Keep It Movin' (6 page)

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Authors: L. Divine

BOOK: Keep It Movin'
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“Why didn't your parents buy one for you?” Jeremy just doesn't understand my world.
“Clothing is my responsibility. They handle the basics.” Jeremy starts the engine and turns the heat on high.
“I thought clothes were a part of the basics.” Jeremy takes his huge North Face jacket out of the backseat and wraps it around my shoulders. Now this feels good and it smells good, too. This heavy thing must have cost at least two bills. I wish I could afford a nice jacket like this, but my car comes first. I'll just have to settle for one of the off-brands I'll hopefully find on sale the day after Christmas.
“Thank you, smart-ass,” I say, reluctantly enjoying the doting. But I could use less patronizing from this cat. He gets on my nerves with that shit.
“Jayd, I'm just saying. I met your family tonight and no one looks hungry,” he says.
“Looks can be deceiving.” Jeremy smiles at me before moving in for the kiss he's been holding back all night and I let him. His kisses are too nice to resist. Before we can get too comfortable with each other's lips, Laura, Reid, and Nellie show up, causing me to feel a twinge of pain. How is it that Nellie can be such a good friend one day and stab me in the back the next?
“Leaving so soon? We're just about to light it up,” Reid says, hopping over the side of his mini Benz and letting Nellie out of the barely-there backseat before walking around to open Laura's door. I wonder how Nellie's newfound clique is affecting her relationship with Chance? I know he's sprung, but even he has his pride and his loyalty to Jeremy would never allow him to roll hard with Reid.
“You don't smoke,” Laura says, deflating her man's corny line before Jeremy has a chance to respond. Why do the bitches always get a man, not that I envy her little dude at all, but still? I need to step up my bitch game if I'm going to lock down a boyfriend of my own when I'm ready.
“What happened to your hair?” I know Nellie's not talking shit. Her new weave's hanging so far down her back no one would ever believe that mane belongs to her. And it looks hella expensive: must be a Christmas gift from Chance. How much is he shelling out on her?
“Nature. What happened to yours, a horse?” Nellie's eyes narrow in anger and I feel her embarrassment. Sistahs don't usually talk about the secrets of the trade in front of white folks, but she started it and I could care less about her little feelings getting hurt. She didn't care about me when she decided to tell Laura about me signing Mickey's note. When Mickey asked me to do it, I knew it was wrong, but I can't take it back now.
“Shut up, Jayd. You're just jealous,” she says, flicking her black tresses over her shoulder, just like Laura does. Oh, this is too much for me to stomach.
“Yeah, that's it. I'm jealous that you're hiding your perfectly healthy hair under some fake shit.”
“It's better than looking like Angela Davis without the fist.” Jeremy, Reid, and Laura look on as we battle it out. Black history's way out of their league.
“I'm surprised you know who Angela Davis is and I've got your fist,” I say, smiling at my former homegirl. Damn, she's on it tonight. It must be the full moon.
“I know a lot of shit, remember that.” Nellie's threat isn't veiled at all and it's about time to call her on her shit. I'm tired of playing with her. If she wants to ball with the big girls, now's the time to take it to the court, for real.
“Yeah, the type of shit only a best friend would know, right, Nellie? So, does Laura know all of your secrets too, or are you just divulging me and Mickey's business to the broad?” Both girls look at me, shell-shocked. I guess Chance really did give up the family jewels when he told me about how Nellie has to sell out to hang with Laura.
“Remember, payback's a bitch,” Laura says, crossing her skinny arms over her flat chest. If she didn't have money and wasn't dating Reid, she'd be a plain Jane.
“Yes, I can be and I didn't even have to read any books on the subject, unlike the two of you. Go figure.” When Tania was here, they had their own book club on how to be a better bitch.
“Just shut up, Jayd,” Nellie says. “You don't know what you're talking about.” Nellie looks nervously at Laura, who looks pissed that I know one of their hazing requirements. But I'm on a roll and I'm going to keep on going until I get what I want: total humiliation for Laura and her wack-ass crew, even if Nellie's now a part of it. It was her choice to sell her soul to the devil and it's mine to drive them all back to hell where they belong.
“You didn't really think you'd get away with selling us out, now did you, Nellie? You haven't even seen what's in store for you yet, but you will when we get back to campus in a couple of weeks. Have a nice break.” Not knowing what else to say or do, she and Laura follow Reid toward the beach so we can finally leave.
“Merry Christmas,” Jeremy yells after them sarcastically before pulling off. It's going to be a long drive back to Inglewood, but I'm sure we'll make the best of our time together. He rolls up both of our windows and heads toward the freeway.
“I don't know what's up with Nellie. Have you talked to Chance about her?”
“We don't talk about stuff like that, Jayd. We're not girls. The less I know about his love life, the better.”
“Love life? Nellie doesn't have a love life.” Portishead's melodic beat slowly creeps through the speakers, mellowing out our vibe. This night would've ended perfectly if I hadn't run into Nellie. What the hell?
“You're kidding. Nellie's a virgin?” Jeremy looks as surprised as I did when I first found out. Nellie carries herself like a grown-ass woman, but underneath her bougie exterior she's really a prude.
“She's not only a member of our club, but she's also the president.” Mickey used to tease us all of the time about our status, but I'm proud to be a card-carrying member, and so was Nellie until Tania and Laura came along. Now I don't even recognize my girl.
“Well, that'll change quickly if she keeps hanging out with Laura. Virgins aren't allowed in that clique.” I wonder if Nellie knows about this prerequisite? If she were still my friend I'd feel obligated to tell her. But I'm out of it now. She's on her own with this one.
“She's still your friend, Jayd. Nellie's just tripping.”
My mom doesn't even take holidays off from invading my mind, I see.
“And hurry up and get home. You need to rest before you hook up my hair tomorrow.”
“Mom, I'm not even doing my own hair tomorrow. I'm taking the day off.”
“Girl, please. If you want to eat, you'll get those combs out and get to it.”
“Fine, Mom. Consider it my gift to you.”
“Why, thank you. Now, remember what I said about Nellie. If those girls mean her harm, you have to let her know. If she doesn't listen, make her. Bye.”
Why is it always my responsibility to do right? Just once I'd like to flip out like Misty or Nellie, damn who it ends up hurting. But I want to eat breakfast so I'll think about taking my mom's advice, for now.
“Everything good?” Jeremy asks, settling into a cruising speed. He rests his right hand on my thigh like he used to when we were dating. I'm tempted to move it, but I don't mind so much.
“Yeah, it's all good. Just thinking about tomorrow.”
“Stay in the moment with me for a little longer, if you don't mind.” And that's just what I'm going to do. I look at Jeremy's olive skin, his loose curls falling over his chiseled cheekbones, tempting me to kiss him softly all over his face. Jeremy allows me an escape from my world in more ways than one. And tomorrow's going to be a day that can't come slow enough. So I'll enjoy the rest of this moment before it's gone.
 
It's a tradition for my mom to make me whatever I want to eat for breakfast on Christmas morning. It's the best gift she can give me, especially since—for as long as I can remember—Christmas Day has always belonged to my dad. I requested Belgian waffles this year, but I already know that's not happening because she didn't make it to the store, with all of her holiday partying and whatnot. But from the sounds of her banging away at the dishes in the kitchen, something's going to be made this morning and I'm glad because a sistah's hungry.
After Jeremy dropped me off last night, I came upstairs and fell out on the couch. I didn't hear my mom come in, but I know it was hella late because I didn't get home until well after one in the morning. It makes me wonder if Karl sleeps over when I'm not here. I know they spend most of their time at his apartment, but I'm sure a change of scenery must be nice for the two of them.
“Jayd, heat the skillets, please,” my mom says, swishing around the kitchen wearing her old pink robe and a bright flower-patterned scarf tied around her head. She and Karl are spending the day together with his family while I'll be in Compton. Speaking of which, Rah texted me about stopping by with Rahima for a minute before heading over to his grandparents' house, but I'm sure my dad's picking me up early. Maybe we can link up later on while I'm in the area.
“What are we making?” I ask as I intuitively take the two large cast-iron skillets out of the lower cabinet to the right of the stove. Whatever she's making, she'll need these to make it good. Mama gave these skillets to my mother when she got married. It's the only thing my mom took from my daddy's house when she left him. According to both my mom and Mama, cast-iron skillets are the secret to great cooking and healing.
“Banana pancakes with fresh strawberries. I had some when Karl took me to Tahoe for Thanksgiving and have been craving them ever since.”
“Cravings? Is someone expecting?” I tease, rubbing my mom's flat belly. From the looks of her body, no one would ever know she's had a baby.
“Hush yourself, child. You know I had my tubes tied after I had you. And after all the hell I raised with Kaiser to get them done back then, I'd better not have any buns cooking in my oven.”
“But I've heard of them growing back together, especially with daughters of Oshune. I read one story about it in the spirit book, too.” My mom looks unimpressed by my knowledge of the subject and, from her glaring green eyes, I think she's ready to change the topic completely. I must've struck a nerve.
“What was that all about with you and Mama yesterday? I tried to probe your mind but you had some sort of block up. I didn't know you could do that.”
“So you did notice,” I say, remembering the shared vision back to when Mama was a baby. “I don't know what it was. Mama said my powers are growing if I can see what she sees.”
“I thought it was something like that. It felt strange not being able to talk to you mind-to-mind. Don't do that again,” she says, pushing me out of the kitchen now that I've done my part.
“I didn't do it on purpose. Don't you think if I could control it, I would?” I walk out of the kitchen, ready to get my day started. I need to shower and get my outfit together for today before I start on my mom's hair. Nellie would be envious of my mother's long, jet-black hair. You can't buy it in any store. Mama says my mom's hair is just like her mother's hair. And, from what I saw yesterday, it is.
“You also need to call Mama before she leaves for the shelter,”
my mom says, not wasting any time practicing her powers, which only work on me.
“I'm standing right here, Mom.”
“I know that. I'm just checking to make sure you didn't figure out a way to keep me out, at least not yet.”
“Not yet. And we can call Mama when I get out the shower. My daddy's supposed to be here at noon, which only leaves me two hours to get everything done.”
“Well, get moving because my hair's going to take some time, girl. And I want you to trim my edges too,” she says, like it's nothing. Damn, that's going to take another twenty minutes on top of the hour it'll take just to get all of that hair pressed and flat-ironed. “You can eat while you work, girl.” What a Christmas this is turning out to be.
After downing my breakfast and hooking my mom's hair up, we called Mama and now I have less than five minutes to get dressed before my dad gets here. I don't have time to iron, and my clothing choices are severely limited. I knew I should've brought all of my clothes with me while I'm at my mom's. One day I'll live in one house, with my own room and dresser drawers to match, I pray. Before I can decide between the less wrinkled of my two outfits lying across the couch, my phone vibrates. My dad doesn't waste any time when he's ready to go.
“Jayd, why aren't you downstairs? You know I hate waiting,” my dad says, almost shouting through my small cell. I can't wait to get a better phone, but for now I'm grateful to have my cheap one.
“Sorry. I had to do my mom's hair real quick and it put me behind. I just need to put on my shoes and I'll be right down.” I quickly choose the pink-and-white sweat suit and put my pants on two legs at a time. Maybe if I'm real slow he'll leave me behind, but I wouldn't bet on it. My dad likes to show off his children any chance he gets. My brother and sister are grown, so they show up at their own discretion. Too bad I'm still a minor; otherwise my ass would be missing in action more often than not.

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