Decision Time (12 page)

“I'm looking forward to working with you. If you'd like, we could schedule some time to practice our lines since the play is really about our two characters.”

“Um, you mean outside of what we're already doing?” I asked for clarification.

“Yeah. You could come over to my place,” Antonio suggested. I gave him a condescending look. I wasn't about to fall for that one.

“I don't think so,” I said.

“Then I'll come over to your house.” He was being persistent.

“You're going to come over to my house?”

“Yeah. I don't have a problem with that unless you do.”

“You do realize that you're not setting one foot in my house without my parents being there?” I wanted him to understand that he wasn't going to get any of my goodies.

“Great. I'd love to meet your folks,” Antonio said confidently.

“You're a bold one, aren't you?”

“What do you mean?”

“You just act as if you're going to get your way,” I explained.

“I'm sort of spoiled like that.” He laughed.

“Let me give your visit some thought,” I said, smiling at him.

“You do that. I'll see you around,” he said and walked away. I went back to my seat, but decided to wait on Maya, who was talking to another student.

“You know, I can't wait for you to mess up,” said Priscilla, who sat down in the row behind me.

“Mess up?” I turned and gave her an ugly glare. “What's wrong with you? Why are you tripping, Priscilla?” I asked flat out.

“You suck at this and as soon as you mess up I'm going to be waiting to take your place,” she said as she popped her chewing gum.

“Whatever!” I said and ignored her comment.

WESLEY

Everything
is so messed up and I have no clue what to do or how to fix it. All I know for sure is that I'm afraid, angry and on some level vengeful. My dad's car is a wreck and although I have a strong idea who vandalized his car, I can't prove it. I told my father a guy from school named Claude might have destroyed the car because I reported him to the principal, but I was only speculating. We made a police report and at the suggestion of the police, we decided to forward the details to the auto insurance company and let an adjuster come out to examine the damage.

Then out of the clear blue, someone drove by Lori's house and opened fire. They found as many as twenty shell casings from three different guns on the ground in front of Lori's home. The number of shots fired was a clear indication that the bandits had one goal in mind, and that was to kill someone. There were no neighbors on the
street at the time of the shooting and the police were currently doing an investigation.

I tried to call Keysha to explain everything to her, but she refused to answer my call, which was annoying. I wanted to talk to her. I wanted to hear her voice; I wanted her to help me get through the mess I was in, but it was becoming extremely clear that Keysha was putting some distance between us.

While at school today, I thought for sure Claude would catch up with me and start a bunch of bull. However, by lunchtime I hadn't seen him or Lori. While I sat at a lunch table eating, I gave Lori a buzz, but she didn't answer. When the dismissal bell rang I walked by her locker, but she wasn't there. I waited around for her as long as I could, but she never showed up. During my journey home, I strolled past her house and noticed police tape wrapped around the gate. I briefly thought about the last time I'd spoken with her, which was after the police had taken a report of the shooting incident. She was still in a frenzy, but had calmed down a little.

“Everyone here is in shock, Wesley,” Lori had begun. “The police said they'll have an extra patrol car drive by the house to make sure the shooters don't come back, but that isn't a comfort to my mother, grandmother, or me,” she said, with an uneasy jaggedness in her voice. “My grandmother nearly had a coronary and my mother is still in an emotion tailspin. She's in the other room packing up a suitcase because we're going to stay at a hotel for a few days.”

“Why?” I asked

“Because the windows have been shot out for starters,”
Lori scolded me for asking what she considered to be a dumb question.

“Why would someone shoot up your home?” I asked, not understanding the mentality of the individuals who'd done that.

“You know what this is about, Wesley. So stop acting as if you don't. Even my mother understands this is about retaliation. She's doesn't like the fact that I'm involved in your court battle.”

“We wouldn't be in court had you not—” I held back my words because I didn't want to say something that I'd regret.

“Had I not what? Made Percy jealous? Is that what you're trying to say? Are you going to place all of the blame on me?”

“I didn't say that, Lori. I just don't think it's right to harass people like this,” I said, trying to defuse the brewing spat dancing around our conversation.

“Wesley, when are you going to take off your blinders and realize that gangbangers don't play by the rules? They do whatever they want whenever they want and however they want. Right now they want us dead and they're not going to stop until we're both six feet under.”

“That's not going to happen, Lori. I won't let it.” I didn't want her to live in fear and uncertainty.

“Yeah, right. You can't stop them, Wesley. None of us can,” Lori uttered and then remained silent for a moment before speaking again. “I'll talk to you later. I hear my mother calling me.”

“Will you be at school tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I'll be there,” Lori said before abruptly disconnecting our call.

 

When I walked into the house, my grandmother and father were sitting at the kitchen table. They both looked as if the weight of the world was on their shoulders.

“Hey. What's going on?” I asked as I set my book bag on the countertop.

“Do you want to tell him or do you want me to?” Grandmother Lorraine glanced at my father for a moment.

“You tell him. I'm just incredibly disgusted by this entire situation.”

“I spoke with Lori's grandmother today.”

“How are they doing? I walked past their house and saw police tape still around the gate.”

“They're not coming back for a while,” Grandmother Lorraine informed me.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Lori and her mother will not be coming back. She didn't tell me where they were going. She just said, ‘We're gone.'”

“They just can't pick up and leave at a time like this.” I couldn't believe this was happening.

“Yes, they can. Their home is going to be repaired and as soon as it's fixed up it's going to be put on the market for sale.”

“That's not the worst of it,” my father said. “About an hour after your grandmother got off the phone with Miss Winston, I received a phone call from the state prosecutor. He actually called looking for you, but got me instead. He had Percy's file in front of him and wanted to discuss the details of our criminal case. To make a long story
short, Lori's absence puts a nail in the coffin as far as getting a conviction goes. Without Lori's testimony there is no witness who can directly link Percy to the shooting.”

“Then let them subpoena her.” I figured we'd get Lori involved one way or another.

“You have to know where someone is to serve a subpoena, Wesley. We don't know where Lori is.”

“Well, find out from Miss Winston,” I said.

“She's not saying a word. She told me that if the police ask her where Lori or her mother is, she's going to simply say she doesn't know,” explained Grandmother Lorraine. “Lori and her mother weren't under any court order to remain here in Indianapolis.”

“Then let the police track them through bank records or something like that. I've seen them do that a million times on the show
Law & Order
,” I suggested.

“Wesley, you're missing the point, son. The police aren't going to do that because Lori and her mom haven't committed a crime. They're not under investigation. If the subpoena had been served before they left, it would be different. But it wasn't.”

“So what are you saying? Percy is going get away with this? He gets to shoot me and nothing happens to him!” I was really ticked off.

Dad took a deep breath and then exhaled. “The prosecutor says that we have a very weak case and the chances of a conviction are very slim. I'm just as upset and ticked off about this as you are. But our hands are tied.”

“What if Lori comes back? What if I find her and get her to testify?”

“I didn't ask that question, but I suppose it would only help to build a stronger case. However, if her parents don't want her to get involved, Wesley, there isn't much we can do about it.”

I paused in thought. “So what's to stop Percy from getting out of jail and shooting me again? This is crazy! I might as well get a gun and blow his damn head off myself!” I howled out like a roaring lion.

“Percy isn't getting out of jail.” My dad met my roar with one of his own before he went on to give more details.

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

“When the police picked Percy up for questioning they found drugs on him, which was a violation of his parole.”

“Wait a minute. Percy was on parole? What for?”

“The prosecutor wouldn't tell me. He was being generous when he shared that information. He said that Percy is not likely to be getting out anytime soon.”

“So what happens now?” I asked, feeling as if I'd just gotten screwed over by our broken judicial system.

“Our house will be ready next week. We'll be going home. Your grandmother is also going to come and stay with us for a while. Just until some of the tension here settles down.”

“Good, because I hate this town. I can't wait to get out of this crazy madhouse of a city!” I spoke from my heart before heading to my room to ponder my predicament of defeat and disgrace.

“Wesley, we haven't lost. We'll file a civil lawsuit.” Dad was unwilling to concede to defeat.

“If you say so, Dad.” As I steadied my balance to
descend the staircase, my shoulder began to ache. I made a mental note to talk to my dad about setting up therapy sessions once we returned home.

KEYSHA

Sometimes
I gaze into my own eyes and wonder if I have the courage to get through a particular set of circumstances. This morning I awoke with an achy pain in my heart. My distress started off very subtle, but as I arose from my bed the feeling began to grow. When I took a moment to truly acknowledge the throbbing sensation, I diagnosed my condition as a broken heart. Over the past few days I'd been so angry with Wesley that I hadn't really given myself a chance to grieve the loss of my relationship with him. However, on this day, my heart decided it was time for me to shed some tears over a guy who meant the world to me. I went into the bathroom, grabbed a face towel and took my usual position on the rim of the bathtub. I slumped my head between my legs and began to sob. I tried to cry quietly, but once my emotions gained control over me, silent mourning wasn't possible. There was a light knock on the bathroom door.

“Hey, are you okay in there?” Mike's ears were obviously sensitive to my crying.

“I'm fine,” I said, trying to assure him.

“You sound like a wounded wolf. Are you sure?”

“Mike, I'm okay, just a little emotional this morning. I'm cramping up,” I lied so he'd leave me alone.

“Oh. My bad.” I'd embarrassed him—I could tell by the way his footsteps hurriedly moved away from the door. Once I'd had a good cry about Wesley, I wrangled up my dribbling emotions and put them in check as best as I could. Then I prepared for what was surely going to be a very long school day.

At the end of the day I walked to Maya's locker. Her boyfriend Misalo was already there kissing her lustfully. Their tongues were dancing inside of each other's mouths in perfect rhythm. A little too flawless if you ask me, because they hadn't noticed me gawking at them.

“Ahem…” I cleared my throat so they'd cease their public display of affection.

“Girl!” Maya turned to see who was interrupting her make-out session. “You shouldn't walk up on me like that. I was about to beat you down for interfering with my blissful moment.”

“Sorry about that,” I answered, slightly jealous of the fact that Maya had a boyfriend and I didn't.

“Keysha, this is my boo, Misalo,” Maya said, finally introducing us. Misalo was a rather interesting-looking guy. He had silky-smooth chocolate-brown skin, downy lips and curly ringlets of black hair, which looked handsomely beautiful on him.

“Hi. It's nice to finally meet you.” He smiled then extended his hand. I reached out to shake it.

“It's nice to meet you, as well,” I said, suddenly thinking about what Maya had told me about wanting to have sex with him. If I were his girlfriend I must admit the thought would have certainly crossed my mind. Especially since he had a spectacular grade of hair. Misalo said goodbye and Maya watched him as he walked away.

“He is so hot and you guys make the perfect couple,” I said, giving Maya my honest opinion of their union.

“I know, and I constantly have to fight the chickenheads who want a piece of him,” Maya complained. “Even the grown women look at him as if they'd eat him up if he wasn't so young. But I told him if I ever catch him with another girl, I'm going to do what Rihanna should've done to Chris Brown and start cutting off body parts,” Maya said as she closed her locker, making sure it was securely shut.

“Are you ready for practice?” I asked as we moved down the corridor toward the auditorium.

“I guess. I was late trying to memorize my lines,” Maya said.

“So was I. But I fell asleep from exhaustion. I had so much homework to do,” I whined.

“Well, you'd better find some energy and quick because you have a lot of lines to learn and the director expects you to know them by heart.” Maya explained the intensity of the work that was on the road ahead.

“But, Maya, my teachers are loading me up with a ton of bull. I have papers, tests and lab projects. I'm starting to go crazy with the workload.”

“You're not the only one trying to juggle a mountain of work.” Maya laughed a little. “Relax, Keysha. You're going to get through this,” Maya said as we entered the auditorium.

We walked toward the stage and placed our book bags in an empty seat. The director made sure that everyone had a dialogue sheet and then asked the characters from the opening scene to go onto the stage. Antonio and I went on stage. I sat in a chair on one side of the stage and he sat in a chair at the opposite end. The director instructed the light crew how to light the stage with one spotlight illuminating each of us. Then I was asked to read my lines. When I was finished the director gave me some strong criticism about my delivery and asked me to do it again, and again and again until I was sick and tired of hearing my own voice. Once the director was done with me, he moved on to Antonio. Once we were done, I went back to my seat to watch Maya perform.

“So when are we going to hook up for a practice session?” Antonio asked as he sat down next to me. I glanced at him and the only thing I could think about was kissing him. “How does Saturday at noon sound to you?” he asked.

Sometimes, when I'm nervous, I talk too fast and my tongue flops around in my mouth. My words sounded awful, like a cartoon character's once an anvil had been dropped on his head. “That's sounds fine,” I said nervously. I took a breath and repeated myself. “That sounds like a great idea,” I answered. “Where would you like to meet?”

“Why don't we meet here at the school? I'm sure the auditorium will be open,” Antonio suggested.

“Okay,” I said, not putting up much of a fight. Antonio and I watched every performance. There were several times when his leg rested against my own. I didn't know if he was touching me purposely or if he honestly didn't realize it. Either way, I didn't say anything. I just quietly enjoyed the feel of his strong leg resting against me. I closed my eyes and fantasized about the two of us sitting alone in the darkened auditorium kissing and touching each other. I imagined myself surrendering to his strong embrace while enjoying the scent of some expensive cologne he was wearing. I inhaled deeply a few times before I was jolted out of my daydream by a sharp kick to the back of my seat. I immediately turned around.

“Oh, I'm sorry about that,” Priscilla said, offering up a fake apology. “My leg just jerks like that sometimes.”

“Kick my seat again and you're getting a beat down,” I threatened.

“Shh!” The director turned in his seat and gave me an evil look.

“It wasn't me,” I quickly said, but he didn't seem to care who it was; he just wanted silence while he worked with Maya and several other performers. I turned my attention back to Priscilla, who had a smug smile on her face that I wanted to slap off.

“You shouldn't be sitting there anyway,” she whispered, still wanting to aggravate me.

“Last time I checked it was a free country, and a person could sit down anywhere they pleased,” I asserted in a hushed whisper.

“I know what you're trying to do and—”

“Priscilla! Will you just chill out?” Antonio finally turned around in his seat and said something.

“No, I won't chill out,” Priscilla snapped at him.

“Hey! Be
quiet
while they're on stage!” the director snapped at us.

“I need to get some air,” Antonio said, rising to his feet. He walked up the aisle and exited the theater.

“Priscilla, you're onstage next,” said the director.

“Now watch and learn from a real actress at work. I'll nail my lines on the first take,” Priscilla boldy affirmed as she made her way to the stage.

 

When I arrived home it was almost eight o'clock in the evening. I walked into the house and kicked my shoes off at the door. I lugged my book bag up the stairs and into the family room, where Jordan was sitting on the sofa snuggled up with Barbara watching a movie they'd rented. Jordan hit the pause button.

“How did it go?” he asked.

“Yeah, what was it like?” asked Barbara.

“Long,” I whined. “I've really got to learn my part. I've got to learn how to step into character and project my voice. I had to keep reading the same lines over and over and over again until I got it right.”

“It sounds like this is going to be a real challenge for you,” Barbara said as she rose to her feet. She walked past me and into the kitchen.

“Challenge is an understatement,” I said.

“I left your dinner on the stove. You can heat it up once
you get settled in.” Barbara opened up the refrigerator and removed a cold soda.

“I'll come back down and reheat it. Right now I need to get upstairs and start on my homework.” I was about to drag my book bag up to my room.

“Why don't you use my office, Keysha? It's easy to fall asleep when you're doing homework while sitting on your bed.”

“Fine,” I griped as I lugged my belongings back down the stairs and into Jordan's office.

After eating dinner and drinking two energy drinks, I'd gotten a good jolt of adrenaline and I began doing my homework. However, about a few hours later, I crashed so badly I fell asleep sitting upright in Jordan's desk chair. Eventually, Jordan came into the room and woke me up.

“Keysha,” he said, shaking my shoulder.

“What?” I answered groggily.

“Go get into your bed. It's midnight,” he said.

“Mid-what?” My mind was still in a fog.

“Go to bed. Come on.” Jordan helped me stand on my feet and then guided me out of his office and out of the basement. I lazily walked up the stairs and into my bedroom. As soon as my head landed on my pillow, I drifted off into a deep sleep.