Losing Romeo (4 page)

Nicole—Watching from the Sidelines

I ain't
even going to lie. The idea that Phoenix's perfect world may be crashing down around her head is doing nothing but putting a smile on my face. After all, the blood flowing between us has never meant much to her, so why should it mean anything to me? God knows that I've tried I don't know how many times to be a true sister—let alone a friend—only to have my efforts laughed at and ridiculed.

To be truthful, I have thought about dropping a dime on Phoenix several times, in fact. But what I told Kierra is the truth. People shoot the messenger all the time. Of course, there is that thin possibility that if my father is disappointed in Phoenix he will then start looking toward me a little more favorably, but the chances of that are so minuscule that it's not really worth the risk.

I'm not as pretty as Phoenix, and my failed attempt to land on the cheerleading squad has done more damage to my ego than I tend to let on, but none of that means that
somehow I deserve less love. The situation with my father is best described as: f—ed up.

My father, a successful and upstanding member in the world of finance once upon a time, strayed from his wife's bed, had an affair with my mother and ta-da. My mom, more or less, uses me to get money, jewelry and whatever else she can think of out of him. As far as receiving love, nurturing and all that other good stuff, I can hang it up. I swear it seems like I spend half my life wishing that I was Phoenix. She is the one who lives in the big fancy house, has her own car at fifteen and is latched onto the arm of the captain of the football team. Could it get any more perfect than that?

It's all superficial, and it's all not supposed to mean anything. Blah. Blah. But isn't that just what people who don't have those things tell themselves so they can feel better? If I'm wrong, it certainly doesn't feel that way.

As for my parents, they're not supposed to still be messing around. At least, that's the lie that they try to keep selling to Phoenix and her mother. I keep my mouth shut about that, too. What can I say? I'm just a treasure trove of secrets. No one expects me to talk, but I certainly dream about it.

I bet that would get everyone's attention. Phoenix's mother would stop pretending I don't exist. Phoenix would stop the Redbones from picking on me. And my dad…that's a big blank. I don't know what to hope for with our relationship.

The person who has always been nice to me, surprisingly, is Romeo. And he never allowed his boys Chris and Shadiq to talk out the sides of their necks toward me. Which is
why I think I'm genuinely surprised how that whole ugliness at Shadiq's party went down. It seems completely out of character for him to treat Anjenai like he did. I'm more than disappointed in him. Seeing that side of him, I now think that he and Phoenix deserve one another.

I don't have any regrets coming to the BFFs' defense that night. The BFFs are the only real friends I've ever had. Actually, it felt pretty good to finally fight back. I reach out and grab my slice of pizza. Before I shove it into my mouth. I catch a strange look from Kierra.

“What?” I ask her.

Kierra's little shoulders bob up and down. “Nothing.” She stabs her salad and then shovels it into her mouth.

Anjenai plops down next to us. “Where's Tyler?” she asks.

“Don't know,” I say. “I haven't seen her since first period.”

“Humph!” Anjenai pulls out her brown-bag lunch and proceeds to attack the bologna sandwich.

“I'm sure she's around here somewhere,” Kierra says, unconcerned. “Most likely she's in the principal's office for fighting with someone again.”

I nod, because in the short time that I've known Tyler, I've learned that the girl loves to fight for any and all reasons.

“I don't think we can talk,” Anjenai observes. “Seeing how we tend to get in just as many.”

“That's because we're her backup,” Kierra points out.

“Exactly.”

We all share a chuckle.

“Eventually, we're going to have to talk to her about all this fighting,” Kierra says.

I laugh. “What? Like an intervention?”

“Something. Tyler is just begging to go to juvie, and I ain't trying to go out like that.”

“It's not
that
bad,” Anjenai says.

“You're in denial,” Kierra retorts. “It doesn't help that she's been spending a lot of time with Michelle and Trisha—you know, the girls who used to hang with Billie Grant.”

“You're kidding,” Anjenai says.

Kierra shrugs. “That's what I heard.”

We stare at her like she just told us that she believes in UFOs. Anjenai's gaze shifts over to me. “Have you heard about this?”

“I think I've seen her with Michelle in the hallway before, but I didn't think that they were friends friends, you know.”

“Are you sure?” Anje asks Kierra again.

“Yeah. They were hanging out pretty heavy during the time that y'all two were really beefing. I thought it was strange, but dismissed it.”

Anje glances back over to me. “Maybe we do need an intervention.”

“That's going to go well,” I say dubiously. The first time I ever met Tyler she was talking wild and putting Romeo in his place when he stepped to her. For a minute there, I actually thought that he had a thing for Tyler and not Anjenai. In fact, I was sure of it. The way things are shaping up I'll need a flowchart to keep up with this high-school soap opera.

“Okay,” Anje says, clapping her hands together. “How about we plan a sleepover at her place, since her father is always gone and there's no room at my place.”

Kierra shook her head. “I have to watch McKenya at night while Deborah's working. Let's have it at my place.” She turns to me. “Think you can come?”

The very idea of a sleepover thrills me. I've never been invited to a sleepover. “Sure. When?”

“How about this weekend? Saturday night?”

“Count me in,” I say, probably a little too eager to spend my first night in the projects. That must be what leads me to ask, “It is safe, isn't it?”

Kierra and Anjenai laugh.

My face reddens with embarrassment, I say, “Okay. Stupid question. Forget I asked.”

I glance down at my tray, and I'm surprised to see that I've eaten everything without realizing it. That's been happening a lot. I eat, but I never really get full. One thing's for sure, my clothes are definitely getting tighter. Maybe I'll go on a diet tomorrow. But I kind of tell myself that every day. I'll start tomorrow. I'll start tomorrow. That's the story of my life.

The truth is, the minute I tell myself that I'm on a diet and I can't have something sweet or fattening, then all of a sudden I want it ten times more. Diets don't last just a couple of days with me. They last just a couple of
hours.
The bottom line is that I'm an emotional eater. I eat when I'm sad. I eat when I'm stressed. I eat when I'm bored.

The bell rings, and we all pop out of our chairs like jack-in-the-boxes.

“This weekend,” Anjenai says. “Don't forget.”

I grab my tray and rush over to stack it with the other dirty trays next to the garbage cans. When I'm halfway there, a pair of voices drifts over to me.

“Did you see how much food she put away? That girl is like a human garbage disposal.”

Laughter.

I turn and glance over my shoulder to see Bianca and Raven.

“What?” Raven challenges. “You got something to say, wide-ass?” The people at the table they're standing next to start a ripple of laughter.

They turn and walk away, and I stand there like a fool while tears streak down my face.

Romeo—Trapped

It's
killing me that she won't talk to me—even though I can't blame her. I did take her to Shadiq's party and then abandon her to talk to Phoenix. The way the whole situation went down, I was more shocked about becoming a father than anything else—I'm still in shock. I wish I knew how to fix all of this. If I could just get five minutes alone with her. No interruptions and without a whole school of kids milling around us, so I can just explain what happened that night. Even then I don't think it would do any good. What I did was pretty messed up.

How many ways can someone say that they're sorry? How many times? What will it take for the other person to believe you?

“Damn, man. You got it bad.”

I glance up to see Shadiq, who's smiling and shaking his head. “What?”

“You heard me. You got it bad. I mean, damn, have you even heard a word we've said in the last five minutes?”

I glance to my right to see Chris looking at me and shaking his head.

“C'mon. You know I got a lot on my mind.”

“Yeah. It looks like you still have Anjenai on your mind,” Shadiq concludes as we herd out of the cafeteria and head toward the gym.

“You're a strange brother,” Chris says. “I'll tell you that. Exactly how many baby mamas are you trying to make, anyway?” he laughs.

“Ha. Ha. You're a regular Chris Rock.”

“Me? You were the one trying to stare a damn hole in the girl's head during lunch. Shit. If you want to talk to her so bad, why didn't you just walk your ass over there? Or were you scared she and her girls were going to open another can of whup-ass on you?” He and Shadiq laughed.

I just shake my head because I don't have a defense. I did want to go over and try to talk to Anjenai again, but feared she or her girls would make a scene. Isn't that the reason girls travel in packs?

“Aw.” Chris nods. “Li'l bookworm won't give you the time of day now, huh?”

“Man, get out my face with that nonsense.”

“Shit. Have you seen yourself lately?”

To my right, Shadiq lifts his camera phone and snaps a picture. He takes a look, shakes his head and then shows it to me. “Crying shame, man. You need to pull it together before people start thinking you're in love with someone other than your baby mama.”

They crack up again while I swat the phone away. “I got ninety-nine problems, and y'all are two of them.”

My boys continue to laugh at my silly ass as we enter the boys' locker room to dress up for gym. “Why are you giving me a hard time, anyway?” I say to Chris. “Didn't you go to the party with Anje's girl Kierra?”

The smile fell off Chris's face. I must have hit a sore spot.

“Man, forget that l'il bitch. She ain't about nothing but wasting a brother's time.”

“Ah. That must mean that she didn't give you none,” Shadiq howls.

“Sheiiit.” Chris twists up his face. “When have you ever known me to strike out? I don't play that. I'm the original panty dropper.”

Me and Shadiq crack the hell up over that.

“Nah. Nah, man. I'm being for real.” Chris's chest swells up as he boasts. “I hit that shit at the party.”

My laugh fades a bit as I try to evaluate whether he's telling the truth or not.

“Puh-lease,” Shadiq says. “We supposed to believe that you was with that girl and you ain't said shit about it? I ain't never known you to hold water.”

Chris shrugs his shoulders as he opens his locker. “What's there to tell? I hit it and split it. That's a regular Friday night for me.”

“Man, you're full of shit,” Shadiq concludes.

Our disbelief seems to agitate Chris. “Nah, man. I'm being straight up. That girl was all over me that night. The shit didn't come no easier. I gave her a little something to drink so she could get her buzz on, we started sucking on each other's necks and then I led her to one of the bedrooms
and pounded her into the headboard for a few minutes.” He tossed up his hands like he'd scored a touchdown. “Now what y'all know about that?”

I look Chris up and down and I think I'm starting to believe him. “Sooo what happened? You slept with the girl and then turned around and kicked her out of the party?” I ask, trying to wrap my brain around what he was saying.

Chris shrugs his shoulders. “Hell, I was done.”

“Did you use protection?” I ask.

“What the…? Did
you?
” Chris laughs in my face. “How you gonna clock me? You're the only baby daddy in this group.”

“That's exactly why I'm checking you. Don't you think one is one too many?”

“Whoa. Don't be pinning your problem on me, man. Besides, the way I see it, if these chicks ain't on birth control, that ain't our fault.”

Okay, now I can't believe what I'm hearing. “What?”

“C'mon, man,” Chris whines and shakes his head. “These chicks know what we're about. If they don't, then that is called bad parenting. Hell, we're fifteen. We're supposed to have just one thing on our minds. And frankly, most of these girls are just as horny as we are. Kierra wanted it just as much as I did, but she gonna sit up there and start crying.”

“WHAT?” Shadiq and I thunder.

“Nah, man. I'm just saying.” He shrugs.

“She was
crying?
” I ask for clarification.

“How was I to know that she was a virgin? She wasn't acting like one.”

Before I can even think straight I have my boy jacked up against the wall. “Did you rape her?”

“WHAT? Hell, naw, man!”

Everyone in the locker room freezes.

Chris tries to push back. “Let go of me, man. What the hell is wrong with you? How you gonna accuse me of some bullshit like that? That ain't how it went down.” He glances over my shoulder at Shadiq. “What, you gonna just stand there? Help get him off me.”

Shadiq shakes his head like he doesn't want any part of this.

“Why don't you concentrate on answering my questions,” I bark.

Chris looks me dead in my eye and states, “NO. I DID NOT!”

No lie, I'm torn between throwing a punch and letting this slide. But after staring him down for a while, I decide that he's telling the truth and let him go. I watch as he slides back down the wall.

“Damn, man,” Chris croaks. “What's up with you? You gonna tell me that you got the hots for Kierra, too?”

“Man, close your mouth and calm your ass down,” I say, turning away. The moment I do I hear him trying to rush me, but Shadiq quickly steps in between us and shoves him back against the wall.

“You heard him. Calm down.”

“Oh. It's like that?” Chris accuses, looking hurt.

Realizing that Chris needs to save face, Shadiq puts him in a playful headlock. “Chill. Man, you know that we're
just messing with you,” he says with a laugh. “You know we're boys.”

Everyone relaxes, believing that beef was our way of joking around. He releases Chris, but Chris still doesn't look too pleased.

“Boys, huh?” His gaze shifts back and forth between me and Shadiq. “You can't prove that by me.” He grabs his stuff and storms off.

We just watch him go.

“Think he'll calm down?” I ask.

Shadiq shrugs his shoulders. “Yeah. He'll be all right.” He returns his attention to me. “I did think that you were going to bust one square in his mouth, though.” He laughs. “Just how many chicks are you juggling?”

“Not funny,” I say, rushing to change clothes.

“I wasn't trying to be funny.”

“Kierra is a nice girl,” I say.

“
And
she's Anjenai's best friend,” he adds.

“So?” I snap.

“I'm just saying.”

I drop the subject and finish changing. When he heads on down to the gym, Shadiq asks, “So what are you and Phoenix going to do?”

“Man, I don't have the slightest damn idea.”

There's a slight pause before Shadiq says, “Look. I ain't trying to start nothing between you and your girl, but—”

I glance over at him. “What? Come on with it.”

“I don't know.” He shrugs, clearly uncomfortable with this subject. “Do you think that she did this shit on purpose?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you know how Phoenix is. Don't you find it a little convenient that she gets pregnant just when you two break it off?”

I laugh. “Entrapment?”

“Yeah. Shit. My dad tells me all the time to never put anything past a female. You know what I'm saying? This stuff happens all the time—especially to athletes. If a girl thinks that you have the potential to be something, she tries to sink her claws in you early. Now I know that sounds like some sexist shit but it's held up by the facts.”

I just look at him.

“You don't think that Phoenix isn't above trying to trap you with a baby?”

I don't even want to answer that.

“Well, you just marinate in it for a little while.”

We exchange dabs.

In the gym, Coach Whittaker and her assistant are talking to this new dude I ain't seen before. “Who that?”

Shadiq looks up. “Oh. New kid. Transferred down here from New York. He's in my homeroom. His dad is in the music entertainment business and starting a label down here.”

“What's his name?”

“Kwan something or another.”

I note the strange look in Shadiq's eye. “What? Is the dude a rapper or something?” I ask only because Shadiq's love outside of football is music. He's been plotting and planning his debut in the rap game since we were in elementary school. He views anyone who claims that he can rhythm as an enemy.

“I don't know. He says that he can flow and shit.”

“Oh. So you want a battle.”

“If the boy thinks that he can spit, why not?”

I give the new dude another glance and check out his style and shine. I have to admit the boy is representing. And judging by the way the girls are giggling and pointing he's going to be some serious competition for some of the fellahs. “Before you think about battling him, maybe you need to find out what his connect is.”

Shadiq frowns.

“I mean, if his dad really is in the business, then maybe he's your ticket into the game.”

I see my boy processing that information and his whole vibe changes.

“Yeah. Yeah. You may be right.”

The speaker overhead squawks, and Ms. Callaway's voice booms into the gym. “ROMEO BLACKWELL, PLEASE REPORT TO THE PRINCIPAL'S OFFICE.”

“Ooh.” The kids all snicker and point at me.

I just roll my eyes at their silliness and then start to head out of the gym, but not before catching hold of Anjenai's glance. The connection is brief before she cuts her eyes away and gives me her back. The trek from the gym to the principal's office is a pretty long one, and the entire time I'm wondering why I've been called out of class. It could be anything, but I have a sinking feeling it's about the one thing I'm not ready to talk about.

When I enter the front office, Ms. Callaway glances up, pinches her lips together and shakes her head. A variety of kids are seated in a line of chairs against the wall. All
of them, no doubt, are just waiting their turn to see the principal. Only I get the pleasure of being waved right through.

“She's expecting you,” Ms. Callaway says, her voice heavy with disappointment.

Great. They all know.

I shuffle behind the counter and then knock one time on the principal's door before entering the office. “You wanted to see me, Aunt Thelma?”

Glancing up, she gives me a look that reminds me that I'm supposed to refer to her as Principal Vincent when we're on school property.

“Come on in here and shut the door,” she says sternly.

No doubt about it. I'm in trouble. Quickly, I shut the door and plant my butt in the chair across the desk from her. For a few
long
seconds we just look at one another. After a while, I'm wondering if she asked to see me or if it was the other way around and I just forgot or something.

“You did call me out of class, right?”

My aunt pulls in a long breath and exhales even longer. “There's some rather disturbing gossip that's been brought to my attention.”

My heart sinks.

“It's about you and Phoenix.”

Now my gaze drops to the floor. More seconds tick by while the room fills with a deafening silence. She's going to have a long wait if she thinks I'm going to start talking first.

“Is it true?” she finally asks.

“What?”

“Don't play with me. Don't you
dare
play with me. You know exactly what I'm asking you about.”

I squirm in my seat a little bit. “Phoenix is pregnant,” I confirm. It is incredibly hard to spit the words out.

Aunt Thelma sucks in another long breath, but this time she stands up. “Have either one of you told your parents about this?”

“No, ma'am,” I admit.

“Mind if I ask what on earth you're waiting for?” she snaps.

I glance at her again. “Right now I'm just trying to wrap my head around this. I mean, I just found out about this myself a couple of weeks ago.” I watch my aunt as she pulls in several deep breaths.

“I ain't going to lie, Romeo. I'm extremely…extremely disappointed in both of you. I expected more from you two.” She starts pacing. “Now, I'm not naive, and I'm not going to pretend I don't know that you kids are having sex. But I thought that you, especially, knew how to protect yourself.”

My head hangs lower.

“Did you use any protection?”

I swallow hard, still uncomfortable about this subject. “No, ma'am.”

Her pacing behind the desk speeds up. “What were you thinking? How could you be…?” She stops herself and shakes her head. “Is she going to keep the baby?”