If I Were Your Boyfriend (21 page)

  "And shouldn't you and your trolls be somewhere dribbling a basketball and assaulting the air with your body funk?"

  "Who are you calling funky?" Dorothy got loud.

  "You!" Keysha got in on the action. "Your breath smells as if you've been licking the buttocks of a gorilla!" Dorothy's teammates laughed at Keysha's comment.

  "Am I right, girls? I mean, come on. You had to have noticed that sister girl is just a little on the hot side when it comes to her breath?" Dorothy's teammates laughed a little harder.

  "Shut up!" Dorothy was even louder now. "Ya'll are not supposed to be laughing at that," she scolded her girlfriends.

  "Shhhhh!" Finally, a librarian appeared. It was Miss Haskey, who was a no-nonsense type of person. "What is the matter with you, Dorothy? You're shouting so loud that I heard you all the way in the bathroom." Miss Haskey approached us. "What's going on over here?" she asked, sensing that something was afoot.

  "Nothing," I answered Miss Haskey.

  "Dorothy?" Miss Haskey looked at her. Dorothy stomped her foot and appeared to be contemplating a violent outburst.

  "Dorothy, are you in here causing trouble?" Miss Haskey asked.

  "No," she answered. "Everything is cool."

  "Good, now disperse and go on about your business." Miss Haskey ordered Dorothy and her teammates to leave. Keysha plopped down in her seat and exhaled.

  "I hate this retarded school," Keysha complained.

  I took that as an invitation to a conversation, so I sat down on the opposite side of her table.

  "Hi, my name is Wesley Morris." I extended my hand for a handshake.

  "Keysha," she said, shaking my hand. "So, why aren't you hating on me too?" she asked.

  "Hating on you? Why would I do that?" I was confused.

  "Why not? Everyone else is."

  "Why do you have so many haters?" I inquired because I genuinely wanted to know.

  "It's a long story," Keysha said as she picked up her pencil, and began tapping it on a nearby book cover.

  "I like long stories." I smiled at her. She looked at me as if she were perplexed by something.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"I told you, my name is Wesley."

"No, I mean, why did you get involved?"

"I don't know. It seemed like the right thing to do."

  "So, what are you? Some choirboy on a crusade to save the world or something?" I could tell that Keysha was trying to analyze me.

  "Trust me. I'm no choirboy." I laughed. Keysha wasn't laughing so I stopped.

  "Relax, the fight is over. You don't have to fight me." I wanted my words to comfort her.

  "I have to fight everybody," she said.

  "Why?" I asked.

  "Why do you want to know?" she countered.

  "Whew, are you always this tough to talk to?" I asked.

  "Stop avoiding my question and answer it." Keysha wasn't letting up.

  "I'm just curious. I mean, why do you have to fight so much?"

  "Because that's just the way it is," she answered.

  "That's not an answer," I said.

  "Yes, it is."

  "No, it isn't. That's a cop-out."

  She paused for a moment and studied me. I could tell she was making all types of assumptions and determinations about me.

  "What did Dorothy mean when she called you a wine head?"

  "Oh, man. That's a long story," I answered.

  "I like long stories," she countered.

  "You can't use my own words against me," I complained.

  "I just did." She stood her ground and I liked that. I was attracted to her robustness and strong will.

"Do you really want to know?" I asked.

  "I'm all ears." She stopped tapping her pencil and folded her arms across her chest and leaned back in her seat.

  "You don't trust me, do you?" I asked.

  "Should I?" Her words were as sharp as a surgeon's blade.

  "Whew, hello, it's me. The moron who tried to protect you from a major beat-down. I'm not the enemy." I placed a silly expression on my face. "See, I'm very friendly." I finally cracked the ice and got Keysha to laugh.

  "Stop that. You look like a lost puppy begging to be let inside from a cold storm."

  "Ruff, ruff, ruff," I barked quietly. She laughed some more. I was about to do my Scooby Doo impression but then Miss Haskey walked past us and gave me the evil glare.

  "Okay, Wesley, you have my attention." Keysha smiled.

  "You know, that is the very first time that I've seen you smile. I see you in here often but I've never seen you smile. You have a pretty smile. You should let people see who you really are more often."

  "So, are you a sophomore or junior?" she asked.

  "A junior, but if I don't get my grades up, I may be a junior for life," I admitted.

  "Huh, you and I both. I'm new here," Keysha said. "When I first arrived at the beginning of the semester, I had a difficult time making friends. Then I hooked up with this crazy girl named Liz."

  "Not Liz Lloyd. Please tell me you didn't befriend her."

  "Why?" she asked before answering the question.

  "I know Liz Lloyd. I know her very well."

  "What, did you guys used to date or something?"

  I could tell Keysha was once again on the defensive and, if I didn't clear the air, she'd shut down on me again.

  "No, not really. Listen, Liz is like a virus. She infects

everyone she comes in contact with. She's sneaky, twofaced and is not to be trusted."

  "How do you know all of this about Liz?" she asked.

  "Like I said, I'm no choirboy but I'm working on bettering myself. I had to turn my life around because I was so unhappy. I used to hang with Liz and her crew." I paused in thought because I didn't want to frighten her off with my history. "Let's just say I'm not proud of who I was."

  Keysha leaned forward and rested her elbows on the table. She captured my gaze and looked at me intensely.

  "Liz Lloyd has screwed me over so bad that, whenever I see her, I want to kick her ass. I don't like her one bit," Keysha said with absolute conviction.

  "Well, neither do I," I responded.

  "Then you and I have something in common." Keysha repositioned herself in her seat. "So, tell me your story, Wesley Morris. From the beginning. I want to know everything." Keysha smiled at me once again.

  "Everything?" I smiled mannishly.

  "In vivid detail." She smiled at me as I opened the windows to my soul and invited her inside for an enlightening conversation about who I am.