Chapter 11
Eleven
Deja
After getting dressed, I go downstairs and sit at the breakfast bar to eat my egg whites and oatmeal.
Brandon sits across from me. His gaze flicks down to my chest and lingers for a moment.
My sore nipples perk up for him. I stare him down, and he shrugs, a hint of a smirk playing across his lips. He’s so annoying.
“Mom,” I say. “I’m going to Ms. Khadijah this weekend to get my braids touched up. Want me to see if Tina has an opening?” Tina does my mom’s perm and cut. She works in the same salon as Khadijah.
“Sure,” she replies absentmindedly, her attention focused on something on her iPad as she picks at her cut-up fruit. “Could you give Brandon a ride to school?”
“Um—“
“Mello can’t drive,” Brandon says, ruefully. It’s my fault is what he’s saying without saying, and this is not an argument I want to have in front of my mom. So, I paint on my best fake smile.
“Not a problem. Meet me in 20 minutes.”
“So, you’re going to have to drive me to school for the next few weeks,” Brandon yells, his head down as he fiddles with his phone.
The open passenger window lets in a blast of cold air, making it difficult to hear anything over the loud wind.
I keep my eyes focused on the road, determined not to let him see how much he bothers me.
“Fine,” I reply, raising my voice.
“What? I can’t hear you,” he shouts.
“Then close the window,” I snap.
“What?”
I use the button on the driver’s side door to raise the window and engage the child lock to keep it shut. As we approach campus, traffic starts to thicken. I’ll have to navigate through a sea of fancy cars during the drop-off rush to reach the student parking lot.
“I said, fine,” I repeat.
Brandon lifts his head, still hunched in his seat. “I’m not annoying you, am I?”
“Never,” I lie, earning a wan smile.
“Well, I’m not sorry,” he retorts.
I shrug. “Why would you be sorry? Like I said, I’m not annoyed.” He begins adjusting the seat controls, moving it back and forth.
“I thought you’d ask me how Mello’s doing.”
“I know how he’s doing. He texted me yesterday.”
“You’re still texting him?” Brandon’s attention is fully focused on me now, scowling as he sits up straighter.
“He texted me. I’d like to text him back so he knows I’m not ghosting him.”
Brandon shakes his head. “I told you not to mess with my friends.”
“He’s my friend too. And I’m not messing with him. Come on, Brandon. He’s hurt and I feel like I kinda owe him…something.”
“Nuh uh. Cut it off, or I might have to change my mind about Mackenzie.”
“Are you jealous right now? Is this because you think I like Mello?”
“Then why are you trying to talk to him?”
“Same reason anybody would want to talk to him right now. Because he’s my friend and he got hurt. I feel like I’ve said that already.”
A loud honk sounds behind us as the traffic light has turned green. I pull through the intersection. Taking a deep breath, I compose myself.
“My ass is still sore, Brandon. I am not trying to get another licking on top of it. I just feel like it would be super rude not to get back to him. That’s all it is.”
“As long as that’s all it is,” Brandon says, giving me a stern look.
I keep my expression neutral, but inside I’m feeling a little something.
Has Brandon been jealous this whole time?
Could that be the real reason he spanked me, because he thought I was into another guy, or even two other guys?
It’s kind of a weird way to go about it, though.
And yet I have to admit without that spanking I probably wouldn’t have fooled around with him.
When I get to school, Mackenzie and Shel are waiting for me by my locker. Kenzie looks hot as shit in a crop top, Levi’s 501s and an oversized jacket. She’s giving 90s and I’m here for it. One of the football players winks at her as he walks by.
“You look amazing,” I tease, opening my locker.
“She’s actually just making sure he knows what he’s missing,” Shel says. Like me, she’s dressed in our regular fall uniform of jeans, a t-shirt, and a hoodie.
“Who?”
“Brandon,” Shelby says, but Kenzie rolls her eyes and sighs as if she doesn’t agree.
“Did I see you guys come in together?” Kenzie asks, her eyes focused on the entrance.
“I have to give him a ride to school from now on.” My tone is bitter. “He was carpooling with the guy who got hurt on Saturday.”
“That sucks.” I shrug.
“Kenzie told me you saw Brandon kissing somebody,” Shelby says.
“No, I didn’t.”
“But…” Shelby, confused, shoots a puzzled look in Mackenzie’s direction.
“Stop being so extra, Shelby,” Mackenzie says. “I didn’t even like him that much.”
“What even happened on Sunday?”
“I asked him if he liked me and someone else. No big deal.”
“But he was flirting with you, right?”
“Guys flirt, Shel,” Mackenzie responds. “That’s what they do. They’re just full of shit.”
“Is that really fair, Kenz. It’s not that weird to be flirting with more than one person at the same time. I was—” I catch myself just as I realize what I was about to say. Shelby looks at me with wide eyes and Mackenzie is shaking her head. She stops walking, forcing us to stop too.
“I knew it!” she says. “You were talking to Gio and that black guy. That’s why they were acting aggro.”
“I don’t know,” I answer. “I probably shouldn’t have invited Mello to the party knowing Gio might be there, but I never thought Gio would act like that. I don’t even think he really likes me.”
“Really?” The hopeful lilt in Shelby’s voice just makes me sad. You are too good for that guy, I want to tell her.
“That guy’s a player,” Mackenzie says dismissively. “But going back to Brandon I guess you’re right. I wonder who it is, though. Probably some fugly soccer chick.”
“Or a ghetto chick from his old high school,” Shelby says, brightly. She has the decency to blush when I give her some side eye. I can’t sometimes with these white girls. First calling Mello “that black guy,” now this?
”Can we focus on English right now?” I say, allowing some of my irritation to slip into my voice. “I think we’ve already given Brandon way too much of our time.”
“True,” Kenzie says, walking into the classroom and finding her seat.
I take mine next to her, with Shel on my other side.
All eyes are on us, the boys admiring, the girls jealous or wishing they were us.
The sensation of being watched settles over me like a familiar blanket.
I sit up straight, school my features into a half-smile, and wait for class to begin.
I get to the lunchroom a few minutes late that day because I stayed back to ask my chemistry teacher a question.
Mackenzie, Shelby and Lorelei are already at our table.
Gio is standing next to it and talking to them.
I can’t see Mackenzie or Shelby’s expressions, but I catch Lorelei’s subtle eye roll.
I wonder if he’s going to ask to eat lunch with us.
They know not to say yes to anyone before I get there.
I don’t like to be mean, but I will be if I have to be.
I guess he’s not as pissed anymore if he wants to sit with us.
I wish I could check my phone to see if he’s texted me, but of course my phone is in my locker, and I was in a rush since I was running late.
By the time I grab my lunch and saunter over to the table, Gio is nowhere in sight.
“So then she says, ‘If you can’t figure out how to calculate the density of a liquid, I’m not sure what you’re doing in this class,” Lorelei says, and the girls all laugh.
"Hey, girls," I greet them, setting my tray down and joining the conversation.
“Hey, Deja.”
“What's the deal with you and Gio?” Lorelei asks, pushing a French fry around her plate. She loves fries, but she’s paranoid about gaining weight.
She usually gets them, eats two or three, and then gazes longingly at the rest for the remainder of the meal.
I always think, "Why even tempt yourself? " but it works for her.
“What do you mean, what’s up?” I sound nonchalant because I really am. I had my reasons for talking to Gio, but I’m much less bothered by his giving me the cold shoulder than I’d expected to be.
“He was just over here acting like he’d never heard of you.”
“What’d he say?” I ask.
“We told him you were running late, and he was like, ‘Whatever, that’s not why I’m here.” I chuckle.
“Then why…?”
“He asked me to Homecoming,” Shelby says in a small voice. She’s as pink as a rose petal.
“Interesting…” I say, taking a bite of my salad.
I debate whether I want to point out that he could have asked her in private, but chose to do it in front of everybody after making sure everybody knew he didn’t give a fuck about me anymore.
I'm worried that this isn’t about Shelby at all, and she really likes him.
She could get hurt here. But if I say this in front of everyone, it will make her look stupid if they start dating, so I hold my tongue.
I’ll give her that warning when we’re alone and let her decide if she thinks it’s worth the risk.
“It’s fine if you want to go with him,” I say, smiling. “We’re not together.”
“Did you guys break up?” Lorelei asks.
“We were never together.” I chuckle good-naturedly. “If you like him, Shelby, I say go for it. He wasn’t the right guy for me, but he’s not an asshole. I’d say give him a shot.”
“It’s just a dance,” Shelby says in her usual small voice. She’s trying to play it off like this isn’t a big deal to her, but the look I share with Mackenzie assures me that I’m not the only one who noticed her crush on him.
“Does everybody else have dates?” I ask, lightly.
“I’m going with Jackson, of course,” Lorelei says. They’ve been boyfriend-girlfriend since sophomore year, so that’s not a surprise.
“I’m not sure yet,” Mackenzie says, tightly.
“Who are you going to Homecoming with, Deja?”
“Jayden,” I say, smirking. I haven’t asked him yet, but my ex-boyfriend’s college is only two hours away and he’s always down to do me a solid.
“That’s awesome,” Lorelei says. “How’s he doing?”
“Good.”
I glance at the wall clock and notice that we only have another ten minutes of lunch.
"Hey," I say, getting an idea. "Why don't we get our hair and makeup done at Melodie Yang's house like we did for prom?" Our school isn't that big, so we have a junior-senior prom. All my friends went during our junior year.
“You mean trick her into paying for it again?”
“Do you want to pay for it, Kenz?” I ask her.
“Melodie!” Mackenzie yells, waving at a nearby table. “Hey, girl. Can you come over? What are you doing after cheer practice?”
It’s almost 8:00 pm and near the end of long day before I have time to call Carmello. He picks up on the second ring, but he doesn’t sound exactly excited to hear from me.
“How are you feeling,” I ask him.
“Better,” he says. He sounds tired. “Wish I could get something stronger than Tylenol.”
“Are you in a lot of pain?”
"Some. But I'll be fine," he assures me.
“When are you coming back to school?”
“As soon as I get my hard cast on. Probably by Thursday.”
“That’s good.” The conversation isn’t flowing very smoothly, and I struggle to find the right words.
“I’m sorry for what happened,” I finally settle on.
“Huh. Why? You didn’t tackle me.”
“I know.” There's a brief pause.
"What was the deal with that guy? I know he's not your boyfriend, or Brandon would have told me, but you guys looked pretty cozy when I got to the party."
“Not gon’ lie, we were kinda talking.” I hear the sigh through the phone.
“I thought we were talking,” Mello says.
“We were,” I admit.
“But you’re going to keep talking to him?”
“No,” I insist. “I’m definitely not talking to him anymore.” I consider for a moment whether to tell him about Gio asking Shelby to Homecoming, but it might sound like that's the reason I stopped talking to Gio.
“Cause he got all jealous?”
“Nah,” I say. “Maybe. He was acting the fool on Saturday. That’s a whole mess I don’t need.”
“I want to be happy about that, Deja,” Mello says, “but I don’t really like that you were talking to another guy and didn’t tell me.”
“Why would you think I wasn’t?” I shot back. “We haven’t even known each other for two weeks. Shit, you haven’t even asked me on a date.”
He doesn’t answer for a minute, but what he says next isn’t totally surprising to me.
“I been talking to this girl from my old school too,” he admits, his voice filled with embarrassment.
I could get mad about this, but like I said, we've never been on a date.
TBH we barely know each other. At least he doesn't act holier than thou and pretend I was the only one keeping my options open.
“Do you like her?”
“I like both of you,” he says. “You’re really different from each other—“
“Don’t tell me any details.” To control the urge to bite my nails, I grab a marker and start doodling on a piece of paper.
A densely petalled flower starts taking shape.
“If you’re trying to decide who you want to date, don’t wait for me, okay?
I’m not even sure I want a boyfriend. I have cheer, games most Friday nights, we’re going to start preparing for competition pretty soon, and I’m taking two AP classes.
It’s just a lot. And I know Brandon is your friend, but he won’t stop giving me a hard time. ”
“Yeah, he can be kind of a lot sometimes.”
“Right!”
“But he’s a good guy, you know.”
“I’ll have to take your word for it. Also…I’m going to Homecoming with my ex. It’s not a real date or anything. We’re just friends. I just want you to know that I wasn’t blowing smoke up your ass just now.”
I wish I could see his face, to gauge his reaction. He’s not saying anything back. I don’t want him to think badly of me. I’m pretty sure I’m not going to date him, but he’s a good guy. I genuinely don’t want to hurt his feelings.
“I’ve gotta go,” he says. “I have to turn in my homework before I go to bed.” I assume he has to either email it or upload it to Blackboard.
“Okay. Talk to you soon.”
“Talk to you soon.”
I disconnect the call and lean back in my task chair, sliding my knees back and forth so the chair turns in a tight half circle and then back. What a day.
I pull my chair up to the desk and open my AP Physics textbook.
I mark the end of the chapter with a flag, pull out my notebook and pen, and start reading.
Time to put the drama aside and get on with what I’ve got to do.
It’s less than an hour before bedtime, so I’d better focus and get this shit done.