Sellout (10 page)

“You want me to call Tilly for you?” Grade asked.

Although I wanted Tilly, I didn’t want to disturb her or make her worry. I sure didn’t want Quiana and Rochelle to think they’d gotten the best of me.

“No, thanks, Gracie, I’ll be okay,” I said. I sounded like I had the worst sinus infection of my life. “I’m going back to the gym.”

Gracie gave me an unsure look, like she didn’t want to send me back to the wolves, but I didn’t give her much choice. I hugged her quickly and walked out of her office and back toward the gym.

When I got there, the girls got a good laugh at my bandaged nose. The game was still going. Rochelle’s team had the lead. Coach came over to see how I was doing.

“I’m ready to play, Coach. You can put me in,” I told her. I was ready for Rochelle this time. I wouldn’t take my eyes off of her. This was my only chance to get back at her. Coach stopped me before I made it onto the court.

“I don’t think so, NaTasha,” she said. “Why don’t you just sit back and relax for the rest of the game. I don’t want any more accidents for today.”

The look on Rochelle’s face said it all. They had won. It didn’t matter what the score was. I had been defeated.

“Yeah, Sellout, why don’t you just sit back and relax,” Quiana said. “By the way, I like your bandage. It matches.”

“What’s your problem anyway?” I asked her.

Quiana dropped the ball and walked straight toward me. My insides started to rumble. Coach blew her whistle, but no one listened.

“What did you say, Sellout?” she asked.

She stepped toe-to-toe with me. My heart dropped. If I played my cards right, she wouldn’t hit me in the nose.

“Why do you call me that?” I asked, trying to steady my voice. Tiny beads of sweat started to form on my top lip and around my forehead. I didn’t dare move to wipe.

“Because you are a sellout, stupid,” she said angrily. “You have no idea who you are. You think you’re a white girl and you think you’re better than the rest of us.”

She was glaring at me like I had tried to hurt her or something.

“No, I am not and no, I do not,” I shot back. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“Relax, girls,” Coach yelled. “Let’s get back to the match.”

Even though I wanted to confront Quiana, I could feel the tears welling up. I looked up at the rectangular fluorescent lights hanging from the ceiling so the tears would stay in place. When I looked back at Quiana, I could tell she wasn’t going to let this go. Her teeth were clenched, along with her fists, and her temples pulsed. She looked like a bull ready to charge.

“You talk like a white girl, you dress like a white girl, and you even wear your hair like a white girl,” she pointed out. “And you mean to tell me you don’t think you’re a white girl? You’re more stupid than I thought.”

Tilly popped into my head again.

“I’m not stupid, Quiana,” I said.

Coach blew the whistle loudly. Quiana and I both ignored the loud warning.

“Yeah, you are, Sellout,” she said.

“No, I’m not,” I told her, my voice rising to match her own.

“Yeah, you definitely are,” she said, laughing now. I crossed my arms over my chest and ignored the steady stream of loud whistles coming from Coach. She wedged herself in between Quiana and me. Every eye was on us to see how we were going to settle our score.

“Well, I can’t imagine what you’re fighting about with a girl who hasn’t been here long enough to pick a fight with anyone, Quiana,” Coach said. “You must want to sit out the rest of the game.”

“Coach, she’s a rat, and you know how I feel about that,” Quiana said confidently. “You mess with me or my girls and I’m gonna give you what you ask for.”

She said it to Coach, but it was really meant for me. I had no idea what Quiana was talking about. Me? Messing with
her
friends? As if I would dare mess with any of them.

“But I didn’t do anything, Quiana,” I said.

“My girl Monique says otherwise,” she shouted back, “and she’s not here right now because of you.”

Rochelle was standing behind Quiana, glaring at me. What had Monique told them? I wasn’t a rat. I hadn’t said anything about Monique to anyone. My heartbeat jumped
into my stomach. I had to bend over a little in order to steady my breathing.

“Okay, I’ve heard enough,” Coach said, pointing her finger at Quiana. “You’re out. Sit down and watch the game, because that’s all you’re going to be doing for a while. NaTasha, you feel well enough to play again? It looks like it is more dangerous right now for you off the court than on.”

I nodded and followed my team back into the game.

COACH WANTED TO see me in Red’s office after the match was over. I dressed in record time to beat the locker room traffic—wild girls who liked to bully me in secluded places.

“NaTasha, come on in,” Red called to me. Coach was sitting in one of the comfy chairs near the door.

“Hey, Coach. Hey, Red,” I said, leaving the door open behind me. “What’s up?”

“I just wanted to check in with you to see how your first couple of days have gone here,” Red said, moving her computer keyboard off of her lap and back onto her desk.

They leaned forward and looked intently at me, like they really cared about what I had to say. I wasn’t so sure. Coach had now witnessed my torture firsthand. Maybe this was her way of reaching out to me. But I wasn’t ready for her help just yet.

“Oh, thanks, but everything is fine,” I told them.

“Are you sure there isn’t anything you want to share with us?” Red asked. She opened a manila folder, similar to the
one Monique was stealing earlier. “It can stay between us if that makes you feel more comfortable.”

Red wanted me to rat on Monique. That would just give Quiana and her gang real reason to rip me to shreds. I pled the fifth.

“Nope, everything is fine,” I told Red, even as she eyed all of the bumps and bruises that had appeared on me in the past few days. “The match got a little rough today, that’s all.”

Coach looked at me then and cleared her throat. She and I hadn’t had a whole lot of time together, but she understood my look of desperation, the one pleading with her to keep quiet.

“The match was a rough one for her, Red,” Coach answered after a long pause. “But NaTasha is a great player. You should come and watch the girls play sometime soon.”

Red seemed unsure that everything really was okay, but promised she’d come by to see for herself when she got the chance.

“Okay, then, NaTasha, are you still on board to help with the reception ceremony?” she asked, changing the subject.

She handed me a list of guidelines and procedures to read over when I got home. I took the paper from her and perused it while she kept talking.

“So, it has come to my attention someone was in my office yesterday morning,” Red said. “A few girls walking by saw the light on.”

I sat quietly and let her keep talking.

“So, that list is not final until I find out what happened,” Red continued. “We might have one less girl for the ceremony, but I’ll let you know when I know.”

“Okay, sounds good,” I said.

My heart jumped into my throat and started doing jumping jacks. I reviewed the list in my hands. There was a question mark near Monique’s name.

“Too bad and a lot of work down the drain,” Red added. “I guess she wasn’t as ready to move on as I thought. I’ve asked her to come in and speak with us regarding what happened yesterday morning.”

There was a knock on the door and, almost as if on cue, Monique stepped through the doorway. That was my sign to exit.

“Okay, well, I’ll look through this and get back to you tomorrow,” I said, not waiting for a dismissal. Coach West was already standing, though, blocking my escape. She closed the door to my freedom and all I could do was stare.

“Actually, NaTasha, one of the girls said they saw you exiting the office yesterday morning as well, so I’d like you to stay,” Red said.

Monique looked right at me, probably praying I wouldn’t say anything. No way was I going down for something she did on her own. Red motioned for me to sit next to Coach and I did.

“Red, I wasn’t even in here yesterday morning,” Monique said smugly, before she was asked anything. I sat and tried to pretend I wasn’t present for this interrogation. I picked at my nail polish.

“No one said you were, Monique,” Red said. “So, you didn’t stop in at all?”

“Nope,” Monique lied, glancing at me. I stared at her but kept my mouth shut.

“NaTasha?” Red asked. I reluctantly turned to look at her.
“You
weren’t in here, were you?”

All eyes turned to me. I couldn’t believe Red was even asking me. Monique folded her arms across her chest and smiled.

“I came to talk to you,” I said quietly. “You weren’t here, but I got your note to come in. I assumed you wanted to see me about the recognition ceremony.”

“Of course, that’s right, NaTasha,” Red said, shaking her head. “I forgot I asked you to stop by. I apologize.”

Monique pretended to be hurt. “Where’s my apology? I wasn’t even involved.”

“No one was accusing you, Monique,” Red said. “I was just asking a question.”

Her voice was calm and steady. If someone broke into my space, I would have been livid. I thought about the story Tilly told me about her childhood. I wondered if she had ever been falsely accused.

“NaTasha, I do have one more question,” Red said. “Was there anyone else here with you yesterday morning?”

The tension in the room was heavy. I could tell this wasn’t the first meeting for Monique about stealing. Coach sat with both arms folded and Red flipped through her pages full of meeting notes. Monique sat quietly but firmly, ready to pounce at any sign of opposition. She glared at me.

“NaTasha?” Red asked.

I could easily get back at her for yelling at me, for scratching my face, and for breaking Tilly’s bracelet. She had to pay for what she’d done to me. It was my turn to look smug. I folded my arms and smiled at her. For the first time she looked nervous. I didn’t take my eyes off of Monique.

“No, no one was here with me.”

They all looked shocked, especially Monique. Her face softened a little.

“Are you sure about that, NaTasha?” Coach asked.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” I told them.

“Red, can I go now?” Monique asked.

“Monique, I just want to remind you about my rules,” Red said. “You have been here a long time and I would hate to have to see you extend that unnecessarily.”

I expected Monique to come back with some curt, smartalecky remark. I chipped away the last piece of polish from my thumbnail and snuck a peek at her. But this definitely wasn’t the same girl who had tried to pound my face in earlier.

“Okay, girls, you can go, unless you have something else to add,” Red said.

I expected Monique to smile or to acknowledge I’d just helped her out of trouble. But, I got nothing. She wouldn’t even look at me. This must have been what Rex meant by the good guys making a comeback.

“Actually, Red, I’m sorry I didn’t mention this earlier,” I started. Monique froze and looked me squarely in the eye then. “I am going to need a little help organizing the ceremony,
especially since I’m new here, and have never actually been to one.”

I stared at Monique as I spoke. She bent down and pretended to tie a shoelace.

“Not a bad idea,” Red said. “Monique, since you’re here, please assist NaTasha with whatever she needs. We’ll meet again soon to touch base.”

Monique stared at me with her mouth wide open. I thought she would pass out then or break into violent rage, slamming things around the office. Planning anything with me was the last thing she wanted. But, she had no choice.

“Do I have to?” Monique asked. I thought I spotted a smile on Coach’s face.

“We could go back to our previous conversation if you prefer,” Red said. Monique stayed quiet and shook her head no. She gathered her things quietly. “Good, then. I think you two will make a great team. You can include others if you need to. Let me know as soon as you can what supplies you will need.”

I followed Monique out of the office. She went one way and I went the other. At that moment I wondered if I’d done the right thing.

SHAUNDA MUST HAVE seen me heading for the ladies’ room, because she was hot on my heels just as I shut myself into a stall. I could hear her shuffling around in her bag, pretending she really needed to be in there, but I ignored her.

When I came back out she looked at me sheepishly. “I wanted to say sorry to you for this morning on the court,” she said. I stared at her blankly, forcing her to recall her betrayal. She lowered her head a little and began. “I should have defended you. I’m sorry, NaTasha.”

I had to face those girls on my own. Some friend she was. My real friends would never have treated me like that. I thought of Heather. I would have had to pull her off Quiana. Well, maybe not, but she wouldn’t have let me fight alone. Shaunda had left me out in a pack of wolves to survive on my own.

I didn’t say anything. While I waited, I poured out the contents of my purse and decided to touch up my hair. I wet a paper towel and wiped my face clean, careful not to ruin the bandage. My face felt rough and it throbbed from the scratches
I had endured earlier. I pulled out my comb and raked it through my hair a few times.

“It’s just that I have been trying to steer clear of those girls for so long now,” Shaunda continued. “They used to torture me so badly. I’m finally ready to move on with my life and I just want to leave here peacefully without them bothering me anymore.”

I glanced at her in the mirror next to me. I rolled gloss on my lips and handed it to her when I saw her admiring it.

“It’s MAC’s new stuff, sparkles a little, too,” I told her, completely ignoring her apology.

“Thanks,” she said, almost in a whisper.

“No problem,” I said, taking back my gloss. She put her pointer finger between her lips and dabbed lightly.

“So, what is your history with those girls?” I asked. Somehow I knew the story wasn’t going to be pleasant. Shaunda took a deep breath and turned to look at me. I hadn’t forgiven her yet. She’d left me hanging like a dirty washcloth on the court. I pulled the comb through my hair several times again slowly. She turned back away from me to dab her eyes dry. I watched her open her own purse and take out a jar of skin bleach and use the paper towel to add a new coat to her cheeks, forehead, nose, and chin.

“What are you doing?” I asked her. “Why are you using that? How long have you been doing that to your skin? That stuff is really not good for you.”

I tried to take the bleach away, but she held it out of my reach.

“I know what it does for me, NaTasha,” she said. “It makes me forget who I am, and reminds me who I want to be. I have never fit in my whole life. Not with white girls, not with black girls, not with Hispanic girls, not with Asian girls, no one.”

I looked at her clear, light skin with model bone structure and wondered if she had one of those body identity crisis disorders they talked about on
Oprah.

“I know it sounds crazy,” she said. “All my counselors and family members have told me so. But, I still hate what I see in the mirror.”

She started to cry. I put my arm around her shoulders but as much as I wanted to encourage her, I just couldn’t. I knew exactly what she was talking about. Her pain was the same as mine.

“Did Quiana tease you about your skin color?” I asked, hoping to calm her down.

Shaunda turned her whole body toward the sink bowl and dry heaved a few times.

“I’m sorry, Shaunda, I didn’t mean to upset you,” I told her.

“Look at this,” she said, holding her arms out in front of me.

She rolled her sleeves up. Her skin was layered and discolored. There were small burns on the back of her arms.

“Quiana teased me about these marks,” she started. “When I figured out I couldn’t fit in, I started bleaching.”

Tilly was right. Everyone had a story.

“I didn’t like my skin,” Shaunda continued, “so I tried to change it. I thought I could keep that to myself until Quiana found out. She thought it was disrespectful to her personally because of her own dark skin. She found any opportunity to hurt me and then she did.”

I handed her a paper towel to wipe her tears.

“She used to call me ‘Scar’ whenever I walked into a room to make the other girls laugh at me,” she continued, “but then she got worse. She would yell things out while Red was talking or in the middle of our group. Only a few people knew she was referring to me, but I started having nightmares thinking about how she would embarrass me next. I had to see a psychiatrist. I couldn’t sleep, let alone explain what was happening to me.”

I rubbed her back in small circles. I wasn’t angry anymore. Shaunda had been through worse with Quiana and her gang.

“My parents tried to help.” She kept talking. “But they didn’t understand. My mom is white and my dad is black. Quiana is the reason I’m still here. Red doesn’t think I’m stable enough to leave. All I really need is to get away from this place and I’d be fine. I’ve felt like a prisoner here with that girl.”

“I wonder what makes Quiana that way,” I asked. Shaunda snapped her head toward me in shock.

“You haven’t heard?” she asked me. “I thought Tilly would have warned you.”

I thought Tilly told me everything.

“She was molested by her uncle for years,” she said in a whisper. “Her mother is still on drugs. Amber’s Place is Quiana’s only
real
home. Red is the one who has taken care of her, but Quiana is just mad at the world. She hates anyone who has had a more privileged life, which is about everyone and anyone.”

“So, what changed?” I asked. “Why are you ready to leave now? What made you strong enough to get past all of her torture?”

“One day I decided the teasing wouldn’t get any better unless I accepted who I was and was happy about it,” she said. “It’s a process. I’m not all the way there, but I’m trying. I’m not hurting myself anymore and that’s what I’m working on.”

Shaunda looked at me, and I looked down at the small bleach bottle in her purse.

“Like I said, it’s a process,” she said, “and when a new girl shows up to take the attention away from me, Quiana leaves me alone for a while.”

I had rescued Shaunda.

“Just be careful of those girls, NaTasha,” Shaunda said. “I know you aren’t here for long, but don’t let them get into your head and affect you the way I’ve let them do to me.”

“Oh, I’m not worried about them,” I told her confidently. I wanted to tell her all about the meeting we’d just had with Red and Coach, but there wasn’t time. Tilly had to be waiting for me by now. “They can’t possibly hurt me anymore.”

“Just be careful, okay?” she asked.

“Sure, but I have a feeling things will be different now,” I told her on my way out of the restroom. I had to go and face Tilly, with my bandaged nose, scratches, and all. It was time to tell her the truth about what I’d let these girls do to me.