Keysha
I walked to school at a brisk pace because I couldn’t wait to walk up on Liz and confront her about what she’d done. I wanted an explanation. I wanted to know why she doped me up at the teen nightclub. Why she planted drugs on me and why she was spreading vicious rumors around. The more I thought about what she’d done, the angrier I became. Honestly, what she’d done was grounds for a good old-fashioned beat-down if not more. As I came to the four-way stop sign other students who were also heading to school joined me. That’s when all the judgmental glaring and whispering started.
“That’s her, the drug dealer,” I heard someone whisper. I tried to ignore the whispering but it was difficult. I continued on my way more determined than ever to set things right and to clear my name. Finally I arrived and entered the school through the gymnasium doors. The girls’ basketball team was still having early-morning practice. As I walked across the gym, the entire basketball team stopped dribbling their balls and focused on me.
“Hey,” I heard one of the girls call out to me. I glanced in the direction of the voice and noticed five girls approaching me. I suddenly felt very uneasy. I felt as if something major was about to go down and I didn’t want to be a part of it.
“I hear you’re the one who has given our school a bad name and reputation,” said this girl who was extremely tall. She had on pink sweatpants and a pink T-shirt with the words Don’t You Want to Take Us Out? written across her bosom. The other four girls were dressed similarly but were not as tall.
“Excuse me?” I asked, not understanding what she was talking about.
“Come on.” She leaned into me and spoke in a loud whisper. “Everyone knows you’re the supplier. Everyone knows that you’re going to be going to jail soon. And from what we’ve heard, going to jail would be like going to a family reunion for you.”
I couldn’t believe it. This girl, whom I’d never met before, had approached me with a nasty attitude and had the nerve to talk about my family.
“You’d better get away from me before you get dealt with,” I threatened her, even though I had no intentions of fighting her.
“What, you think you can take me?” She began flailing in a violent manner. “Do you know who I am? I’m Dorothy Pam Pinkerton and I’ll put you in the hospital! You think you’re big and bad enough to jump on me. Come on with it, then. We can do this. Because of you, all of the other schools in the conference believe that our school is filled with drug addicts and losers. Because of all the negative publicity you brought to this school, the college basketball coach who had planned to come watch me play canceled her trip. You may have ruined my chances of getting a scholarship. I’ve just been waiting to see you,” she snarled at me. Anger and waves of rage were in her eyes. The other four girls closed in around me. I looked into the eyes of each girl and all I saw was hatred.
“Look,” I said to Dorothy, “I don’t know what you’ve heard, but it’s not true. I am not some dope dealer, okay? I’m sorry that your scholarship opportunity got messed up.”
“Sorry just isn’t good enough,” she said, then lowered her eyes to slits and moved forward. She was very close now and looking down at me. My heart began to race like a herd of wild stallions galloping across an open prairie. I wanted to run but I couldn’t.
“Make your move.” She pushed my shoulder.
“Did you just hear what I said?” I gave her a nasty look. “I told you that whatever you heard just isn’t true. Your missed opportunity isn’t my fault!” I hollered out loud, hoping that someone would hear me and come to my aid. I quickly scanned around for the coach but didn’t see him. The girl pushed me again and my duffel bag fell from my shoulder.
“Coach Sanders is in the bathroom and he’ll be there long enough for me to jack you up! So, what are you going to do now? I’m all up in your face.”
“You need to back up off of me, Dorothy,” I said, trying to sound tough. I didn’t want to fight, especially not on my first day back from being suspended. She pushed me a third time but then I pushed her back. She tried to grab me but I fought her off. The other four girls began shouting all at once. Dorothy swung at me but I ducked and caused her to miss her mark. Instinctively, I drop-kicked her and nailed her on the thigh. I was about to swing on her but the others girls grabbed me from behind.
At that moment I heard a man’s voice ask, “Ladies, what’s going on over there?”
It was Mr. Sanders, my guidance counselor and the girls’ basketball coach. I exhaled a sigh of relief. I was happy to see him.
“This isn’t over yet, Keysha,” said Dorothy as she limped away. Mr. Sanders approached.
“Keysha, I should have known you were at the center of the controversy. What was all that about?” he asked.
“Nothing,” I answered as the pace of my heartbeat began to return to normal.
“Well, wait for me in my office. I have to give you a permission slip.”
“A permission slip for what?” I asked.
“Students who are returning from a suspension need to have a permission slip from their guidance counselor indicating that their suspension period has concluded.”
“Dang,” I fussed at him.
“Get your attitude in check, Keysha. Getting another suspension would not look good to the judge when your case is finally heard.” Mr. Sanders threatened and advised me all in one swift tongue-lashing.
“Whatever,” I answered as I continued on toward his office.
* * *
Sitting in Mr. Sanders’s office, waiting for him to return and type up my permission slip took forever. I had bigger things to concern myself with. Before being delayed, I had planned to catch Liz at her locker, but now I’d have to wait until first period before I saw her. When Mr. Sanders arrived at his office to meet me, he took his sweet time filling out my permission slip. He finally finished just as the first-period bell rang.
“I’m going to be late for math class,” I said.
“Relax, I’ll walk you to class so that it doesn’t get marked.”
I sighed impatiently and tapped my index finger against his desk repeatedly. My unconscious tapping must have annoyed him because he stopped what he was doing momentarily and looked at me.
“You know, Keysha, it’s no picnic down at the juvenile detention center.” Oh, boy, here we go. Another lecture, I thought to myself. “I’ve been there many times and none of the students have ever said that they loved being there.” I glared at Mr. Sanders because I had no clue as to what he was talking about. “If you get convicted, the judge is going to place you at a maximum-security juvenile detention center. Your freedom will be completely taken away from you. The judge can sentence you to twelve months or longer. The jail cells are cold, the food is horrible and the guards will not put up with any nonsense or foolishness.”
I didn’t say anything to Mr. Sanders. I just shifted my eyes around the room and focused on everything but him. I didn’t want to listen to him. I didn’t want to even think about being locked up against my will for something I didn’t do.
“Don’t get into any trouble, young lady,” he scolded me.
“Yeah, whatever,” I answered sarcastically. He’d gotten on my nerves.
“See, that attitude of yours is going to get you into deeper trouble.” He pointed out what he perceived to be a character flaw.
“No, it’s not!” I snapped at him. “Why does everyone assume that I’m guilty? Huh? You’re not in my corner, Mr. Sanders, so don’t even try to act like it. When the police came for me, you automatically assumed that I was responsible for everything. Well, I’m here to tell you that I’m not.”
“I am here for you, Keysha. I want to help in any way that I can. You say that you’re not responsible, then tell me who is.”
“Forget it. I just want to get to class,” I said.
“You’re only making things worse on yourself by not talking about it.” He tried to convince me to open up to him.
At that moment I made sure every word that came out of my mouth next was filled with damnation.
“The lawyer that my daddy got for me told me not to discuss my case with anyone and that includes you.” I folded my arms across my chest.
“Okay, that’s fair enough,” said Mr. Sanders as he pushed himself away from his desk. “Come on, I’ll take you to your class now.”
* * *
When I walked into my math class, the first person I scanned the room for was Liz. I saw her sitting and talking to another student. The student she was talking to directed Liz’s attention to me. When our eyes locked upon each other I was shooting artillery and missiles with mine. Liz winked at me. She was toying with me the way a cat toys with a mouse. I took my seat on the opposite side of the room and waited for the period to end. When the bell rang, I sprang from my seat and marched toward Liz but was stopped cold in my tracks when Ms. Allen called me.
“Keysha, please come here. I need to see you,” she said.
“Dang.” I stomped my foot against the floor. Liz didn’t even look in my direction. She just walked out of the room as if I were a complete stranger to her. She didn’t say hello, or how is it going or anything. I was so infuriated by this that if I’d had a blowtorch on me she would’ve been toasted beyond recognition.
“Keysha, you need to take a make-up test,” Ms. Allen informed me. I huffed and she mistook my irritation with Liz as an attitude problem with her.
“I don’t have to give you a chance to take this test, you know?” She pulled a pencil out of her desk drawer.
“No, I want to take the make-up test,” I answered.
“We covered a lot of ground while you were out. So you’ll need to spend time catching up. If you need a tutor let me know.” Ms. Allen opened up her lesson book.
“Keysha, Keysha, Keysha,” she repeated. “You’re a borderline D in my class. If you don’t pull it together, you will fail.”
“That’s because I haven’t really been applying myself,” I answered truthfully. “I can do better.”
“I hope so because this class is the lowest math class this school offers. You can’t afford to fail.”
“Okay. I’ll do better,” I said.
“I’ll give you two days to take the make-up test. You’ll need to come into this class early on Wednesday morning. Understood?”
“Yes,” I answered as the students in the second-period class began taking their seats. She focused her attention on the students who were entering.
“Mr. Wesley, long time no see. Please come up here and see me.” Ms. Allen began talking to one of the boys who’d just entered the room. I looked at Wesley briefly but was distracted when I heard the second-period bell ring.
“Dang it. I’m late now.”
“I’ll give you a pass,” said Ms. Allen, and began filling out a late slip.
“What’s up?” Wesley spoke to me.
“Hi,” I said. I didn’t study Wesley because I was in a hurry to get my slip and head off to science so that I could catch up with Liz.
“Are you new here?” Wesley asked.
Before I could answer, Ms. Allen interrupted. “Mr. Wesley, this is not a place to pick up girls. It’s my math class.”
“Oh, sorry about that, Ms. Allen, I didn’t mean to be so disrespectful,” Wesley apologized.
“Here you go, Keysha. Remember, first thing Wednesday, you need to be in here taking that exam. I will not accept any excuses. If you’re not here I will fail you.”
“Okay,” I said, and rushed out of the room.
* * *
When I entered my second-period science class I gave my tardy slip to Miss Eisner, who was my teacher.
“Welcome back, Keysha.” I was all set to go take my seat next to Liz, who was my science partner, but there was someone else sitting in my seat.
“Who is your science partner?” asked Miss Eisner.
“Liz Lloyd,” I answered.
“Oh, yes. I had to give her a new partner since you were out. You are now with William Baker, opposite side of the room and toward the back.”
I grumbled. I did not want to be lab partners with William Baker, whose body funk was strong enough to wake the dead at a morgue. I swore that boy had no idea of what soap and water is.
“Oh, and you need to see me after class to discuss how you plan to make up the assignments you missed.”
I grumbled once again as I caught Liz glaring at me. She placed a silly smirk on her face. It was as if she was laughing at me, and I didn’t like it. The more I looked at her, the more I wanted to strangle her.
I didn’t get a chance to confront Liz right away because all of my teachers kept me after class to talk about all the assignments I had to make up. I knew I’d get my chance to talk to Liz during lunch, so I wasn’t too upset. As I was making my way to the cafeteria, Mr. Sanders spotted me in the hallway and asked me to step inside his office for a moment. Once again, I rolled my eyes and huffed out of frustration. I spent twenty minutes of my lunch hour talking to Mr. Sanders about my failing grades and how, if I didn’t get my act together, I’d end up in summer school or repeating my junior year.
“Keysha, I just got your grades from your teachers. Right now you have four Ds, one weak C and one F. You’ve got to pull these grades up. If you don’t earn your credits you will be in summer school.”
“I know, okay? I’m going to do better.”
“A lot of kids tell me that just because they think it’s what I want to hear.” Mr. Sanders paused and then showed me an envelope that had been opened.
“Do you have any idea of what’s in this envelope?” he asked.
“No,” I answered.
“It’s a request from the court for a transcript of your grades. It appears as if the judge who has been assigned your case wants to know what kind of student you are.”
My heart began racing once again.
“I’m a much better student than what those grades are showing,” I argued. The last thing I wanted was for the judge to think I was completely lame.
“Documentation beats conversation, Keysha. The proof is on paper, not in your words,” said Mr. Sanders.
Even though he was only telling the truth, I still wanted to scream at him because I hated his smug attitude toward me.
“I’ll be forwarding a copy of your grades to the judge and your parents, as well. It’s kind of like my little insurance policy that you’ll change your ways.”
“Fine, I don’t care.” I looked him directly in the eye. “Can I go to lunch now?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said, and I got up and rushed out of his junky office.
* * *
I didn’t have enough time to get any lunch, so I walked directly over to the lunch table where Liz and the crew were hanging out. I rushed up to the table and slammed the books I was carrying down on the table in front of Liz.
“Why did you do it, Liz?” I was angry and restraining myself from calling her every word in the book.
“Do what? I didn’t do anything to you.” She treated me as if I were delusional.
“Liz, you’re the one who set me up! You’re the one who planted that crap in my locker!”
“Sweetie, you need to bring your voice down a notch or two.” Liz was mocking with her fingers.
“I know you’re not trying to tell me to be quiet! Girl, I will beat you down up in this cafeteria and this school if I don’t get an answer!” When I made that statement, everyone at the table began to give us space.
“Hold up, ya’ll,” Liz said with a smirk on her face. “I want everyone to know that Keysha has flipped completely out. It sounds as if that Ecstasy you’re hooked on has killed one too many brain cells because you’re talking like a psychopath.”
“I want answers from you, Liz, and I want them right now, or else!”
“Or else what?” Liz was defiant.
“Yeah, or else what?” said Courtney and Brittany, who were sitting next to Liz.
“If you fight Liz, you’ll have to fight all of us,” said Courtney.
“You see, Keysha, I have friends and you don’t. I have people who will vouch for my character and you don’t. I have a lot of things that you don’t. I’m smarter than you, I’m prettier than you and everyone knows that my style is much better than yours.”
I was so angry I felt as if I were about to explode with rage. Then it happened, something in my mind clicked and I heard a voice tell me to beat her down. I swung at Liz but she moved out of range and immediately sprang to her feet.
“Come on! I’m not afraid of you,” Liz said as she removed her earrings. Everyone sitting at the table suddenly jumped to their feet.
“Fight!” someone cried out. Just as I was about to leap up on the lunch table and punch Liz and her goons in the face, my brother, Mike, appeared out of nowhere.
“Keysha, come on,” he said as he hooked his hands on my shoulders and held me back.
“No, she has it coming, Mike! Let me go!” I shouted out and wrestled to free myself from his clutch.
“What’s wrong? Your brother has to come to your aid and fight your battles for you?” Liz continued to antagonize me. In that moment whatever thread of a friendship we had ended. Liz had just become my frenemy.
“Let me go, Mike!” I tried to jerk away from him, but he was much stronger than I was. He grabbed my arm with one hand and picked up my books with the other and pulled me out of the cafeteria. His clutch was so tight I felt his fingernails tunneling into my skin.
“Why did you stop me, Mike? I was about to kick her—”
“You can’t afford to get suspended again, Keysha! Think about what you’re doing.”
“Let me go!” I snarled at him like a wild monster.
“Keysha, calm down before a hall monitor comes and nails both of us,” Mike snapped at me.
“Okay, just let me go,” I said. Mike wasn’t sure if he should.
“Please, just let me go,” I pleaded, and finally Mike released his grip.
Mike and I argued during our walk home from school. He was talking to me as if I had no business starting trouble with Liz.
“You’ve got to calm down, Keysha. You just can’t go around getting into fights.”
“Why not?” I barked. “She had it coming, Mike. She’s the source of all the drama that’s going on in my life.”
“I know but you’ve got to think about the consequences of your actions.”
“I wasn’t thinking about consequences. All I wanted to do was to beat the truth out of her. I mean, who does she think she is? When I came to this whacked-out school, I didn’t know anyone and she was the first person who acted as if she wanted me as a friend. Then she turns around and stabs me in the back?” I growled. “I want to know why she’s doing this to me. I want to know why she’s treating me like I’m some psycho who doesn’t know up from down.”
“Look, I’m not saying that she didn’t have it coming. What I am saying is that you can’t get involved in a fight. You have two strikes against you already. You have a court case and you’ve been suspended. One more mishap and who knows what will happen? If a hall monitor had come you’d have gotten suspended again, then what?”
“At least I would’ve felt better knowing that I’d gotten suspended for seeking the truth.”
“Ahhh, why can’t you see what I’m saying, Keysha?” I was frustrating Mike because I refused to agree with him.
“No, Mike. Why can’t you see what I’m saying? If I go down for this, they’re going to ship me off to a juvenile detention center and I can’t deal with that, okay? You have no idea of what it’s like to be in a place like that.”
“They’re not going to ship you off to a juvenile detention center.” Mike didn’t believe me.
“You want me to leave, don’t you?” I snapped out on Mike. “You never did want me in the house. You and Barbara really want Jordan all to yourselves. Come on, Mike, say it?” I punched him on the arm. “Come on! Say it.” I hollered at the top of my lungs. “Say it, you jerk!” I felt tears of anger swelling up inside. I didn’t want Mike to see me cry but I couldn’t help it.
“Say it! I know that’s what you’re thinking!”
“Keysha.” He tried to calm me down but his words didn’t offer me any comfort.
“You hate that I know you?” When Jordan discovered that I was his daughter a few months ago, Mike gave me such a hard time. He was suspicious that I was trying to take advantage of their family, and probably felt I was a no-good hood chick.
“Keysha—”
“Whatever, Mike!” I said as I ran ahead of him so that I could completely let my tears go.
When I reached the house, Jordan was home. I gave him an ugly glare before rushing in the house and up to my room. I slammed my bedroom door so hard that several items on my desk fell over. Picking up one of my pillows, I began slamming it against the walls of my room. I’d lost it. I didn’t understand why everything had to be so complicated. In the middle of my display of rage, Jordan walked into my room without even knocking on the door and that ticked me off.
“What do you want?” My words were poisonous.
“First of all, you need to put yourself in check when you’re speaking to me.”
“What for? You really don’t want me here and I know it. You want me to go away. You want me to disappear. I can feel it. You never wanted me in this house. You never wanted me to be around you or Mike. You only took me in because you felt sorry for me. I know it’s true so you might as well say it so that I can move on with my life.”
Jordan closed my bedroom door and leaned his back against it. He folded his arms across his chest and just looked at me.
“I’m going to say this one more time, young lady, and if I don’t get the results that I want, you’re going to see just how ugly I can get. Lower your voice and sit down on the bed.”
I didn’t like being told what to do one bit and I was about to let Jordan have it. But something deep inside me told me not to make things worse for myself. Forcing myself to sit down on my bed, I focused on a spot on my wall. I didn’t want to look at Jordan and right now I certainly wasn’t in the mood for one of his speeches.
“Tell me what’s going on with you,” he asked, but I remained silent.
“Answer me, Keysha.” Jordan raised his voice at me, which made feel worse. The sound of his displeasure with me hit my heart like a flaming arrow and I began to cry.
“Nothing,” I lied.
“No, something is going on and I want to know about it.” His voice became calmer.
As I continued to look at the wall, my tears continued to overflow. I hated the fact that I’d lost command over my emotions.
“Mike probably already told you what happened.” I sounded as if I had several frogs lodged in my throat.
“I want to hear your version of what happened,” Jordan said.
“It was nothing.” I paused.
“Keysha, tell me. We can talk about this. You know that I care.”
“No one has ever really cared about me. No one has ever really cared about what I did or didn’t do. So why do you care?” I asked.
“Because that’s what dads do. We care about our children.”
I took a few deep breaths and tried to calm myself down. “I almost got into a fight today,” I answered.
“A fight! Mike didn’t tell me anything about a fight.”
I was surprised that Mike hadn’t. I automatically assumed that he would.
“Mike arrived in the nick of time and stopped me,” I said. “Please don’t raise your voice at me. It upsets me when you do that.”
“Who were you fighting?” Jordan wanted to know.
“I don’t want to tell you because then you’ll get mad at me,” I answered. Jordan was silent for a moment.
“That girl. What’s her name?” He began snapping his fingers, trying to recall her name.
“Liz.” I told him the name that had eluded his memory. “She’s the girl responsible for all of this mess. I went to talk to her today but she treated me as if I was a complete outsider. She made me feel dumb and worthless, so I was about to make her eat her words.”
“Keysha, look at me.”
I slowly blinked away more tears from my eyes and then craned my neck toward Jordan.
“Under no circumstances are you to be up at the school fighting.”
“She had it coming, Jordan.”
“I don’t care whether she had it coming or not. Fighting is not an option, especially with your court case pending.”
“She’s the very reason why I have the case, Jordan.”
“That may be. However, we’re going to let Asia, the attorney, deal with this.”
“Asia doesn’t know Liz like I do. Liz is a two-faced—”
“Keysha,” Jordan interrupted, “fighting is bad for several reasons. You could seriously hurt someone or they could seriously hurt you, or even worse, if things get too far out of hand, someone could lose their life. I’m not saying don’t defend yourself if you’re being assaulted. What I am saying is that I don’t want you initiating any physical confrontations with this Liz girl.”
I placed my face in my hands.
“She’s ruining my life and she doesn’t even care,” I said. “I can’t let her get away with that.”
“And she’s not. We’re going to prove our case in court,” Jordan assured me.
“How, when everything points to me? How are we going to do that without any evidence? We need evidence or a confession or something. All I was trying to do was to save time, money and a big effort. If I get locked up at some juvenile detention center, you’re not coming back for me and I know it.” I stood up and began pacing the floor. I was trying to think of ways I could torture a confession out of Liz. I was thinking about my grandmother Rubylee and what she’d do in a situation like this. She knew how to make Liz talk like a bird singing in a tree.
“Keysha, I’m not going to leave you,” Jordan said.
“Yeah, you say that now. But I know the minute I get locked up, you’re going to disappear.”
“Why do you think that?” he asked.
“Because everyone has always left me hanging,” I answered.
“Keysha, who came and got you when the police pulled you out of school and took you to the station?”
“You did,” I answered. Jordan was making me remember and think rationally.
“If I didn’t leave you then, what have I done to make you think I’m going to turn my back on you now?”
“Nothing,” I uttered. Jordan stood up, approached me and placed his hands on my shoulders.
“Look at me,” he requested once again. I looked into eyes and listened to the words coming from his heart.
“I will always be there for you. I know it’s hard to accept given the fact that we haven’t really known each other very long, but I need you to place more trust in me.”
“It’s hard for me to trust adults,” I answered honestly.
“I know it is, but you’ve got to place a little faith in me.”
I studied his eyes for a long moment before breaking the connection. Not wanting to have another weird Grandmother Katie moment.
“I don’t want you making things worse for yourself. Fighting Liz at this stage would send the wrong message to the judge and the prosecution. Not to mention it may draw more negative publicity to us.”
“I just want to hit her one good time, though.” Once again I was expressing how I felt.
“I know you do, but that’s not the solution to our situation.”
“I’ll try not to beat her down but I can’t make any promises,” I said.
“Then I’ll help you stay out of trouble. I want you and Mike to be together as much as possible.”
“What?” I was confused.
“You heard me. I want him to be around you as much as possible during the time you’re not with the family. I want you to walk to school together.”
“But Mike has football practice twice a day sometimes.”
“Then I want you to be at those practices with him.”
I rolled my eyes.
“You can’t be serious,” I said.
“Yes, I am serious.” Jordan stood his ground.
“I don’t even like football,” I whined.
“It’s not about what you like or don’t like. It’s about keeping you out of trouble.”
I huffed at the idea of being with Mike so much, but I agreed with him for the moment.
“So, what’s going on with the case?” I asked.
“Things are still in the preliminary stages. The case has been assigned to Judge Nancy Hill, who has requested a transcript of your school records.”
My heart sank.
“What’s wrong?” Jordan asked. “Why do you have that look on your face?”
“It’s nothing,” I said as I began to think about what my guidance counselor told me.
“No, it’s something. Now, what is it?” Jordan pressed the issue.
“Why does Judge Hill need my school records anyway?” I had gotten anxious again.
“It’s not uncommon. It will help the judge make a determination about your character.”
“Huh, she’ll end up throwing the book at me,” I said sarcastically. “Right now my grades aren’t in the greatest of shape.”
“Yes, I’ve heard,” Jordan said. “Today I received a number of e-mails from your teachers explaining your poor performance to me. We have to address that as well.”
“I can do better,” I quickly let him know. “I’m smarter than what my grades say.”
“Then prove it to me. Turn your grades around and show me who the real Keysha is.”
“Okay, I’ll do what I need to do in order to pull my grades up,” I said.
“Just saying okay is not enough. To make sure that you do what you’re supposed to I’m going to be on your back. And don’t worry about this court case. I’ll deal with that, understood? You focus on your education.”
“I understand,” I said, and sat back down next to him. Jordan sat with me and draped his arm around my shoulder. I locked my arms around his waist and we hugged each other. At that moment, hugging him was one of the best feelings I’d ever known.