Coldhearted & Crazy (3 page)

After three grueling years of high school passed, it was the last week of the term. The twins had made it and were going to finally be seniors next semester. The only thing left before vacation was final exams. Kenya acted as if passing them would be a total breeze. Concentrating on tests wasn't easy for Kenya. The popular teen knew that she needed to study but would still sneak out of the house almost every night doing God knows what with God knows who. London, on the other hand, would study constantly, keeping her head buried in the books. Although they were both smart girls when it came down to it, unfortunately only London would apply herself.

Gran often worried about both her granddaughters' well-being. However, there was only so much she could do or say to point them in the right direction. At some point it would be up to the sisters themselves to make the right decisions and choices in general. The flow of life was starting to take its toll on Gran; she was getting old. In between the grief of losing both of her own children and trying her best to raise two now-teenage girls, she was rapidly losing speed.

The last bell rang and it was thankfully over. The final class for the semester had concluded. Rambunctious and excited student after student poured out the doors of the school building like it was on fire and they had on gasoline attire. The joy of no more class until fall was on their minds, but the true source of their merriment was the anticipation that'd been growing all day, really all year long. Kenya and Shannon, constant adversaries who argued day after day, were about to battle and the shit was about to be on. They were going to fight on the basketball court after school. Everyone knew about it, even the teachers. But they didn't give a shit; their so-called tour of duty was finally over, so to hell with the students and their madness!

“Let them kill each other,” London overheard one of the teachers snarl while she drank her coffee. “Their parents are raising little animals so this is the type of behavior I expect.”

Walking past, London, who was ear hustling, couldn't help herself and jumped into the otherwise private conversation. “Wow, you're supposed to be adults, teachers no less. We should be looking to you for guidance. You should be trying to find a way to help us end this black-on-black crime instead of turning a deaf ear.” London was in rare form as she waited for a sign of remorse from the teacher. “Somebody should report y'all!”

“Well, Li'l Miss Wannabe Harriet Tubman and Oprah rolled into one,” the younger of the teachers smugly responded to the teen. “Instead of you being all up in here giving us a black history lesson, don't you think you should be out on that basketball court trying to stop your sister from getting her pretty little teeth stumped out her mouth?” The teacher, not trying to defend her initial proclamation, was rolling her head around and snapping her fingers, just like she was London's equal. “You're in here judging us like your parents weren't out in the streets back in the day destroying the minds of the youth! Girl, bye! We all know the story of your people!”

Hearing her sarcastic statement about her deceased parents and Kenya's impending battle swiftly snatched London back into reality of what was really about to take place. It was true. While she was preoccupied inside being a one-woman martyr for humanity, the here and now was taking place just yards away. She had to get off her soapbox and get outside fast. That no-good, “always got something ugly to say about folk” Shannon had been running off at the mouth all day long about how she was gonna jump on Kenya when school was out. Well, seeing how the last bell had rung over ten minutes prior, London knew time was ticking. “I hate violence, but there's no way I'm not gonna have my sister's back,” London said out loud as she ran down the deserted hallway, bolting out of the school's double doors. Immediately eyeing the crowd gathering, swarming around like flies on a pile of shit on the basketball court, London couldn't believe how many people were actually cheering, happy to see two females try to beat one another down.
Why can't Kenya stay out of trouble for once?
she thought, quickly approaching the middle of all the commotion in the field.
It seems like Gran is right. Her temper is gonna get her in big trouble one day!

“Fake ass!” Shannon brazenly taunted, feeling as if the crowd was backing her up. With her hands on her hips, she was front and center of the small mob surrounded by her so-called clique, which consisted of three ghetto-painted-face females who also took the bus from the projects every day to get to school. However, that didn't mean much of nothing to Kenya at all. Matter of fact, the only thing it really meant was they weren't just hood rats; they were low-budget project rats. To Kenya it didn't matter much if you were rich, poor, black, or white, old, young, boy, or girl. If you came for her, she had no problem whatsoever returning the favor ten times over and coming for you. So if Shannon wanted to feel Kenya's wrath, then so be it, she would. It was on.

“What?” Kenya let her intended victim rant and rave before she had her turn at showing Shannon what was really good in the hood.

“You heard me, bitch! What it do, Ms. Uppity? You been acting like you wanted some all year long, so what's up?” Shannon was straight-up frontin'. Honestly she was scared to death, but she tried her best to not let it show, especially in front of half the student body.

The crowd was geeking it up and that's all Kenya, already mentally prepared to take her opponent's head off, needed to hear. Knowing her DNA bloodline ran deep on her father's side, Kenya didn't crack a smile, showing not one tooth. She was cut from a different cloth than many, and, in her words, they didn't even make that fabric anymore. The west side's known wild child offspring of Johnnie and Melinda Roberts did her best clowning in front of an audience and this was one of her biggest to date. She had a point to prove about hoes running off at the mouth just because they had lips, and school was back in session for Shannon.

Carmen was on her left and London, not truly wanting to fight but would and could, had just burst through the crowd and was loyally posted on her right. Allan, who'd dropped out a couple years back, was also up at the school to hold them down, just in case one of those busters Shannon would trick with flexed and wanted their ass kicked too.

“Fake ass? Come on now seriously, is that what you let rip out that raggedy grill mouth? Girl, look at you, from the bottom to the top you need a clue. Your synthetic weave has been recycled from week to week. Your blouse got a permanent ring around the collar and do your pants even know what an iron is?” Kenya was going ham and the mesmerized crowd loved the show she was giving them.

Some of the guys in the bunch were ashamed that they ever kicked it with Shannon let alone spent some loose change on her. London felt bad for her also, but deep down inside she knew she had it coming. Yet, at that moment, no one felt as bad as Shannon, who had no defense for the slaughter. Her girls had eased away and faded back into the background. It was obvious they didn't want any of the verbal beat down their so-called homegirl was getting, who was staring down at the ground with tears starting to form in her eyes.

“Oh hell naw, you stankin' trash bucket! Why you got your head down now? With them ran-over shoes! Did you walk over here from Africa?” Kenya still never cracked a smile as she twisted up her face. The girl was cold-blooded, just like her daddy, and wouldn't stop going until she was satisfied in totally humiliating Shannon. “You want it with me for real? Girl, you better get your life!”

Most of the students standing around were almost in tears from the entertainment Kenya was providing. Carmen was begging her best friend to stop running Shannon's name through the mud because her side was beginning to hurt. She, like the many other spectators, just couldn't stop laughing at Shannon's expense. London, cut from the same cloth as her sister on the other hand, was just like her twin, not cracking a smile either. She knew Kenya much better than anyone else and could tell that the girl had “blood in her eyes.”
Poor Shannon,
was all she could think at that point.

“All bullshit aside let's tear this court up,” Kenya, aggravated, spoke in a cold, callous tone, following her taunting words with a sock dead to Shannon's jaw, who just stood there, speechless, holding her face.

Just then, luckily for Shannon, the school security arrived, breaking up their one-sided battle before things grew worse. The crowd slowly dispersed, including the twins and their friends. As they made their way down Linwood Avenue, Carmen and Allan couldn't stop making jokes about what had just jumped off. They both were taking turns pretending to be Shannon. Even the normally quiet Amber was cracking up. Hell, she and London had been on the receiving end of Shannon's insults time and time again. It felt good to see the bully get a small taste of her own medicine for once.

While the others went on with the jokes, finally going their separate ways, London walked alongside her sister. She placed her hand on Kenya's shoulder, attempting to calm her down. When Kenya got heated, it was hard for her to let stuff go. Luckily, the sisters finally made it to their house without any further incidents. Kenya sat down on the concrete stair and London followed. As soon as they looked at one another they both burst out laughing.

“Dang, girl, you really let her have it. I was trying hard as heck not to laugh all in her face.” London giggled. “But she deserved every bit of it. She's a bully!”

Kenya couldn't wait to roast her sister. “What about you? You came bursting all through the crowd like Freddy fucking Krueger! Shiiit, you even scared me.”

In the midst of all of the laughter, they didn't even notice Gran pulling in the driveway.

“Hey, Gran!” London yelled out, running off the porch to help her grandmother with her bags.

“Hey, baby, how are you and how was school?” Gran hugged London tightly.

“It was the best day of the entire year!”

Kenya, acting out of character, cut in, actually hugging Gran too. They all walked to the porch arm in arm, smiling. Today they were a happy family, even Kenya, who was for once not being a pain. It's surprising what an ass kicking would do, especially when it's not your ass that got kicked.

“Summer came and went so quickly. I can't wait. We're finally seniors! I hope we have a few new teachers, maybe someone to teach English or math.” London was going on and on for what seemed like forever. She loved school, even if it was Central High.

“New teachers, forget all that! Girl, we're seniors now, queens of the school! It's our turn to be running thangs up in there. It's gonna be a new sheriff in that motherfucker!” Kenya was too excited also as she thought about her impending spot as HBIC of the school. She was spinning around with her hands in the air. “I can't wait!” Kenya was cheesin' from ear to ear.

The girls had become a lot closer during the summer months. Gran had suffered a mild heart attack while she was at work and had to stay in the hospital for almost two weeks straight. The twins had to rely on each other much more for everything from moral support to sharing the responsibility of the household. It was then, even more than before, that they learned of the special bond the two shared. A little bit of maturity on both their behalves had settled in. If they ran into a problem, London figured out the solution and Kenya executed the plan, putting it in motion. They now woke up daily on their own and instead of Gran making them breakfast they in turn would cook for her. While the twins still hung out with their old friends at school, for the first time in three years they walked to Central together. Sometimes it was Linwood Avenue, and others it would be the side streets.

As the months started to go by and the seasons changed, so did Kenya. She just couldn't help herself. As much as she was fighting her alter ego, she'd unfortunately slipped back into her old, wild, carefree ways she was so infamous for. School and turning in homework assignments on time had once again become a second priority in her young, reckless life. All of Kenya's grades she struggled so feverishly to get up to par were rapidly falling, and lastly she returned to skipping class most of the time. She was heading downhill rapidly and nothing anyone said or did could seem to slow her intentions of being “not shit” down.

London, disgusted at what she was watching take place and couldn't stop, blamed her sister's spiral on that stupid foolish-oriented boyfriend of Kenya's. London knew Ty was nothing more than a car thief clown who had dropped out of school in tenth grade and ran the streets of Detroit on a nickel-and-dime adventure trying to sell drugs for the next man when he could get put on. Like most young dudes in their neighborhood, he wasn't smart enough or had enough game to have his own sack to risk getting knocked and going to jail for; he hustled to make the next nigga's pockets fat. Ty, in all his ill-witted wisdom, was always busy putting different kinds of dumb, idiotic ideas in Kenya's gullible mind. Kenya always had delusions of grandeur and escaping hood life no matter how she could do it, hook or crook. Engulfed by nothing but getting off Glendale Street and out of Gran's strict and spiritual household, Kenya was starting to cut off everyone in her small circle of friends, even Allan and Carmen. At night she was either on the phone plotting the demise of her current lifestyle situation or sneaking out of the house to meet up with Ty.

“Hey, boo, it's me, baby,” whispered Kenya as quietly as she could. “I can't talk long. My sister is bugging out on me about my grades so I gotta at least do some of my homework.”

“Why she be all actin' like a book gonna help you eat out in these streets? She needs to be trying to hook up with my boy. You know for some reason he dig her plain-Jane ass! Plus he's paid, I ain't bullshitting!” Ty cleared his throat after choking on some Kush. “He be pulling in major ends almost every day with these hot box cars we been getting off this lot and he got a sack of this good shit I'm blowing on.” He coughed once more. “For real, Kenya, seriously your sister needs to wise the fuck up and get some of this bread from ol' boy!”

Kenya was beginning to get irritated and annoyed with his conversation and the disrespectful direction it was taking. After it was all done and said, that was her twin sister he was badmouthing and tripping on. Since she had an emotional attachment to him, Kenya didn't pay much attention when he talked shit about her—she could overlook that for the sake of young puppy love—but fuck him dogging London just because he thought he could. He was going too far with his comments and suggestions and she wasn't trying to hear any more of it.

“Listen, Ty, I already done told you I was on the clock with talking to you in the first damn place! Now I got a bright idea for your dropout-ass to process: why don't you stop riding your boy's nut sack so hard, leave my sister's name out your mouth, and show me some fucking attention? How about that, nigga?” Kenya twisted her face up as she spoke each word like she meant it, and of course she did.

Ty, who always thought much more of himself than anyone else ever did, immediately got caught in his feelings, wasting no time going ham. “You know what? Fuck you, Kenya, and your stuck-up-ass ugly sister. I was trying to turn both you bitches on to some real game, but I see once again your ho ass ain't trying to respect my gangster!”

Before Kenya had a chance to respond to that lame-ass bullshit knowledge he was kicking, he'd already slammed the phone down, hanging up on her. She couldn't help but laugh. True enough Ty was her so-called man, so to speak, but he also was a little punk and just about everyone on the west side knew it. He was scared of his own shadow and here he was trying to go for bad.

Whenever they were at the mall or out to the park, he would always stand mute when this guy or that guy tried to push up on Kenya. Later on when she would ask him how come he ain't say shit, he would make up excuses and try to play that shit off like he wasn't low-key terrified of getting his ass handed to him on a platter. Kenya started to think,
Why isn't he just honest with me and himself and speak the truth? He could have just simply said, “Damn, baby, you know I ain't say shit back to them cats 'cause I'm a coward and was scared that nigga was gonna chin check me.”

She almost fell on the floor from laughing so hard at the sheer thought. Tears were rolling down her cheeks from thinking about that entire crazy scenario playing itself out. He'd call back tomorrow, begging as usual. He always did. “Different day, same idiot,” she said out loud. When she finally looked up, Kenya saw her sister looking at her, shaking her head.

“I hope that you're still laughing when you get your grades at the end of this semester,” nagged London in a maternal tone.

Kenya opted not to let her sister in on the joke she found so hilarious. “Yes, Mom, I got you. I'm about to hit the books now.”

The school year seemed to drag on for what seemed like forever and a day. Ironically both girls were growing bored with school and what it had to offer. London, the smartest book-wise, had received the highest GPA semester after semester. She was top of her class in every honor class they offered and that still was not enough to challenge her brain. The devoted scholar often let her mind roam about what the next year would be about and how college campus life would be. London was more than ready to graduate and leave for the university of her choice on a full scholarship. Most of her teachers were incompetent in her eyes and were going to be happy to see her cross that stage. London had this thing for correcting the teachers so much they should have paid her to teach the class. There was no question, hands down, as to who the valedictorian would be that school year: Ms. Amia London Roberts.

Meanwhile, on the other hand, Ms. Amoya Kenya Roberts was also making a name for herself at Central High School. Of course, the self-proclaimed diva was named both homecoming queen and prom queen. That was expected because she was always fly and sociable with her peers. Not to mention after all the flirting she did, every boy at school voted for her, hoping for a date or at least the attention she gave them during the election process. Kenya was also voted “class smile,” “class legs,” “class body,” and what shocked even Kenya was that she, not her academically industrious twin London, was voted most likely to succeed! However, the question that swam in London's mind was,
Succeed at what?