hour. I can drop you off if you want. Why don't you go up and get ready?”

I nod, then get up and leave. I'm no fool. I know she still didn't answer my question. I turn around and look back at her. She stands up and goes to the kitchen window. She's looking out. I'm not sure what kind of expression she has, but I get the feeling something's up. I go upstairs, take a quick shower and then change. Fifty-five minutes later, I head
back downstairs and look around. If we're going out, my grandmother is always on time and ready. But she's not.

I go back in the kitchen and see her still standing at the window looking out. “Grandmom, are you okay?”

“Yes, I'm fine, just thinking.” She turns and half smiles. “Are you ready to go?”

I nod, seeing she's been crying. My heart won't let me ask her again.

It rains the rest of the day. I'm not talking about that little bit of stuff that comes down in a mist. No, I'm talking about that heavy rain where you can barely get the windshield wipers to go fast enough. We went to my dad's office first and then we drove to Virginia. Since nobody was there, she dropped me at my dad's house, and I hurry to the front door and ring the bell.

It still drives me crazy that I have to ring the bell at my own house. I wait a few seconds. No one answers. I can hear the television inside blasting. I ring the bell a couple more times. There's still no answer. Next, I try the door knob. It turns. As soon as I open the door, I realize it's not the television blasting. It's Courtney.

She's upstairs screaming her head off as usual. I go in and listen at the bottom of the stairs for a minute to hear who she's yelling at. I should have guessed. It's my dad. And I can just imagine what the argument is about—money, other women and me. It's her standard trifecta when it comes to their fights, although not necessarily in that order.

Simply put, Courtney wants my dad's money. My dad gives her just enough to take care of the house, no more. She hates that. She knows my mom got whatever she wanted.
Then there are the other women. Courtney wants my dad to be faithful. That's really not gonna happen. And then there's the third one, me. She hates me. That's okay, 'cause I hate her ass, too. I don't know what my dad expected to happen when he introduced us. Me to like her? She's in my house trying to take over—did he really expect best friends? It wasn't gonna happen. Then, after I slapped her, it was really on.

All of a sudden the argument gets really loud. I know postpartum is supposed to be a bitch, but seriously, who could tell the difference with Courtney's crazy-ass. She's a raging, screaming lunatic most of the time. Apparently today is no different. Either way, I don't feel like being bothered, so I go to the family room beside the kitchen and see if the boys are around. They usually hide there when my dad and Courtney argue. I told them to turn the TV up really loud, so they're usually parked in front of the television with a DVD. Today they're not.

I head back to the front of the house, then cut through the living room to go to my father's home office. I once found the boys hiding under my dad's desk. I think that's when we started getting close. I remember looking under the desk and seeing their big brown eyes staring back at me. They were petrified. It reminded me of myself. I hated it when my parents argued. After that, the boys and I became close. I was their big sister and their hero. I liked that. Also, the office is where I usually hang out when I come here. It kind of reminds me of my old house before everything changed.

The rest of the house was cluttered with a mass of cheap
bargain basement furniture. I guess Courtney thought if she had more stuff scattered around, you wouldn't notice how cheap it all looked. She was wrong. The place looked a hot mess. All but my dad's office—that was nice. It looks almost the same as it did when I lived here with my mom. I open the office door and walk in and then stop instantly. There's this guy with music earbuds on sitting at my dad's desk.

I stand there and watch him for a minute or two, more 'cause I'm just shocked to see him there than anything else. He's tall and light-skinned and looks a little like my dad. The first thing I think is, damn, I have another brother. But then I know that isn't right. He looks too old. He has to be like about twenty. So, he's just sitting there going through my dad's computer like he owns the place. He hasn't noticed me yet. His eyes are glued to the screen. Whatever he's doing on the computer, he's really into it.

Then he looks up and sees me. His eyes widen in surprise. I know I startled him. Still, he has this annoyed expression on his face, like I'm interrupting him or something. He pulls out one earbud and presses a key on the keyboard. I look at him, waiting for him to say something. He doesn't, so I do. “Who the hell are you and what are you doing?” I ask indignantly.

“Who the hell are you?” he asks right back, with the same indignation. He pulls the other earbud out, cusses under his breath and then stands up.

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