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Authors: Cecil R. Cross

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BOOK: Next Semester
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Howard’s supporters gave him a standing ovation, some even blowing party horns in a premature celebration.

“Can you believe this fool?” Fresh asked, nudging my arm with his elbow.

I was so nervous about how Kat would answer, I couldn’t respond. My eyes were glued to the stage.

“I’ve taken fifteen pills today,” Kat said. “I took fifteen yesterday. Fifteen the day before that. And tomorrow, I will take fifteen more. For those of you who haven’t heard by now, I am HIV positive. Now I could tell you about all of the awards I’ve won, all the internships I’ve completed at
Fortune 500
companies or brag about the community service I’ve done, and you may think I’m successful. But when I got my test results back last semester, I felt like a failure. I felt like I’d let down everyone—my parents, my friends and myself. But the day I decided that I wouldn’t let anything—not even HIV—stop me from pursuing my goals, was the day I became successful.”

I fought back tears, but couldn’t help bringing my hands together to join in the applause with the rest of Kat’s supporters. I thought she was finished. But I was wrong.

“You see,” she continued, “success isn’t what you’ve become, but rather what you have gone through to get to where you are. So contrary to Mr. Harrell’s opinion, success isn’t a person. Success is a story. And you can help me make the next chapter of mine a successful one by voting me student body president tomorrow.”

This time, nearly every student in the entire auditorium rose to their feet and put their hands together. Everyone except for Howard’s most loyal followers, who remained seated, stone-faced and with their arms folded. Even Dr. J had to turn away from the crowd momentarily to conceal his emotion. And the look on Howard’s face was one I will never forget. It was one of uncertainty. He’d always looked so confident and sure of himself. But at that very moment, I believe Howard came to grips with the fact that after three years of dominating the student government election, he may have finally met his match. And judging by the look on his face, if he’d had a white towel in his pocket, he may have thrown it in right then and there.

SEVENTEEN

VERDICT

We’d
finally reached the point of no return with Kat’s bid for student body president. It took endorsements from a rapper to erase the damage I’d single-handedly done to Kat’s campaign. And now, she had a legitimate shot to win. But Kat was still stressed out about how the election would turn out. To ease her angst, Destiny thought it would be good to throw a preparty for her in her dorm room a few hours before the results were announced. Nothing too major. Just a little get together for our group and close friends. Everybody showed except for Timothy. Kat said he had some Alpha meeting to attend or something. And to my surprise, neither did Fresh. But Fats came through, probably because he heard there would be food and drinks.

“This is what y’all call food and drinks, cuz?” he asked, standing over the table of party favors.

Highlighted by music, cards, cupcakes, hot dogs, barbeque baked beans, chips and fruit punch, the event turned out to be very PG-13, as I’d expected. I was just waiting for somebody to suggest we play musical chairs. But it was calming, nonetheless. Especially for me. As hard as I tried not to show it, I was at my wit’s end. The fate of my future resting in the hands of voters at a damn student government election. As much as I loved Oakland, I didn’t want to go back. Not to stay, at least. Over the one year I’d been away in college, I’d changed. The problem is, Oakland was exactly the same. The same guys hanging on the same blocks, trying to holler at the same girls, smoking the same weed, going to the same parties that always get shot up the same way. And I was tired of it. I’d been exposed to more, and I liked it. Of course, I could do without the homework. But even the whole routine of going to class without my mom shaking me out of my sleep in the morning and studying for exams prior to the night before the test had grown on me. Other than my mom and sister, there was nothing for me in Oakland. Nothing but trouble. On the other hand, if I got to come back to U of A and pledge Kappa Beta Psi, I knew that I would be exposed to a group of guys my mom would be proud I called friends. Guys who valued things like high GPAs and community service. Guys who pulled all of the tightest females on campus, not only because of their looks, but also because of their intellect. Waiting on the election results to be announced was nerve racking, to say the least. I had everything riding on the results. My life as I knew it was hanging in the balance.

“Don’t worry about it,” Destiny said, running her hand along my back as we sat on the couch. “Kat told me about your situation. Trust me. She’s gonna win and you will be just fine.”

“You can tell I’m stressing?” I asked.

“Yes!” she said. “You dang near haven’t said a word to anybody since we’ve been here. That’s not like you.”

I would’ve responded, but something on the bottom of the TV screen caught my eye and diverted my attention. It appeared on the ticker tape seconds before ESPN’s anchor Stuart Scott made the announcement. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who’d seen it. I wasn’t gonna say anything about it, but Fats apparently couldn’t hold it in.

“Hey, y’all turn the music down real quick,” he said.

I tried to give him the eye, signaling for him not to mention it, but couldn’t get his attention.

“Y’all might wanna see this,” Fats said, grabbing the TV remote and turning up the volume.

“Just moments ago, University of Atlanta’s Heisman quarterback, Deiondre ‘Downtown D’ Harris, who in December was notified by NFL commissioner that he would have to withdraw his name from the NFL draft because he was HIV positive, learned more disturbing news today when a federal judge found him guilty of drug trafficking and sentenced him to sixty months in prison,” Stuart said. “Sadly, Deiondre was projected as a top five pick in the upcoming NFL draft. More on this later on SportsCenter.”

Kat immediately broke down in tears. Her back pressed against the wall, she slid down it slowly with her face in her hands until her butt hit the floor. She sat there with her head buried between her legs boo-hooing like she was at her mother’s funeral.

“Thanks a lot,
Fats,
” Destiny whispered loud enough for everyone to hear.

“What?” he asked in a mumble, shrugging his shoulders, totally oblivious to his folly. “C’mon, now. It’s not like she wasn’t going to find out sooner or later. I didn’t know she was still feeling him like that.”

At first, her reaction struck me as odd, too. Earlier this
semester, Kat had all but sworn to me she was completely over Downtown D. But after I considered the history the two of them shared, not to mention the thirty plus million dollars he was supposedly guaranteed to have in his wallet this time next year, I felt her pain. Her line sisters crouched around her in support. They ushered her into the back room, where they stayed for about fifteen minutes. I don’t know what they said to her, but when Kat returned, she looked as good as new money. After Destiny gathered us together for a quick prayer, it was time to report to the student center to hear the results.

While walking there, I don’t who was more nervous, me or Kat.

“Hey, why wasn’t Fresh at the party?” Destiny asked. “You talk to him today?”

“Nah,” I said. “I don’t know what’s up with him. I don’t even know if he knew about the party. I tried to call him earlier, but his phone was cut off. When is the last time you seen him?”

“I haven’t seen him since the debate,” she said.

“I saw him in the library studying for finals the other day,” Fats said. “He was in bad shape.”

“What you mean?” I asked.

“I guess from charging ten thousand dollars worth of shit on that credit card and not having the money to pay it back,” Fats said. “That’s why his phone is cut off now!”

“I can’t believe that boy blew ten Gs,” I said. “
Ten!
He can’t be mad at nobody but himself. I told him. At the end of the day, it’s just a credit card though, he can pay it back over time.”

“That’s the thing,” Fats said. “The card he got had a twenty-six percent interest rate on it and that fool didn’t read the fine print before he signed up.”

“Hell nah!” I said. “Whew! Now, that’s ugly!”

“But peep,” Fats said. “That ain’t the worst part. You know his mom cosigned for it, so he could use the money to pay his tuition next semester, right?”

“Damn!” I said, throwing my hands up. “I had forgot all about that. She sure did. I can’t believe that fool just blew his tuition money like that. What was he thinking?”

“Apparently, he wasn’t,” Destiny said, as we approached the student center entrance.

The hype surrounding the election was unbelievable. Not only were there hundreds of students converging on the student center doors from every angle, but the marching band was outside playing as we walked up. Photographers from the newspaper and yearbook staff were on hand to capture it all. Win, lose or draw, it was a spectacle to behold. A scene I could never forget.

“Can you believe this, cuz?” Fats asked. “I’ve been here for seven years and I ain’t never seen people on the yard get so into a student government election.”

“I didn’t know you were getting your masters this year,” Destiny said.

“I’m not,” Fats confirmed. “I’m on the seven-year plan.”

“I didn’t know there was one,” Destiny said, laughing.

“The funny thing is, neither did I,” Fats said with a chuckle. “Time flies when you’re having fun. I’m graduating next week, though. Believe that!”

“Finally,” I said.

“Hey, better late than never, homie,” he said.

The moment Kat stepped foot in the student center, the applause kicked up and people cheered. Even though I thought it was kind of lame, especially with us standing right in the front, I joined right in. There was entirely too much at stake for me not to. It wasn’t long before Howard made his grand entrance, his cohorts leading the way in their “Vote Howard” T-shirts. I couldn’t help but notice that the ovation
for Howard was slightly more boisterous and rowdy than Kat’s. He stood on the opposite side of the platform near Lawry and the MIAPAs, who held up signs in support. I felt my phone go off in my pocket. Of course, it was my mom sending me a text message. It read
Did we win?

I was too nervous to even return her text. I decided to wait until the results were in to even hit her back. It was so packed, I hadn’t even noticed Timothy had snaked his way through the crowd. He was standing a few feet behind us with the rest of the Alphas. We made eye contact but exchanged no pleasantries. Considering everything, I couldn’t even be mad at Timothy for what he’d done. Hell, if it wasn’t for him helping me with my homework for biology, my grades would have never been high enough for me to afford to get a zero and still make a passing grade in the first place. And the more I thought about it, the more I came to the conclusion that I didn’t have no business relying on his scantron to get me through the biology final, either. As much as I hated to admit it, I was in the wrong. Deep down inside, I knew Timothy was a good guy. I hoped we’d have a chance to talk before he left for the summer.

“Before I announce the winner of this year’s student body president election, I would like to say that I have been very impressed by the way in which both the candidates and the voters have taken ownership of this election,” Dr. J said. “Judging by today’s turnout, this is definitely the most highly anticipated student government election I have ever been involved in.”

The chants started low and increased in pitch every go round, drowning Dr. J’s intro completely out. The louder it got, the more my stomach churned.

“Howard! Howard! Howard!” folks chanted.

Not to be shown up, Kat’s supporters responded.

“Kat! Kat! Kat!” they shouted, fists pumping.

“And now, without any further ado…” Dr. J said as I closed my eyes and clasped my hands.

“Please, God,” I pleaded under my breath. “Let her win.”

“It is my pleasure to introduce the winner, and new student body president,” he said, hoisting the envelope high.

I pooted.

“Katrina Turner!”

I’ve had my fare share of glorious moments in my life. Winning the little league football championship, hearing my name called at my high school graduation and getting accepted to college among the most memorable. But Dr. J announcing Kat as the new student body president topped them all. Being ridiculed for the entire semester by everyone who assumed I had the package, bombing on the speech in the prelims, being physically degraded and mentally abused during the prepledging process, having my reputation smeared throughout the campaign and being told by nearly everyone that we didn’t stand a chance challenging the omnipotent Howard Harrell all made the victory that much sweeter. As Kat stood on stage, tears streaming from her eyes, grinning from ear to ear, Dub-B and Jasmine shared a kiss, Timothy slapped fives with his frat brothers and Destiny jumped up and down clapping with her sorors. I could do nothing more than throw my head back and raise my hands high above my shoulders in jubilee. Then I eased my phone out of my pocket, scrolled to the message my mom had sent me, hit Eeply and typed
Yes!

EIGHTEEN

EXIT WOUNDS

It
was hard to enjoy Kat’s victory. I’d waited all semester for this moment to bask in the joy of knowing I’d passed my other classes, I’d been officially absolved from academic probation, my grades were good enough to pledge Kappa Beta Psi and, most importantly, my GPA was high enough for me to return to the University of Atlanta next year. But there would be no celebration for me. For one, my phone call with Leslie really put a damper on things. I’m still not sure what made her finally call me back. I assumed it was because the school year was over and she knew I’d be going back to Cali for the summer. But after spending five minutes on the phone with her, it was clear she didn’t want to move forward with our relationship.

“Well, I’m glad to hear you finished with a 3.0,” she said.
“That’s a tremendous accomplishment. I know your mom is proud of you.”

“Yeah,” I said, disappointed that the conversation had taken such a generic turn.

“Look, J.D.,” she said, “I’ve heard everything you said about Lawry hating on you and all. And truthfully, I still don’t know who to believe. All I know is that you are leaving for Cali in a few minutes, and I’ll be out here for the summer. And I’m not too good with long-distance relationships, so I say the two of us just go our separate ways for now. Then when you come back in the fall, if it’s meant for us to be together, I’m sure we’ll hook up again.”

What could I say to that? It seemed she already had her mind made up. And truthfully, as much as I liked Leslie, the fact that she’d left me stranded with no tutor during finals really didn’t sit well with me. Plus, I figured if I was going to actually be on line pledging Kappa Beta Psi next semester, seeing her didn’t really bode well for my well-being. I was probably better off leaving her alone. At least until after I officially became a Kappa. Then, it’d be free game.

“Yeah,” I said, trying my best not to sound disgruntled. “You’re probably right. That’s probably the best play to run. I guess I’ll see you when I make it back.”

“Sounds good,” she said.

At least Leslie and I didn’t end our relationship on bad terms,
I thought as I stuffed the last of my clothes into my suitcase. It certainly felt better to have some closure than none at all. I was glad she’d called.

I knew my Uncle Leroy would be pulling up any minute to take me to the airport, so I checked around my room to make sure I wasn’t leaving anything behind. That’s when I heard my door open. I thought it was Timothy coming in to take his things out, but it was Fresh. I could tell by his facial expression that he was in a rather somber mood. But
after the conversation I’d just had, I wasn’t really in the spirit to cheer anyone else up. Fresh didn’t say a word. He just came in and sat on the edge of my bed with his head down, holding a piece of paper in his hand. At first, I thought he was upset about a girl or something. But by his body language alone, it didn’t take long for me to tell he had bigger problems.

“What’s wrong, blood?” I asked.

“Man, joe,” he said, exhaling deeply as he crashed backward onto my bed. “I really messed up this time, G.”

“What you mean?” I asked.

“I don’t even wanna go home, folk,” Fresh said. “You think your uncle will let me stay at his crib for the summer?”

“I highly doubt that,” I said as I pressed my knee down on my suitcase, trying to compress the clothes I’d stuffed inside, so I could zip it up. “Come on, now. Whatever it is, it can’t be
that
serious.”

“How you figure?” Fresh asked. “How am I s’posed to explain what I did? How am I s’posed to tell my parents I blew ten
thousand
dollars?”

“You’re right,” I said. “It is that bad.”

I wanted to say “I told you so,” but I figured now was no time to be condescending. Not with of one my best friends sitting on my bed, breaking down after coming to the realization his college days were over. I could tell by Fresh’s voice he was on the verge of crying.

“And just think,” he said, “this whole semester we’ve been worried about whether or not
you
would be coming back. Now I’m the one who’s gonna have to sit next year out.”

“Can’t you return some of the stuff you bought back and get reimbursed?”

“I mean, I could try,” he said. “But I doubt I’m gonna
be able to get eighty-six hundred dollars worth of it back. I’ll need at least that much to pay tuition.”

“Have you thought about hitting up Tiffany or one of your other breezies to see if they’ll loan you some dough?” I asked.

“Man, them girls are broke, G,” Fresh said. “They’re in college like us. Shit, that’s probably what was keeping them around. The fact that I was spending my bread. I ain’t heard from Tiffany since I went off on her after that incident at Lenox. I heard she’s dating some dude at Lighthouse now.”

“Damn,” I said. “Well, you could get a summer job, apply for some scholarships, ask some family members if they…”

“J.D., I’m not coming back, man,” Fresh said, sniffling, his head bowed toward the floor. “What part-time job you know gonna pay me that kinda money, man? I mean, I could apply for some scholarships or whatever, but you know my grades ain’t even up to par like that. And my family…they ain’t got no bread like that. I’m like you—the first one in my family to go off to college. And I blew it! Bottom line, I doofed myself, G. Straight up. I don’t even know what I was thinking. I spent all that money and I ain’t got nothin’ to show for it. I’m bogus as hell for that. My momma gon’ whoop my ass when she finds out.”

You had to empathize with the guy. He was pouring his heart out right there in my bedroom and there wasn’t much I could say to rectify the situation. Fresh had been my best friend on campus since I arrived at U of A last semester. We studied together, partied together, even prepledged together. The thought of him not coming back had never crossed my mind. No matter how much he loved the Bulls, White Sox and the Bears and bragged about how much fun he had growing up in Chicago, I knew he didn’t want to go back home to stay. After going to college in Atlanta for a year,
nobody did. I felt his pain. The same thing that awaited me back home awaited him—violence. I knew as well as he did, college was the way out. But Fresh’s ticket home was one-way. Even though he’d dug his own ditch, seeing my friend break down like that made me tear up. I searched for the right words to say, but came up with nothing. That’s when Timothy came in. More silence followed. It was an awkward moment, seeing him gather his luggage that was already packed up and head toward the door. He was apparently content leaving without saying a thing to me, but I had to say something.

“Look, we need to talk, Timothy,” I said just before he got to the door.

“I’m listening,” he said.

“First of all, us not talking to each other is really childish,” I said. “We’ve been friends and roommates since we got here.”

“We’ve been roommates,” he said. “A friend would tell you if he knows your girl is cheating on you.”

“Look, I apologize for not telling you sooner, blood,” I said. “That was my bad. You were just so sprung off the girl, I could never find the right time to tell you. Every time I was about to, you’d say something about how much you loved her or how good she looked or how smart she was.”

“Well, I accept your apology,” he said, extending his hand to shake mine.

“Don’t you want to apologize for something too, brotha?” I asked while shaking his hand.

“Apologize for what?” he asked.

“For letting me copy off of your biology final,” I said.

Before I could even finish the sentence, I felt funny even saying it. Fresh snickered.

“How do you sound?” Timothy asked. “
I’m
supposed to apologize for
you
copying off of
my
test? I don’t think so, J.D. That doesn’t even make sense.”

“You didn’t have to set me up like that, though,” I said. “That was hella wrong, blood. You could’ve told me you were filling in all the wrong answers.”

“And you could’ve told me Amy was creeping behind my back,” he said, laughing. “I got played and so did you. So I guess we’re even.”

I didn’t even have a good comeback for that one. I decided to just bury the hatchet on that note.

“I guess so,” I said, shaking up with him one more time and giving him a half hug.

“Well, I’m out,” Timothy said. “You guys be safe this summer. Keep God first. Stay out of trouble. And I’ll see y’all next semester.”

When Timothy extended his hand toward Fresh, he bowed his head in shame and broke down crying like a baby.

“Hey, what’s wrong with Fresh?” Timothy asked.

“He’s just upset about some things,” I said, checking under my bed to make sure I wasn’t leaving anything behind.

“I’m not coming back next year,” Fresh said in between sobs.

“You can’t say that for sure, blood,” I said, trying to stay positive.

“Yes, I can,” Fresh said.

“Why’s that?” Timothy asked.

“I don’t got the money,” Fresh said.

“If you really want to come back, you can get the money,” Timothy said.

“How the hell am I supposed to come up with eight thousand dollars over the summer with no job? That’s impossible.”

“False,” Timothy said, sitting down beside Fresh. “All things are possible to those who believe.
All
things. If it’s in God’s plan for you to be in school here, you’ll be back.”

“Yeah, but how…”

“How you’re going to come up with the cash is irrelevant at this point,” Timothy said, cutting him off. “First, you have to
believe
that God can provide it for you. He would never withhold a good thing from you.”

“That’s real,” Fresh said. “I might need you to put in a prayer for your boy.”

“I can pray for you,” Timothy said. “But I can’t believe for you. Do I think you can pull together enough money to pay tuition on your own this summer? Probably not. But as long as you believe God can do it for you, anything is possible.
Any
thing. Just remember that.”

I was a firm believer that Timothy was wasting his money in college. With his mastery of the Bible and ability to apply its principles to everyday life, I was certain he was destined to be a great preacher. At times, I was in awe just listening to him. You had to respect it.

“How are your grades anyway?” Timothy asked.

“l got like a three-point-four,” Fresh said.

“Gee whiz!” Timothy said. “With those kind of grades, you’ll be eligible for plenty of scholarships. My mom is the director of financial aid for minority students at UGA. That’s all she does all day is help students get scholarships. I’ll talk to her for you and ask her to e-mail some of them to you. With grades like yours, she can get you ten thousand dollars worth in no time!”

“Really?” Fresh asked, popping up with a smile on his face and hope in his eyes. “Don’t bullshit me, G. You serious?”

“If you don’t believe me, you can talk to her yourself,” Timothy said. “Both of my parents are outside waiting on me right now. I don’t think I have your e-mail address anyway. Come on.”

“Thank you, Jesus!” Fresh shouted. “Let’s go!”

“See you next semester, J.D.,” Timothy said. “Be safe out there this summer.”

A few minutes later, I grabbed my things and met my uncle outside in the parking lot. Staring at Marshall Hall through the rearview mirror as we pulled off, I got a little emotional as I thought about all of the good times and bad I’d had my freshman year. I couldn’t help but shake my head and laugh when I thought about us getting hammered at the foam party and how scared I was walking into the basement at the Kappa house the first night we started prepledging. When we passed by the baseball diamond, memories of us running full speed and diving face-first into the bases in the rain flooded my mind. The look on Fresh’s face when he turned around to give me that damn garlic was priceless. We were following behind a Neon with a rainbow-colored MIAPA bumper sticker. Instantly, I thought about how Lawry—the last guy on campus I would have ever suspected gay—had done a complete 180 since I’d met him, redefining the term “undercover brotha” right in front of my eyes and sacrificing our friendship in the process. As we drove by the basketball court, I thought about Dub-B. I wondered what would’ve happened if he wouldn’t have ended up in our group, and we wouldn’t have had his father’s help planning Kat’s campaign. Would she have still won or would I be going back to Oakland for good because I didn’t make good enough grades to get off of academic probation?

When we pulled up at the light near the student center, I saw two students waiting to use the ATM. I wondered if they were inadvertently plunging themselves into debt, swiping with reckless abandon as Fresh had. Driving by the strip, I noticed all of Howard’s posters had been torn down. In fact, only one remained. One that read Vote for Kat. I thought it symbolic. After all of the smoke around her cleared, Downtown D was incarcerated, Howard Harrell was overthrown and Kat was the last one standing. I
thought, if Kat—a safe-sex advocate turned HIV patient—could be elected student body president, maybe all that jazz Timothy was talking about anything being possible through God was really true. After all, in a few months I’d be coming back to campus for my sophomore year. And I, of all people, would be pledging a fraternity. This time last year, I didn’t even think I’d be getting into college at all. One thing’s for sure. Although it still seemed far off, after completing my first year of college, keeping the promise I’d made to my friend T-Spoon before he was murdered now seemed attainable. I was that much closer to finishing what I’d started. One step closer to graduating from college.

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