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Authors: Ebony Joy Wilkins

BOOK: Sellout
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“That’s what we’re here to figure out, smart one,” Quiana answered sarcastically. Somehow when she said something mean to Monique, I was the only one to notice. “How about ‘Congratulations on serving your time,’ or ‘Great job on screwing up your life?’”

Red would really have a fit. I wanted something simple and to the point. Monique wanted something lengthy and difficult to sign on multiple copies. Quiana wanted to make jokes.

We put down the notebooks and just listened to the music for a few minutes. I put my head back and closed my eyes and pictured myself dancing around in circles.

One of the boys from the living room couch knocked on the door.

“What?” Quiana screamed over the music. The volume wasn’t up that high. I think she just wanted to scream.

“We got anything to eat?” he yelled through the door.

“Did you go buy anything to eat?” Quiana asked in true Quiana fashion. I thought about Tilly in her apron in front of the stove. She would be cooking up some fancy meal if she wasn’t still at the hospital. I wondered how Maria was doing. Tilly had promised to call with any news, but we hadn’t heard from her yet.

“Nah,” he yelled back.

“Then, nah, we ain’t got nothing to eat,” she said. She threw a pillow at the closed door and it landed on the floor
next to me. I picked it up and threw it back. She gave me an evil look and then leaned back against her headboard the way she was before the interruption.

A slow song came on and Monique lost her mind. The tears started falling almost before the melody kicked in. Quiana and I both watched her. I didn’t know what to say. I’m sure Quiana wanted to say something, but she didn’t. On the second verse of the song, Monique grabbed some tissues and began to wipe the tears away.

“I’m done crying over him,” she said, making sure every drop was gone. She gathered up her things and started heading for the door.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Quiana asked her. I looked back and forth between the two, wondering what was going on.

“I was supposed to be home by now,” Monique answered. “If he’s there, I’ll just have to deal with it. If not, I’m going to sleep and not answer my phone.”

I didn’t think that was a very good idea, but I didn’t have any other solution for her. Tilly’s place was crowded enough with her one bedroom full of antiques and my stuff scattered around her living area. I cleared my throat to get Quiana’s attention so she would say something to stop her.

“NaTasha will go with you just in case,” she said flatly.

My mouth fell open. Quiana had a wicked grin on her face, like she’d just gotten caught stealing a candy bar redhanded.

“No. It’s okay, I’m cool by myself,” Monique said, looking at me.

“I would go with you, it’s just that…” I started. It was date night. I didn’t want to tell her I had plans with someone else. That sounded selfish.

“It’s just that what?” Quiana said, with the smirk still on her face.

Monique was paused at the door with her hand on the doorknob. They were both waiting for my answer.

“I have a date,” I said, looking at Monique. “If you want, I can walk with you on my way.”

She shook her head no, but she didn’t open the door.

“You have a date with your head looking like that?” Quiana asked.

“It’s fine,” I said, trying to stay focused on planning.

“It’s not fine. It looks a mess,” she said, looking at the time clock next to her bed. “What time is the date?”

“I’m supposed to meet him at seven thirty,” I told them. Two and a half hours to walk with Monique and then shower and get ready.

“Then I guess we have to work fast,” she said, motioning for me to move closer to her. She pointed to something on top of her dresser of drawers. “Monique, hand me that brush and comb and sit down.”

Monique did as she was told and so did I.

Quiana dug into my hair like it was a plate of spaghetti. She moved my head roughly and quickly, but not so it hurt me. I could feel the comb moving through each section of hair and her fingers pulling at each braid all over my scalp. While she braided they reminisced about earlier days at Amber’s Place. I sat quietly and listened to their stories.

Hearing them made me think of Heather. I wondered if we would ever have anything to laugh about when I returned home. After an hour, Quiana turned me toward a mirror.

“It’s done, Sellout,” Quiana said. I turned and posed for a minute. Quiana had done an amazing job. There was a maze of braids on my head and they looked sharp. I was more excited about my hair than the date. “The certificates should say ‘Congratulations, now is the right time to change your life.’ Now, you two get out of my house. I’m sick of looking at you both.”

I was still smiling from ear to ear. We got the work done. Monique was happy to be walking with me. Quiana had just done something nice for me. I wanted to ask when she would start calling me by my real name, but I quit while I was ahead. Baby steps.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

MY CELL RANG just as Monique and I made it to the subway station near Quiana’s house. I tucked my subway card back inside my purse and fished around frantically on the bottom for my phone. I didn’t want to miss a call from Tilly. It had been hours already since we’d heard from her. I caught her right before the voice mail kicked in.

“Tilly?” I yelled into the receiver. Monique frowned and pretended to plug her ears. I stepped away from her so I could hear Tilly better. “So, how’s Maria feeling? How’s the baby?”

“She’s okay and the baby is fine,” Tilly said. She sounded relieved and happy. I gave Monique thumbs-up and she nodded that she understood. Her face was still preoccupied and tense, though, and I could tell she was dreading going home. “The doctors are keeping her so she can rest. They’re both doing fine.”

“That’s great, Tilly,” I told her. “When are you gonna be home?”

Even though we would miss each other, I would have liked to see her before my date. She would know the right things to
say and what not to say. Monique motioned to the watch on her arm and headed for the stairs.

“I’ll be home in a bit, baby,” Tilly said. “I want to make sure someone in Maria’s family is gonna stay with her and then I’ll be on my way.”

“Okay, Tilly,” I agreed, a little too sadly. I knew she could hear in my voice that I was disappointed. For the first time in my life, when I needed my grandmother, she wasn’t there. I didn’t like how that felt at all. “See you later.”

“NaTasha?”

“Yeah, Tilly?” I asked reluctantly. I pulled my subway card out and joined Monique at the top of the stairs. A few passersby gave us dirty looks for blocking the entrance and pushed past us.

“I’m sorry I’m going to miss you before you leave for your date, baby,” she said. I could tell she was sad, too. I felt bad for making that happen.

“It’s really okay, Tilly. It’s just a silly date,” I said, trying to make us both feel better.

“It is not silly, and I wish I was there,” she said.

“I know, Tilly, I know.”

“Have a good time,” she said, “and remember everything I’ve taught you.”

I knew this was the part where she would tell me not to try to act like someone I wasn’t and that it would be up to me to keep my morals and pride in place even when there were no adults around to watch me.

“I love you, Tilly,” I told her, and flicked my phone closed.
Monique was already at the bottom of the stairs waiting for me in front of the single turnstile.

“Maria’s fine,” I told her. Monique smiled faintly and swiped her subway card. I followed her to the downtown platform and looked at her again. “Did you hear me? Maria’s going to be okay.”

The last part got lost in the noise when a train barreled past us at top speed, sounding like a category five tornado. We waited until it slowed down so we could hear each other again.

“That’s really great. I’m happy to hear it,” she said, stepping into an almost packed car. I followed her in and held on to the pole in front of me. Monique held the pole above her head. “I was just thinking how messed up it would be if I ended up in the hospital tonight, too.”

I stayed quiet. She watched me carefully to see how I would respond.

“Just think, you would have done all this reception planning for nothing after all,” she said, laughing. I started to second-guess my decision to let her go home alone. At this point, I was more worried than she seemed to be. She noticed she was the only one laughing and stopped.

“He’s just not the type to give up so easily,” she said. The train rattled and shook us violently. When it finally stopped I asked her if she wanted to come home with me. “No, I’ll be fine. You’ve done enough. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Yeah, see you in the morning, Monique.”

She waved and squeezed through the crowd. I tried to stop thinking about Monique and tried to plan my outfit for tonight. I had twenty minutes to shower and dress before Amir came to pick me up. Good thing my hair was laid already.

Amir was waiting on Tilly’s stoop when I got off the train. So much for the twenty minutes I had left to get ready. For a moment I considered going on the date just as I was, but I needed to put on more deodorant and had no makeup on at all. That wasn’t going to work.

“Hey, NaTasha, what’s going on?” Amir said. He had on dark slacks and a light blue polo shirt, a nice change from the white apron and khakis that I usually saw him in. He was leaning against the door with one foot crossed over the other. He looked more like a model than my date. My heart started to beat fast and my palms got really wet.

“Hey, Amir, I’m just getting back,” I told him. I didn’t know what else to say. Only five minutes in and I was already saying stupid things. “You want to come up while I get ready?”

Tilly would flip out if she knew I had a boy in her apartment all by myself without her being there.

“Sure,” he said, following me up the stairs.

My whole body rose in temperature. I pointed to the couch I usually slept on so Amir could sit down and relax while I went to get ready. I scanned the area for any of my panties or bras lying around but didn’t see any.

“So, get comfortable and I’ll be right back,” I said. “Can I get you anything?”

He shook his head no and smiled. “Only you.”

Amir was sitting in my living room and I was about to take my clothes off. If Tilly walked in now, she would have a heart attack. I stripped and jumped into the shower, lathering myself two extra times. I brushed, flossed, and gargled with mouthwash. I dressed quickly, but slow enough so I wouldn’t start sweating, and applied two layers of lip gloss. When I walked out of the bathroom, Amir whistled.

“Wow, you look great, NaTasha,” he said, standing to his feet. He put down the magazine he was reading and gave me a once-over. I could see his eyes tracing the bottom of my jean skirt.

“Thanks, you too,” I said. I snatched my purse from the floor and headed for the door. “So, what movie are we seeing?”

I moved to the door expecting Amir to follow me. He didn’t, and instead sat back down on the couch. When he saw me looking at him, he patted the seat on the couch next to him.

“We’re late for the movie already, so I thought we could just stay here,” he said.

Staying in wasn’t what I had in mind. Staying in didn’t require all the extra bathroom time, the extra lip gloss and perfume. Tilly wouldn’t approve of us staying in her place alone.

I shook my head no and kept moving toward the door. Amir pretended not to see me and fiddled with something on
his shirt. All of a sudden I felt childish and silly. Tilly trusted Amir. They had been friends for a while. She wouldn’t mind. She would come home soon anyway.

I hung my purse on the doorknob and went and sat down on the chair across from Amir. He looked up and smiled at me.

“So, we staying in?” he asked with a huge grin, one spread wide across his mouth like he’d just won a bet.

“Yeah, staying in is okay,” I told him, trying to sound like I wasn’t disappointed with the arrangement. It was still good to be hanging out with Amir. He looked good and smelled even better. He had the best smile on a guy I’d ever seen. So what if we weren’t going out for a date. I couldn’t stare into his big brown eyes in a dark theater anyway. “But Tilly will probably be home soon.”

“No problem, your grandmother is cool,” he said, reaching for a magazine in Tilly’s endless supply of reading materials. He opened the
Essence
and flipped through quickly. I looked at the door, hoping Tilly would come waddling through it, but she didn’t. Amir was still flipping through the pages, not appearing to be reading anything in particular. Eventually, he looked up and put the magazine on his lap. “So, what are we going to do?”

I shrugged my shoulders. He was the one who asked me out. He was supposed to have the itinerary taken care of. Now that I had to improvise, I was at a loss. Tilly would know how to improvise. Her guests were usually entertained by a meal, good conversation, or just watching a television show.
Going out to the movie theater was looking better as the time went by.

“Did I hear something about you being a dancer?” Amir asked, in a tone clearly teasing me. Tilly had a big mouth and she was definitely the only one who would have passed that information on. Surprising, since I thought she hated my dancing. “Yep, I’m pretty sure that’s what I heard. Why don’t you teach me some of your moves?”

He motioned toward the area in between us near the coffee table and laughed. I didn’t think so. I was going to have to think of something quick, because I definitely wasn’t putting on any kind of dance show, or any other show. I crossed my legs when I saw him staring at my skirt. Automatically, I covered the scar on my knee with my hands. The fall happened ten years ago, but I still didn’t like anyone staring at it. I scoured all the contents of Tilly’s living room with my eyes, before remembering a deck of cards I’d seen in one of her kitchen drawers.

“Want something to drink?” I asked, changing the subject.

“Sure, thanks,” he said, leaning forward and putting on a pouty face. “Does this mean no dance?”

I giggled and hurried into the kitchen. This couldn’t be how all dates went. If so, I didn’t know many girls who would bother. I was looking forward to Tilly coming home more than I was to spending time with Amir.

But I was stuck, so I pulled two glasses from the cabinet and poured pink lemonade into them. The ice cubes rattled in my shaky hands as I dropped them into the glasses. I opened
every drawer in Tilly’s kitchen searching for the playing cards.

I found them in the last drawer I looked in and carried the cards and glasses back into the living room. Amir’s hand brushed mine as he took the glass from me. He didn’t move his hand away.

“Thanks,” he said. His fingers felt like knife blades teasing the hairs on my own hands. I didn’t like it.

“You’re welcome,” I said, pulling my hand away from his and holding up the cards in front of us. I held them out so he’d reach for them. He took the bait but I was too quick for him.

I tried to set up every game that I knew of: Spades, Speed, War, and even Go Fish. None of them interested Amir unless we were touching in some way or another. His touch was different from our day in the park.

“NaTasha, why don’t you come sit over here?” he said after the third round of War. I shrugged and moved so I was next to him on the couch. But I didn’t feel entirely comfortable about it and I checked the door, praying for Tilly to walk in.

“Now it’ll be harder for you to beat me,” I pointed out nervously, motioning to the small distance in between us, clearly not conducive for card playing.

It was his turn to shrug and move closer to me. He threw his cards down, ending the game.

“Then I guess we’ll just have to do something else.” He leaned in and kissed me, pushing his tongue into my mouth. It was supposed to be nice, but it was so unexpected. I gasped
for air and tried to push him away. He got the point, but dove back at my face like I was a sweet dessert he wanted to taste. I tried to keep up with him, but I couldn’t. I started to get more nervous.

“Amir, wait a minute,” I said, catching my breath so I wouldn’t suffocate from his sucking all my available air.

“What’s the problem, NaTasha?” he asked, like I’d interrupted some important business he had to attend to. “I thought you liked me.”

He looked genuinely confused. He was right. I did like him and here we were all alone. It should have been nice, but this was uncomfortable. I thought of all the talks Heather and I had imagining our first dates, the ones where the guy brings a bouquet of fresh flowers, candles were lit all over the room, a romantic dinner out on the town, soft music playing in the background. There was music playing, but there was nothing romantic about this date at all.

“I do like you, I just don’t like you attacking my face,” I said, trying to lighten the mood. Amir didn’t find any humor in the situation at all. He took a drink from the third glass of pink lemonade I’d poured him and cleared his throat.

“So, do you like me or not?” he asked, sounding like a different person. His voice was dark and harsh, almost intimidating and not friendly in the least bit.

This guy frowning at me in Tilly’s living room couldn’t be the same Amir from the bodega. I thought about how he joked and flirted with Tilly at the meat counter. Tilly would be so disappointed, with Amir and with me. I could almost
see her standing over me yelling, “Girl, keep your morals intact.”

“Yes, I do like you. Weren’t we having a good time?” I asked. He nodded his head yes and leaned into me again. I did want him to like me. Heather wouldn’t believe it when I told her about my real first date. Of course, I’d have to exaggerate a little, but there was music playing in the room and an old bouquet of flowers that Tilly and I had picked up after church on Sunday.

He pushed me back so I was almost lying on the sofa. Amir’s body was heavy and his breathing was heavy, too. His hands wandered under my skirt. I pushed his hands away and tried really hard not to laugh when he touched me around my armpits. He kissed my neck and lifted my skirt with both hands. I thought about my pink panties right away, the ones I only wore on Mondays because of the
MONDAY
embroidered on the front. I wondered if Amir could see the letters. When his hands reached my thighs, Tilly’s face popped into my mind again. I tried not to think about her at that moment, but she was pushing her way through my thoughts like an athlete pushing her way through a crowd in a long-distance race, both her hands raised above her head, and she was screaming, “Make sure you can face yourself in the mirror in the morning.”

Tilly always said that when I was trying to make a tough decision.

I started to wiggle away from Amir and Tilly’s thoughts. Neither one was easy to do. Amir’s body was heavy
and he kept right on kissing me and pulling at my clothing like I wasn’t even there. Three buttons popped open on my shirt.

“Amir, Tilly will be back any minute,” I said, gasping for air and energy to get him off of me. He ignored me at first and then mumbled something about not worrying. He must have forgotten who we were talking about. If Tilly walked in on us, Amir wouldn’t be able to walk home and she would send me home in casts, too. I used my knee and pushed into his stomach until he moved. “We can’t do this, Tilly will be back soon.”

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