Kendra (11 page)

The only reason I wake up is because they’re talking about me.

“And can’t nobody tell me she ain’t into them boys already,” I hear Nana say. She’s in the kitchen, talking all loud. For some reason my heart starts beating faster. Maybe she does know about me and Nashawn. “You should see her,” she says, “walking out here in the morning wearing all kinds of tight jeans and skirts, buying thongs,
thongs
, and acting like
that girl
upstairs. And reading them little ghetto romance novels and hiding them like I don’t know everything she does.”

That’s when I hear Renée laugh.

“Girl,” Nana goes on, “I just hope she’s not getting no ideas from those books, ’cause I done told that girl I’m going to have her checked if I even suspect anything.”

“Are you still threatening her with that?” Renée laughs again. “You tried that with me and you see how well it worked, right?”

I lay there, waiting for Renée to say more, to defend me. To tell Nana that just because I read those books, don’t mean I’m
a ho. Because I’m not.
I don’t think I am
. I wait for Renée to tell her that I’m just like any other normal fourteen-year-old girl. But she don’t say anything. Not that anything she says would get Nana off my back, anyway.

I look over at my alarm clock, and it’s already after eleven o’clock. I wish I knew what time Renée got home and how long they been talking about me.

I try to sit up in bed, but my stomach twists and I have to lay still because I really don’t wanna throw up again. So I wait a few minutes before trying to move again. Then, just as I’m sitting up, I hear Nana say, “So, what’s this about an apartment?”

“Yeah, I can’t believe how lucky I got. I was telling someone at City about how I need to find a place, and she introduced me to this professor in the foreign languages department who’s been looking for someone to sublet her place from now ’til the end of the year. So I stopped by after work and she took me over there to take a look at it.”

What she’s saying surprises me. She found us a place so fast? And what does this mean? That I’m gonna be moving outta here soon? That me and Renée don’t have to wait to live together by ourselves?

“Where is it?” Nana asks.

“Oh, it’s a studio apartment in a real nice brownstone in Harlem. It’s small but really cute.”

I sit perfectly still on the bed, so they won’t know I’m awake. But I can’t really breathe, not completely. I don’t know what she’s saying. What does she mean, a studio? Isn’t that just like an apartment with one room?

“Brownstone? Harlem?” Nana sounds as confused as me.

“Look, Ma,” Renée says. “I know you didn’t think I was
moving back here. I mean, I didn’t get a Ph.D. so I could live in the projects again.”

“And what about Babe?”

I hold my breath and listen for Renée’s answer.

“God. I just got out of school. This is my first job!”

“Don’t start that with me again.”

“I’m just saying I need time, that’s all.”

“Time for what?”

“Just time,” Renée says.

And I sit and wait. I wanna hear everything. I need to hear what Renée’s gonna say when she don’t know I’m listening. I have to know the truth, now that she don’t have school as an excuse anymore.

“Renée.” I can hear the frustration in Nana’s voice. “We’re not going to have this discussion no more, because you’re wearing on my last nerve, you understand me? I don’t want to hear no more of your high siddity talk tonight, nothing about how you’re too good to be in Bronxwood, because we both know that shit ain’t gonna fly with me, pardon my French. And we both know that one way or another the time’s gonna come when—”

“Please, Ma,” Renée whines, the way she always does when things don’t look like they’re going her way. “I haven’t even started working yet. What do you want from me?”

I know what I want from her. It’s what I always want from her.

“I want you to grow up!” Nana shouts. “You expect me to do this forever? When you going to start thinking about somebody other than yourself?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

The argument between the two of them goes on and on, and before I even think about it good, I’m laying down again, back under the covers.

When I was little, I used to cry when Nana and Renée had this argument, get in the middle and try to get them to stop. I would tell Renée it was okay she was going back to school and promise Nana I would be good and not get in her way too much. Stuff like that. Just to get them to stop fighting.

But there’s no reason to do that anymore. I get it now. Nothing’s ever gonna change. Their arguments are always gonna end the same way. With Renée gone and me stuck right here.

In the morning, I wanna die, that’s how bad I feel. My head and stomach still hurt, and I’m freezing and hot at the same time. Not to mention how much my body hurts from what Nashawn did to me yesterday.

But none of that even comes close to how bad I feel inside when I think about what Renée said last night, how she don’t want me. It’s like there’s this giant hole inside of me now, and it’s never gonna close, no matter what.

Nana comes into my room. “How are—?” She stops talking when she sees me. “Oh, my goodness. You look terrible.”

“I feel terrible,” I say, but I mumble it into the pillow and I’m sure she can’t hear me.

Nana leans over the bed and feels my head. “You’re burning up.”

“I’m cold,” I say.

“Come, let me help you to the bathroom,” she says. “And I’ll make some tea to warm you up.”

Nana helps me up, and it’s not easy because I feel weak and
shaky. When we get out into the hall, I hear Luther playing again in the living room, and again Renée is singing. As I walk to the bathroom with Nana’s help, I’m trying to figure out how Renée can do that, just sing like she’s all happy, like nothing happened last night.

When I’m done in the bathroom, Nana gives me her heavy robe to put on and she walks with me down to the kitchen. As I pass the living room, Renée stops singing and says, “Hey, Babe.” She smiles, but I’m not really sure how much of that smile is for me and how much is left over from Luther.

So I don’t say anything back. I go into the kitchen with Nana and sit down, waiting for her to make the tea. A few minutes later, Renée comes in and says, “What’s going on?”

Nana flashes her a look, and her face is all tight and hard—I can tell she’s still mad at Renée from last night. “She’s sick,” Nana says. “You don’t remember I told you she was throwing up yesterday?”

“Yeah, but—”

“She got a fever. The flu.”

Renée comes over and puts her hand on my head, but it don’t even feel right to me. As far as I know, this is the first time she ever done it. “You are pretty hot,” she says.

I don’t say anything to that. I mean, she should have been able to take one look at me and see that. A real mother would have.

Her cell phone rings in the living room and she runs to get it, saying, “Oh, I hope that’s Gerard.”

I pull the robe tighter around me, but it’s not helping at all. I’m still shivering. And I’m listening to Renée on her phone, and she’s talking and laughing like everything’s okay. But she’s
just probably all excited about her
studio
apartment, the one that’s just for her.

And I’m thinking,
Wouldn’t a real mother be able to tell that I’m not just sick, that I’m in pain, too? Real pain. Why can’t she see that?

If I wasn’t sick, I would go in the living room right now and tell Renée I heard everything she said last night. And I would ask her why she don’t want me.

But I can’t get into that kinda conversation today. Not in this condition.

Nana brings me my tea and I drink it fast, and it does kinda help me get rid of the chills. After the second cup, Nana helps me back to my room and tells me to get some sleep today, that she’ll call the school to tell them I’m not coming. She even puts a glass of orange juice and the cordless phone by my bed, and tells me she’s gonna call me later to see how I’m doing.

When she leaves the room, I bury myself under the covers and try to get warm. I’m only half asleep when I hear Nana and Renée. It’s hard to really make out what they’re saying because the music is still playing, but I hear enough to know they’re fighting again. And it’s all because of me.

“…a selfish daughter like you.”

“Look,” Renée says. “I don’t need this today, okay?”

“Well, it’s the first time you
don’t
need something.” Nana’s voice is loud and sharp, and it cuts right through the music.

“What do I ever ask you for?” Renée shouts back. “What?”

“Girl, don’t get me started this early in the morning.”

The doorbell stops them, and a few seconds later, I hear Adonna’s voice. I should have called her to tell her I wasn’t going to school.

I close my eyes and hope she don’t come to my room. Because I really don’t know how to face her. It was bad enough yesterday, but now, after what me and Nashawn actually did in the dressing room, there’s no way I can look at her and act natural.

I need time. Time to sleep and time to stop thinking about everything and everyone. What I wish is that I had enough time to forget about what I heard and what I did. But I know that’s not gonna happen.

“Here. It’s a boy, for you.”

I open my eyes to see that Nana’s in my room, handing me the phone. The door is open and the light coming in from the hallway is burning my eyes.

I been sick and in bed for almost two whole days, feeling just about as bad as a person can. Yesterday, Adonna came by after school, but I acted like I was asleep. Because I still didn’t wanna face her, and I definitely didn’t wanna hear if her and Nashawn ate lunch together or if he finally asked her out. I was sick enough.

Then late last night, Kenny stopped by after he locked up the truck. He brought up some of those little packets of Comtrex he sells, and he sat with me and told me how he saw Nana and Clyde kissing in the car when Clyde dropped her off after work. “She’s into that dude,” Kenny said, laughing. “Can’t believe, after all this time, Nana done caught herself a man!”

I was still kinda outta it, so all I remember saying to him
was, “Shh, she’s gonna hear you.” But Kenny didn’t care, and I was too sick to stop him from snapping on her.

Now, with Nana standing over my bed, it takes me a few seconds to catch up to what she just said to me.
A boy? On the phone for me?

Then, in my next breath, my mind jumps to Nashawn and I’m thinking,
Would he really call me? And why?

I look up at Nana’s angry face and ask, “A boy?”

“That’s what I said.”

I take the phone from her, dreading the sound of Nashawn’s voice, and say, “Hello?”

“Kendra? It’s me.”

Darnell.

“Oh, hi,” I say, my voice coming out kinda breathy, more out of relief than anything else.

“Hey, I’m sorry to bother you, but I haven’t seen you around school and I heard you were sick, so I just wanted to see how you’re doing.”

“I have the flu,” I tell him. “But I’m a little better now.”

“That’s good. Uh, I hope I didn’t get you in trouble, calling you, or anything. Because your mom started giving me the third degree just now.”

I look up at Nana. She’s staring at me with her hands on her hips. Why did Darnell have to call me and get her started? Now I’m gonna be hearing about this for weeks.

“No, it’s okay. And that wasn’t my mom. It was my grandmother. I live with her.”

“She must not like guys calling you, the way she was questioning me about who am I and what I need to talk to you about.”

“You’re right about that,” I say. “How did you get my phone number?” I’m asking because, yeah, I wanna know. But, really, because I want Nana to know I’m not the one that gave it to him.

“Oh, I got it off the stage crew contact list. I hope you don’t mind, but—”

“No, that’s okay. It’s fine.”

“I missed seeing you around, and now that the showcase is over, it’s like I don’t get to see you every day anymore.”

He stops talking and I can’t think of anything to say, either, especially with Nana judging everything that’s coming outta my mouth.

“Kendra?” Darnell asks like I went somewhere.

“Yeah?”

“Can I tell you something?”

“What?”

He waits a couple of seconds, then says, “I like you. I mean, a lot. And every time I’m around you I don’t know what happens, but—”

“I know.” I try to keep my face blank, like he just told me something about the weather, because Nana’s real good at figuring out what people are saying on the other end of the telephone. But it’s kinda hard not reacting, because I never had a guy tell me he liked me before. I mean, there was Nashawn, but that was different.

The only thing is, I’m not sure if it feels right, because maybe Darnell only
thinks
he likes me. Maybe I’m not the same person he likes anymore.

“You already knew I liked you?” he asks.

“Yeah,” I say, and think about telling him it was Adonna
that told me. But I don’t want him thinking we were talking about him behind his back or anything.

Another few seconds go by with nobody saying anything.

“You really knew?”

It’s hard not to giggle. “Yeah.”

“Well, I wanna talk to you, okay? When are you coming back to school?”

“Tomorrow, probably.” Nana is still staring, and I know I have to change the subject before she figures out what we’re talking about. “If I’m not back tomorrow, then tell Mr. Melendez that I’ll definitely be there for the set striking on Friday. I know I have a responsibility to the stage crew and I’m going to do everything I can to make it. And, um, thanks for calling.”

“Got you,” he says. “Grandma’s breathing down your neck, isn’t she?”

“Yes,” I say. “I’ll be there.”

“Bye, Kendra,” he says. “See you tomorrow.”

I click off the phone and sit up all the way in bed. “That was Darnell from the stage crew,” I tell Nana, giving her back the phone. “He just wanted to make sure I was going to be there to help them take the set apart on Friday.”

“Hmmph,” she says. And I can tell by the way the corners of her mouth turn down and her lips straighten out that she don’t believe me all the way.

“Is Renée home yet?” I ask, but as soon as the words are outta my mouth, I don’t know why I asked. Because I don’t really wanna see her. I mean, I don’t think I do. I probably just asked outta habit or something.

“She came home, changed, then left again,” Nana says.
“That girl. She needs to stop acting like she’s still in college and get serious already.”

Part of me can’t help feeling all let down. Here I am sick and, in two days, she only came to my room a couple of times. Every time she was on her way somewhere, to work or out to dinner or to sleep.

And for some reason I still haven’t said anything to her about what I heard her tell Nana the other night. I don’t know, but now that I had a couple of days to think about everything, what’s the point of even bringing it up with her? She either wants me to live with her or she don’t, right?

I mean, what am I supposed to do to change her mind? What
can
I do?

Nothing
, that’s what. Nothing.