Boy Trouble (8 page)

T
his girl is really ignoring me!
I pressed END on my phone and tossed it onto the table. I hadn't heard from Sheridan in two days and as friends who talked to each other every day, that was completely out of the ordinary. The only time we'd gone this long without talking was back when we had all that
Miami Divas
drama. I know she couldn't still be mad about me mistaking Jose for Javier. I'd apologized. Good grief, what else did she want?

Sheridan hadn't been at school yesterday and today she hadn't been answering my calls. I was about to get an attitude in a minute.

“Do you think she's still mad at me about Javier?” I asked Kennedi, who was sitting there staring out the window of my second-floor bedroom. Her being mad at me hadn't lasted long. She'd come up to me at school, acting like she hadn't been ignoring me, then said that she was coming home with me.

“I don't know,” Kennedi said. I so could not appreciate her nonchalant attitude when I had some real issues that I was dealing with.

“Do you think I should dye my hair pink and join a rock band?” I asked her.

“I don't know,” Kennedi said as she continued staring out the window.

“Hey, what is wrong with you?”

Since we'd walked into my room more than an hour ago, Kennedi hadn't said more than a few words. She kept looking at her phone and pacing back and forth. I'd asked her over a dozen times what was wrong. She'd said nothing, but it was obvious something was bothering my friend. She swore it wasn't Kendrick, but I didn't see how it could be anything else.

I had gone and picked her up because she was so down. She'd wrecked her car (her third wreck), so her dad wouldn't let her drive. If it wasn't the car and it wasn't Kendrick, I don't know what it was.

“I keep telling you nothing. I wish you would quit nagging me. You worse than my mama,” she said, snapping.

She made me stop in my tracks. I just stared at her and she gave me this look like she was really irritated with me.

“Just because I'm not concerned with your little trivial drama about your fake friend, don't start tripping with me,” she continued.

It took a moment for me to compose myself, but finally, I said, “Whoa, someone needs to take a chill pill. What the heck is your problem?”

I knew that Sheridan and Kennedi really didn't cut for each other, but over the past year they'd learned to get along so I didn't know what all of this was about.

Before I could say another word, Kennedi's phone rang. She must've broken her neck darting across the room to get her phone, which was sitting on the dresser.

“Hello?” she answered. I saw her let out a frustrated sigh.

“I'm all right, Mom . . . No . . . What number is this you're calling me from? No, I'm cool. Nothing's wrong. I'll call you back later.” She hung up the phone.

I raised an eyebrow. “Now, do you want to tell me what's going on? Because you're snapping at your mom like you're on one of those Disney Channel shows. You know Laura don't play that.”

Kennedi plopped down on the edge of the bed. “It's Kendrick,” she finally admitted.

Of course it is
, I wanted to say.

“What did Kendrick do now?” I asked.
Besides bust you upside your head,
I wanted to add, but didn't.

“He's not returning my phone calls.”

I sat down next to her. It was time we had a real heart-to-heart because her obsession with this dude was borderline scary. “Kennedi, what's really going on? You've never been into a guy like this where you're getting all worked up and upset.”

“I told you, Kendrick is different. We were meant to be together and now he's talking about he thinks we need some space,” she spat, as she got up and started walking back and forth across the room. “Unh-unh, see he's not about to play me like that. I gave him all of me—”

I jumped up. “Whoa, Hold on, wait a minute. What do you mean, you gave him all of you?”

“What do you
think
it means?” she snapped.

I didn't know whether to be hurt or shocked. Kennedi was the “I'm waiting till I get married” queen, so the fact that she'd chosen to lose her virginity to Kendrick was a shock within itself. But the fact that she hadn't told me about it cut me to the core.

“Wow, I cannot believe that,” I said.

“Can't believe what?”

“That you didn't tell me that,” I said, stunned.

“I was going to,” she snapped. She ran her fingers through her long curly hair like she was really agitated. “You just don't understand. I have a lot going on.”

I stood to face her. I wanted to look her right in the eye because this had really hurt my feelings.

“You're right. I don't understand at all. I thought you and I were BFFs.”

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever, Maya. You've got a new BFF.”

“So is that why you didn't tell me? Because I'm friends with Sheridan?”

She let out a heavy sigh again. “Look, Maya, I'm seriously stressed out. I don't want to fight with you. I didn't tell you because I didn't want to hear your mouth.”

“Hear my mouth? What does that mean?”

“You can be so judgmental sometimes. Like now.” She pushed past me and headed to the other side of the room.

I turned around, too. “No, I'm just not understanding why it is my friend is all of a sudden acting like some kind of a mad woman behind this dude.”

She spun around and I could see that she was crying. “He's not just any dude. He's my first, and as far as I'm concerned, my last.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“Just”—she looked around—“can you just drive me to his house?”

“Kennedi,” I said, “I'm not about to go stalking some guy.”

“You're not
stalking
him. I'm just trying to find him.”

“And if he wanted to be found he'd answer your phone calls,” I said because I knew she had called him a hundred times.

She fell down on the bed and burst into tears. “What am I going to do? What in the world am I going to do?”

I know I probably should've walked over, hugged her, and comforted her or something, but I was too busy trying to figure out who in the world was this person lying on my bed and what in the world had she done with my friend.

I
could not believe I was doing this, driving around like some hood rat chick, trying to track down a man.

My BFF had clearly lost her mind.

“Turn right there,” she hurriedly said.

I side-eyed her, but turned in the direction she was pointing. I had initially refused to drive her so she'd asked to use my ride. She was all teary eyed and worked up, and the way she was on edge, she definitely didn't need to be behind the wheel of a car, especially my car, so here I was driving around town like I was a human LoJack.

The first place we'd gone had been a bust. I'd almost died from embarrassment when Kendrick's mom had looked at Kennedi like she was some kind of crazed stalker and said, “Honey, why are you over here trying to track down my son?”

Kennedi hadn't even answered the woman; she'd just turned and stomped back toward the car. I could tell by the look on the woman's face, she was not a fan of Kennedi's.

Kennedi put another address in her phone's GPS and then thrust it toward me. “Here, follow the directions.”

Watching her at Kendrick's house was strange enough, but now, watching the way she was rocking back and forth, wringing her hands, I was convinced—my friend had flipped.

We drove in silence for about ten minutes, and then she said, “Right here,” as she pointed to the right.

“Where are we?” I asked, as I slowed down in front of the small wooden home.

“This is his friend Lucas's house.” She leaned up and looked up and down the row of cars parked along the street. “I bet he's over here.”

The sun was setting and this wasn't an area I wanted darkness to catch me in. I was just about to say something when she sat up.

“See! There's his truck,” she said, pointing down near the corner. “I knew he was over here!”

“Kennedi, what is going on with you?”

“Maya, don't start with me, okay?”

I was speechless as I shook my head and pulled over to the curb. Kennedi barely gave the car time to stop before she jumped out. Everything inside me told me to stay my behind in the car so I wouldn't have to witness my girl acting a fool, so I sat there twiddling my thumbs against the steering wheel. I sat there five, then ten minutes, but then I got worried as I heard screaming and yelling. I jumped out of the car and raced up the walkway. I had barely made it to the door when it swung open and Kennedi came out, her hair out of the loose ponytail that she'd had when she'd gone in.

“Oh, my God! Kennedi, what happened?” I asked.

“Nothing,” she said, crying as she tried to push past me.

“Let's just go.”

I grabbed her to stop her. “Are you okay?” She was sobbing but wouldn't turn around. I looked up toward the house. Kendrick was standing on the porch looking mad as all get out, balling his fist up as he was taking deep breaths. Several people had trickled out on the porch as well, including some girls.

Kendrick glared in our direction, his chest heaving.

“What did you do to her?” I screamed as I pulled her close to me. I was two seconds from calling the cops.

“You need to get your girl” was all he replied.

“You're up here with all these other chicks all over you,” I spat. “You lying dog.”

“No, boo-boo,” one of the girls with long, blond braids said, “he's all over
us
.”

“And you and your desperate friend need to get out of here before somebody gets hurt,” said another girl—well, I guess she was a girl. She had a low-cut fade, a wife beater, baggy jeans, and Timberlands.

The other girls all looked out at Kennedi pitifully, and I couldn't believe it. I wanted to say or do something in my friend's defense, but these girls looked rough and the last thing I wanted to do was to get caught up in some street drama with these hood chicks.

“Kennedi, let's just go,” I told her as I took her arm and tried to push her toward the car.

She broke free and stepped back toward the porch. “So, you just gon' stay here?” she yelled at Kendrick.

“You better get her,” Kendrick said, backing up against the wall.

It was at that moment that I noticed her torn clothes. I looked at her ripped shirt, then looked at him.

“Did you hit her?” I found myself asking Kendrick.

That suddenly made her want to leave. “Just come on, Maya, let's go,” Kennedi said, pulling me toward the car. I debated whether to challenge him some more, but finally I just decided to go ahead and get the heck up out of there. I followed Kennedi back to the car and as soon as we got in and I pulled away I said, “You want to tell me what that was about?”

She was sitting there, sniffling. “He's not answering my phone calls, but he's sitting up there chillin' with his friend and some girls.”

“Was he
with
one of the girls?” I asked.

“He claims they were just sitting there talking.”

“Then why wasn't he answering your calls?”

“ 'Cause he's a jerk.”

We rode in silence for a few minutes, and then I said, “Kennedi, what's the real deal?” I looked over at her in the passenger seat. “I mean, why are you acting like this with him?”

Slow tears trickled down her face again. “I don't know—like, for real I don't know. He just makes me crazy.”

“That's not good,” I said, looking at my friend sympathetically. “I mean, it's like I don't even know you, the way you're acting.”

“Just drop it, okay?” She used the back of her hand to wipe her face.

“I am not going to drop it,” I told her. “I refuse to sit around and watch my best friend be abused.”

She didn't look at me when she said, “He doesn't abuse me.”

I coughed and when she turned to face me, my eyes made my way down to her ripped blouse.

“We had a little tussle, that's all,” she said, fixing her shirt as she shifted in the passenger seat.

“You don't rip clothes like that in just a tussle,” I told her.

Kennedi rolled her eyes, and the look on her face told me she wished I would just be quiet.

“Did he hit you, Kennedi?” I asked point-blank. I knew he had, but I needed to hear her say it. Better yet, I needed her to hear her say it.

“Maya—”

“Did he hit you?” I repeated. Her silence was my answer, and I had to lean back in my seat in shock. Mynique Foxx was one thing, but watching my BFF in an abusive relationship—that was another thing entirely.

“You know that's completely unacceptable,” I finally said.

“Just stay out of it, okay, Maya? I got this,” she huffed.

“Obviously, you don't.”

“Maya, I'm for real. Mind your business and leave me and my boyfriend alone. This is between me and him.” The tone of her voice was firm. And she sounded like she had an attitude. How she was gonna be mad at me was beyond me. She needed to be mad at the lying, cheating, woman beater.

I dropped it for the moment because I could tell Kennedi was upset, but she was crazier than I thought if she even began to
think
I was just going to leave this issue alone. No, she might be temporarily insane, but it was my duty to bring her back to her senses.