The Pledge (2 page)

Momma rolled her eyes. Every chance I got, I mentioned dating so she didn't forget her promise I could start going out once I turned seventeen.

“What time does cheerleading practice end?” she asked, sliding a plate of pancakes, bacon and cheese eggs in front of me and my sister. She put a plate in front of her seat then grabbed the Game Boy from Cory, who protested loudly, but Momma ignored her as she turned it off and sat across from us. She grabbed our hands, which was our signal to say grace.

After blessing the food, we dug in.

“Where's Daddy?” I asked.

“He had to leave early,” she said a bit too quickly.

I nodded. I saw a sadness in Momma's eyes, so I tried to cheer her up.

“Practice ends at five,” I said, “but once you get me my Aviator, that won't be a problem since I'll be able to drive myself wherever I need to go.” I had gotten my license, but it was rare Momma let me drive. She said she worried too much with me behind the wheel.

As expected, Momma smiled. The Lincoln Aviator was my dream car, and although we both knew I wasn't getting it for my birthday, we liked to joke about it anyway.

“I probably won't be there until five-thirty since your sister has Scouts after school today. Don't you have a Worth the Wait meeting tonight?”

I nodded as I swallowed a mouthful of eggs. “That's cool,” I said. “By the time I shower and change, it will be about that time anyway. Worth the Wait meeting is at six-thirty.”

Our church had started Worth the Wait last year and Momma had insisted I join. There were actually more members there than I had expected, but I quickly learned half of the girls were there because their moms made them join, too. Only a handful of us were virgins, and although I planned to save myself for marriage, I had started off thinking that was my business, and I didn't make a point of advertising it. But over the last year, hearing all about the AIDS epidemic and the rise in syphilis outbreaks in Alabama and seeing all these baby mommas had made still having my virginity something I was proud of. I made it a point to recruit people whenever I could. I wanted other kids to know that being a virgin was nothing to be ashamed of.

Our adviser, Andrea Mitchell, was cool. She was only twenty-eight, but she offered good advice, and she wasn't ashamed to let the world know she was celibate. Notice I said celibate and not a virgin. She told us she had had sex once and decided it wasn't worth it, and she had been celibate ever since. After prayer and Bible study, we spent a lot of our meetings role-playing how to stay out of heated situations, but eventually we always ended up talking about sex. We all made a point to bring articles and stuff about abstinence and second virginity for those that had slipped up and had sex and wanted to reclaim their virginity.

We all had these necklaces with one pearl to symbolize that our virginity was as precious as a pearl, and Andrea was talking about having a purity ball next year where we would be presented with purity rings and sign purity pacts, vowing to stay celibate until marriage. She had also been encouraging us to invite people of different races to our meetings, and she said it would be nice to invite some guys, too.

I thought about inviting Allen to a meeting and started giggling so hard I choked on a piece of bacon.

“You okay?” Momma asked, whacking me on the back and looking concerned.

I nodded, took a sip of juice, then turned to my sister, who had been really quiet. “So, munchkin, you happy about starting third grade?”

“I guess,” she said, shrugging as she played with her food. Cory was only eight, but she was small for her age. She wore glasses, and they seemed to take up most of her face.

“What's wrong?” Momma asked, frowning.

“What if I don't know any of the kids?” she asked.

Momma put down her fork and grabbed her hand. “Oh, honey, I'm sure it will be most of the same kids who were in your class last year.”

“Yeah, and if not, you'll just make new friends,” I said.

Cory looked at her plate. “But I don't make friends as easy as you,” she said.

“That's not true. You forget I'm shy, too,” I said, feeling sorry for her. “It just takes you a little longer. It's going to be fine, okay?”

“Okay,” she finally said.

My little sister was really shy, and she was right, she didn't make friends easily. She liked to sit back and observe people. I used to be the same way. I still saw myself as the fat kid, and when I saw people staring, I always secretly wondered if they were thinking I looked like a cow or something. Being a cheerleader had given me more confidence, so I was just reaching the point where I could walk into a room and start talking. Regardless, Cory is the sweetest girl I know. Even though she's my little sister, I enjoy spending time with her. She is really pretty hilarious once she gets going, and not many people know it, but she can dance her butt off. I think by the time she's my age and fills out a little, guys are going to go crazy over her.

Momma glanced at the clock. “You guys ready?” she asked, taking a final sip of coffee.

I took another bite of my pancakes and pushed back my chair. “I am,” I said.

Cory just stood without saying anything.

We scraped our plates, rinsed them off and put them in the sink, then we grabbed our stuff and headed out to Momma's Honda Pilot.

“Can I drive today?” I asked.

Momma looked like she was going to say no, so I quickly said, “Daddy won't let me drive his car, so the only time I get to do it is when I'm with you. Please?”

Momma sighed and handed over the keys. “Be careful,” she cautioned.

I nodded and ran around to the driver's side. After we were buckled in, I adjusted the rearview mirror, then slowly backed out of the driveway. As I stopped at the sign at the end of our street, Daddy turned the corner. I glanced over at Momma, and she was frowning.

I blew the horn and let down the window. “Hey, Daddy,” I said.

“Hey,” he said gruffly. He looked like he had just rolled out of bed, and from the looks of it, he had on the same shirt he had worn the day before.

We sat there in silence for a few seconds. When the awkwardness finally got to me, I said, “Well, we're going to be late.” I rolled up the window before he could respond and drove off.

I glanced over at Momma again, but she was staring out the window. Cory was busy playing her Game Boy, which she had grabbed off the counter before we left, so I turned on the radio. I really wanted to listen to 95.7 Jamz, but I knew Momma liked gospel, so I turned it to Heaven 610 for her. They were playing Birmingham's first American Idol Ruben Studdard's version of “Amazing Grace,” and Momma looked at me and smiled.

We dropped off Cory at Epic, which is a school for really smart kids, then Momma and I headed to Grover, which was a few blocks away on the south side.

“What do you have planned today?” I asked, just to make conversation.

“Just working and taking care of you kids,” she said with a shrug.

She just looked so sad to me. “Why don't we have a girls-only day on Saturday? I only have two more free weekends before football season starts. We can go get manicures and pedicures,” I said.

Momma brightened a little. “That'll be fun,” she said. “Dani will be here—”

“Aunt Dani's coming to town?” I asked, getting excited.

My aunt, Loretta Danielle Dennis, is twenty-one, only three and a half years older than me, so she's really like my big sister. She and Momma are half sisters, and they are nothing alike. Momma is all about church and taking care of us kids; Aunt Dani wouldn't be caught dead in a church. She spends every weekend partying, and she has no problem living off all the men she dates. Daddy says she's a bad influence, but I love hanging with her whenever she comes to town. She's been living in L.A. the last few years, pursuing modeling and dating this music producer named Triple T. Before that, she lived in New York with her mother.

She e-mails me every now and then telling these crazy stories about hanging out with celebrities and all these modeling gigs she's gotten.

Her last e-mail a few weeks ago said she had gotten the lead in a national hamburger commercial. I stayed up three days trying to catch it, excited to see my aunt on TV. It wasn't until I saw this ad for, like, the tenth time that I realized Aunt Dani was in it. I didn't recognize her because she was wearing a hamburger costume.

“She said she'll be here later today. I'll call her when I get to work.”

“Okay,” I said, really looking forward to it.

We rode the last few minutes to school in silence. I wanted to ask Momma if everything was okay with her and Daddy, but past experience had taught me that it was none of my business. When we finally arrived, I leaned over and gave Momma a kiss. “Have a great day,” I said. “I love you.”

Momma looked at me and smiled, and her espresso-brown eyes lit up. “I love you, too, baby. You're a really good daughter,” she said.

“And you're a great mother.”

“Thank you. I needed to hear that,” she said.

I wanted to ask her what she meant by that, but before I could, my best friend, Sabrina Davis, ran over to the driver's side and called out, “Courtland, come on.” She looked past me at Momma. “Hey, Mrs. Murphy.”

“Good morning, Bree,” Momma said, and just like that, the moment was gone. “Have a good day, baby.”

I nodded and grabbed my things from the backseat.

Momma walked around to the driver's side and quickly got in and drove away. I watched her, wondering if she was really okay since she normally waited until Cory and I were safely inside the building before she drove off.

“You coming?” Bree asked.

“Yeah,” I said.

We hurried to the auditorium where we sat through the boring first-day orientation where the principal reviewed the do's and don'ts of the school. Since I had heard the same speech the last two years, I tuned him out and gazed around the auditorium, wondering if I would spot any new faces. I checked out the other juniors and seniors first, since I had no interest in dating freshmen or sophomores, but everyone pretty much looked the same. A few people waved, and I waved back, amazed at some of the transformations that had taken place over the summer. Girls had gotten breasts and some had to have bought some hair because there is no way they had grown all that in a few months. Some of the boys were now sporting facial hair, and a few of them were looking kind of good. I wondered which would have the pleasure of being the first guy to date me, and as though in answer to my thoughts, a commotion started at the back of the room.

Bree and I turned to see what was going on. Walking down the aisle as though he was right on time was Allen Benson, and he was much finer than I remembered—he looked even better than he did in my dream. He had been on television a couple of times during the summer, but I hadn't seen him face-to-face since the last day of school. Just the sight of him made a chill run down my spine.

Allen was a senior, and he was the star basketball player at Grover. Word had it that he was going pro rather than going to college, and I had to admit he had skills. Allen could play some ball—and he looked mighty good in that blue and gold basketball uniform.

I felt Bree nudging me, and I nodded, indicating I had seen him. How could I miss him? Allen was about six-two, at least six inches taller than me, and he was fine. He had brown skin, kind of like the color of caramel, and he had exchanged his cornrows from last year for a low-cut fade, which made him look even sexier.

As he got closer to our seats, which were about a fourth of the way from the front of the room since the juniors sat right behind the seniors, I patted my hair, which I had in a bob that touched my shoulders. For cheerleading practice, I could just throw it up in a ponytail, which was great. I straightened my empire-cut purple-printed tunic and checked my feet, which were encased in high-heeled sandals, to make sure they weren't ashy, and thankfully they weren't. There was a piece of lint on my purple Capris, and I quickly picked it off, wondering why I was going through all the trouble since he couldn't see the bottom half of me anyway.

When Allen made it to our row, I thought about speaking, but before I could, our principal called, “Mr. Benson, thank you for gracing us with your presence. If you could kindly take your seat, I would appreciate it.”

Allen lifted his chin in response, but he didn't move any faster, and the students continued to whisper in awe. After he was finally settled, our principal continued his presentation, introducing all the teachers, the cafeteria workers and maintenance staff.

I grew bored again, so I pulled out my schedule, which Bree and I had picked up on our way in, trying to make sure I knew where I was supposed to go after homeroom.

I glanced at the paper and frowned.

“What's wrong?” Bree asked, leaning forward to peer at the schedule.

“They have me listed in the wrong English class,” I said. “I'm not supposed to take African-American lit until next semester.”