Hustlin' (4 page)
Authors: L. Divine
I love how most of our classrooms are located in the various corridors outside of the main building, except when it rains.
The first bell has already rung and neither of us wants to be late. I wish I had more time to kick it at lunch or break this week, but I have to work on my English portfolio before our AP meetings this week, and I still have to finish my government paper on Queen Califia, not to mention the mandatory drama rehearsal. I guess I won't be enjoying any free time this week if I want to stay on my A game.
It's a clear, crisp morning and everyone's dressed for the cold in his or her own way. Some of these beach folks are even wearing shorts and skirts. I know they have to be cold because I'm feeling the chill for them. The view of the ocean is unobstructed, tempting even me to go to the beach this morning. If only life was that simple.
“Good morning, Miss Jackson,” Mr. Adewale says, turning into the Language hall as I enter right behind him.
As always, the bell for Spanish is about to ring above my head and I know Mr. Donald is going to have some shit to say if I'm late again. I don't have his favorite quarterback on my arm this morning because Nigel's off somewhere with Mickey. As long as I make it inside before the bell stops ringing, I should be cool with or without an escort.
“Good morning, Mr. Adewale. What brings you to South Bay High this Monday morning?” I ask my favorite substitute teacher, speed-walking to my classroom at the far end of the long path. I don't want to rush off, but I have to. In an alternate reality me and Mr. A could sit down over coffee and chat about life and all of our experiences, but not now. If I were only a little older, I'd make him my man for sure.
“You know I can't stay away for too long,” he teases as we approach my room. “Good game Sunday, wasn't it,” he says, making small talk as he walks me to class. I feel so honored to be in his presence. It's not every day I get ushered through the halls by a fine teacher.
“Yes it was, especially because my boys won. It was an unexpected surprise to see you there,” I say, giving him my biggest smile to date. I know he thinks that I'm just some corny teenager who has a crush on an older guy. But I'm actually interested in him on a whole other level, no matter how silly I may come across to him.
“I was a little surprised to see you yesterday too, given all the work you have on your plate for your research paper on Queen Califia, and the school play.”
He looks at me curiously like he wants to ask me more questions, but stops himself just as his mouth forms the query. I guess he doesn't want to overstep his boundaries. I wish I could get it across to Mr. A just how open a book I am willing to be if he would only ask me what he wants to know. But it's like Ms. Toni said, the young brother will have enough drama just being at South Bay as it is. I don't want anyone to misconstrue our friendship as anything else. This isn't
De-grassi: The Next Generation
and my name ain't Paige.
De-grassi: The Next Generation
and my name ain't Paige.
“Yeah, well you know the boys need cheerleaders,” I say, raising my hands in the air like I'm frantically waving two pom-poms.
Mr. A. laughs at my team spirit as he opens the heavy door, letting the cold air from the stark classroom hit us both in the face. Mr. Donald isn't at his desk and the bell's ringing, which means I could have been late without too much of a consequence, or so I think.
“Good morning class,” Mr. Adewale says. “I'll be your substitute this week while Mr. Donald is at a coach's convention.” He places his black leather computer bag on the near-empty desk before continuing. The class perks up at the announcement of having a sub all week. I know only about ten percent of the students will show up after today.
“What's up, Jayd,” China says, speaking out of turn and pissing our sub off as I take my backpack off and set it on the floor. Mr. A gives China a look that sets the tone for the rest of the morning, I'm sure. As if she said nothing, Mr. Adewale continues with his announcement while unknowingly making my week.
“He's left me a lesson plan for the week and I made copies for each of you to take home. It's pretty self-explanatory, but if you have any questions just let me know.” Mr. Adewale takes a stack of papers out of the back of his worn bag and passes me a few to hand out before I take my seat. I'm glad the new girl, Shawn, who now sits in the back of the room, got the message real quick that this was my seat without me having to say a word. I would like to know her story, but it'll have to wait for another day. Right now, I only have eyes for Mr. Adewale.
“Excuse me,” China says from the back of the room. “I need to go see the nurse. I think I'm coming down with something.” She feigns a cough as the rest of the class giggles. China's a trip and then some. Before Mr. Adewale can answer her request, another student interrupts, causing a slight commotion in the already animated room.
“Yeah, the munchies,” her homeboy Doug says from his desk across the room.
Mr. Adewale's strong jawbone tightens, giving his chiseled face an even more attractive profile. Where is this man from?
“Shut up, Doug,” China says, tossing a paper ball his way. They used to date last year but broke up over some stupid shit, like every other couple I know. Now they are the best of friends and, for the most part, inseparable.
“Okay, that's enough you two. Please start quietly on your assignments before I decide to add to your work,” Mr. Adewale orders, silencing the dueling duo for now, and any other attempts to ditch class. The class settles down and we get to work.
“I didn't know you were a referee,” I say, quietly striking up conversation with our sub. Luckily, my desk is close enough to his that he can hear me whisper. It's not coffee, but close enough to my dreams to make me smile. I plan on taking advantage of the remaining forty-eight minutes to get to know him a little better.
“And I didn't know you were dating Jeremy,” he says, throwing me a curve ball way out of left field.
I wanted to give him the impression that my life was an open book, not a dartboard. What the hell?
“I'm not anymore. We're just friends now,” I say, redirecting my attention away from his glistening hazel eyes and toward the board.
Where the hell did that come from? And why do I feel the need to justify myself to this brotha? I know he's all “Mr. Black Panther” or whoever, but damn, does he have to come at a little sistah so cold like that?
“I just took you for the type of young lady who wouldn't entertain the thought of dating a white boy, but I see I was wrong.” Mr. Adewale smiles to let me know he's only teasing, but the depth of his voice tells me he's also slightly disappointed. I recognize the tone from Rah's response when he first found out I was dating South Bay's most popular bachelor. He didn't get it then anymore than Mr. Adewale does now.
“Well, my girl Nellie's dating Chance,” I say, taking my notebook and pen out of my bag to jot down the assignments listed on the board.
Mr. Adewale isn't going to make me feel guilty about my shit. I don't have to explain my movements to him or anyone else. Well, other than Mama and my mom, but never to a dudeâI don't care who he thinks he is.
“Birds of a feather flock together, right?”
He chuckles while looking through his looming stack of work, only slightly amused by my humor before getting serious with me. Why is he acting like he knows me? “You are a different kind of bird and we both know that.”
Mr. Adewale knows something more that he's not letting slip. I've always had the feeling that he knew me before we met and I'm not second-guessing my intuition. I'll have to ask Mama about getting information out of my new teacher when I get home this afternoon. Until then, I'll enjoy the back-and-forth we've got going on and the rest of my day. Besides, why would I argue with him when what he says is true? I am a different kind of bird and I'm ready to spread my wings and let everyone see my true colorsâMr. Adewale included.
“How do you know anything about how I fly?” I ask. Mr. A sits up straight in his seat, tapping his red pen against a stack of exams.
“I don't know, but you could say I have a sixth sense about these things.”
Just like Laura, Mr. A's got something else on his agenda and it has to do with me. I don't want to be caught off-guard by either one of them. A hustler's always got to be one step ahead of the competition, and my advantage in this game is Mama's wisdom. We'll see how deep his so-called sixth sense matches up against Mama's powers when I get home.
Â
Instead of dealing with the impending drama between Mickey and Nellie, and apparently between me and Nellie too, I studied in the drama room at break, and my lunch was saved by our mandatory rehearsal. Laura worked my nerves to no end this afternoon. She keeps hinting that I'm going to be sorry, and soon. Usually I wouldn't take her threats too seriously, but something about her confident tone has me on edge today. If anything can calm my nerves it's Mama's cooking.
The scent of Mama's snickerdoodles carries me up the quiet block toward home. Mama's been stressed out with other people's issues at home and the homeless shelter alike. Baking always calms her nerves, and her sweet treats have the same effect on everyone who eats them. I can't wait to get my hands on a cookie.
“How was your day, baby?” Mama asks, as I enter the crowded kitchen, filled with Christmas decorations and specialty baking pans among other holiday crap Jay and I are responsible for handling. Every year we have to unpack all of the Christmas decorations and then put them up. It used to be fun being the youngest ones around here, but both of us have outgrown these duties. If my uncles acted right with their baby-mamas and stopped trying to be mac daddys, some of our younger cousins would be around to pick up the holiday slack.
Mama's dog, Lexi, shifts her slumbering body from one side to the other, allowing me space to sit at the kitchen table.
“It was cool. Other than the usual haters making my morning eventful, the rest of the day was smooth.”
Mama stops kneading the cookie dough long enough to take a good look at me. Her green eyes look slightly red this evening, and I know immediately that she hasn't rested well or been taking her herbs. I'm too exhausted for an inquisition right now. Mama's lock is tight on me while she reads my face as I take my backpack off and put it on the floor next to Lexi. It must be nice being a dog and lying around all day.
“How was your day?”
Sensing my fatigue, Mama stops probing my mind for the time being and returns her energy to her baking. “Oh girl, you know the holidays are my busiest times and this year is no exception. Netta's going to help me out and I know you're still on board as one of my best helpers, right?”
I look at Mama and simply shake my head. Normally I'd sigh my disapproval, but tonight all I want to do is eat some cookies and go to bed.
“Right, Jayd?” Mama repeats her question, waiting for my answer. Now she knows something's up with me. “Okay, what's wrong? Did Rah, Jeremy, or both get on your nerves today?”
“Actually, it was Mr. Adewale and Nellie. They are both tripping hard and messing up my chi,” I say, sounding more like a yogi than a descendant of voodoo priestesses.
Mama smiles at me while opening the hot oven to remove one large pan of her delicious treats before replacing it with another three dozen, ready to bake. The spirit room, Mama's private workshop, is good for small orders. But when she has to get down like this, the house kitchen is where it's at. She's been complaining about our old oven for years, but Mama's touch makes even this raggedy thing work magic.
“Chi, ashe; it's all the same thing,” Mama says, reading my mind. I hate when she does that. “But why are they affecting it?”
“Well, Nellie's jealousy is getting worse and she's pimping Chance like he's a little puppy dog, and all I can do is watch. And Mr. Adewale's up to something, but I don't know what it is.”
Mama looks at me and starts humming a familiar song. I think she sang it to me in the womb. Sometimes Mama can trigger memories I had when I still wore my caul. As soon as I was born, it was violently destroyed by the ignorant nurses my mom had around her, but I still wear my veil like other children born like me.
“Jayd, you can't worry about what other people are up to. Haven't you learned that by now? You just have to keep yourself clean, and the best way to do that is to be up front and honest about all of your moves. Now, that doesn't mean going around and telling all of your business. It does mean that you don't lie about it though.”
“But what if someone misinterprets your informationâthen what?”
Whatever Mr. Adewale knows about me has nothing to do with my life at school, that much I can tell. Still, I wonder what he's heard. Teachers gossip just as much as the students and I know Mrs. Bennett has given him an earful and then some about her favorite students to hate.
“You can't worry about how others are going to play their hand. You have to deal with the cards that have been dealt in front of you.”
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