In the days that follow, I come straight home every day so I can keep a closer watch on Jerome and make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid again. Sometimes I help him with his homework, or we just sit and talk about stuff, like the new guys on the Lakers or his basketball card collection. I know Jerome misses Dad badly. I want him to know he can lean on me, to answer his questions and give him advice on not stressing over the hair that’s growing on his legs.
“It’s a man thing,” I explain. “Girls like hairy guys.”
Zakiya seems a lot nicer now that I’m home more often, but she still manages to get on my nerves. All she does is talk on the phone with Cassie or Minerva, as if they didn’t see each other enough at school. But then again, maybe that’s how Zakiya gets it all out. I don’t need anybody to talk to, not even Maya. Just me, that’s all.
One evening, Max shows up unexpectedly at the apartment, and I’m forced into going out with him and Tom. First, we make a beer run to the liquor store on Peach Street. Then we drive to Tom’s apartment, which is near the university. Tom shares a two-bedroom apartment with Vinit, who is a foreign-exchange student from Iran.
Vinit turns out to be real cool. I spend most of the evening listening to Vinit talk about Iranian culture and the Persian language. At least, he’s not an idiot like Tom who only likes getting trashed.
It’s almost midnight by the time Max drops me off at the apartment. I’m unlocking the front door when I hear a loud, shrill voice call out my name. I turn around quickly as Momma rushes up the sidewalk. Her face is flushed, and she is breathing unevenly as if she’s just witnessed a UFO.
“Momma, what’s wrong?” I ask as she rushes inside the doorway.
Fumbling with the light switch, Momma cries, “Some man tried to steal my purse.” Her body is shivering, and she leans against the wall to steady herself.
“He didn’t hurt you, did he, Momma?” I ask, moving closer to her, not caring about the smell of beer on my breath.
Momma shakes her head. Her voice quivers, “It’s a good thing the bus driver saw what happened. He started honking the horn. Then he pulled over, but the man took off running before the bus driver could grab him.
“Momma, I told you it was dangerous to take the bus that late at night.”
“I know, son,” she replies, wiping the sweat from her brow. “Why are you getting home so late on a school night?”
“I’m fine, Momma. It’s you who don’t look so hot.” Then, wishing I could hurt the man who scared her, I ask, “Do you need to see a doctor or something?”
“I’m just shaken up. That’s all. Don’t need to see no doctor. You been drinking again?”
“I only had a few beers,” I say.
“Drinking don’t solve nothing,” Momma snaps and orders me to bed as if I’m a little kid like Jerome.
The next day at school, I’m walking through the Science building when I meet up with Jonathan. He’s with a couple of his idiot friends, but instead of walking past him, I bump his left shoulder. When Jonathan grunts loudly, I don’t waste a second. I step toward him and smash my fist into his face, watching him topple to the floor. Before he can get up, I give him a swift kick in the stomach. A crowd gathers around us, and Mr. Beecher, the biology teacher, rushes up to pull me away from Jonathan, whose mouth is bleeding. “Take him to the nurse’s office,” he orders the two screaming girls next to Jonathan. Then, Mr. Beecher grabs me by the arm, “Young man, you’re in serious trouble.”
I quietly follow Mr. Beecher to the dean’s office. He’s not there, so we go to the principal’s office. Mr. Marshall asks me to take a seat while Mr. Beecher describes the fight. I know I’m in deep trouble, but I couldn’t care less.
Once Mr. Beecher has left, Mr. Marshall says, “Tyrone, you know we have a school policy that does not permit fighting on our campus. I’m going to have to suspend you for a few days.”
Then he calls Mr. Grinde into his office to inform him about the suspension. Mr. Grinde shakes his head in disappointment, and I lower my head in shame. Mr. Grinde’s always encouraged me to stay in school and go to college.
As I follow Mr. Grinde out to the main office, he asks, “Is there someone at home who can come by for you?”
I tell him no, explaining, “Dad’s working. Momma’s home, but she doesn’t have a car.”
Falling for my story, Mr. Grinde offers to drive me. When I don’t say much on the way, Mr. Grinde tries to calm me down. “You know, Tyrone, it’s only a three-day suspension. And I’ll make sure you get all your assignments, so you won’t get behind. Why don’t you tell me exactly what happened?”
“Nothing happened,” I answer sullenly, staring out the window at the magnificent Laguna landscape, wishing I were invincible like ancient volcanic mountains, which Maya once told me were sacred to indigenous peoples.
Pulling up to the apartment, Mr. Grinde asks if he can come inside to speak with Momma. When I tell him she’s still asleep because she works nights, he backs off, saying he’ll call her later. As I open the car door, Mr. Grinde reminds me to call him if I change my mind about talking. For a brief moment, I’m tempted to tell Mr. Grinde about Dad, but I resist the urge, thinking he probably wouldn’t understand.
The instant I open the door, Momma calls me into the kitchen, where I find her seated at the table drinking coffee. There are dark circles under her eyes, and her tight curls are pulled back in a short ponytail. “Son, the principal called. What’s this about you fightin’? You never done this before. Does this have to do with your daddy leaving us?”
“It has nothing to do with Dad,” I defend myself. “Some white guy got in my face. That’s all. And I don’t wanna talk about it.”
Momma’s voice is hollow as she orders, “Go to your room, and you make sure you stay there, young man, and think about what you did.”
Feeling miserable, I stay in my room listening for Momma to leave for work. After I make myself a tuna sandwich, I go into the living room to watch game shows.
When Jerome walks in the door with Zakiya, she stares at me accusingly and says, “Heard you got suspended for fighting.”
“Shut up,” I reply, turning toward Jerome, whose eyes meet mine. “And don’t you go and think fighting’s cool. All right?”
As Jerome nods meekly, I recognize Dad’s flat nose and square face. Jerome even has dad’s big ears. Too bad, I think. Too bad he has to look like Dad. I’m glad I look like Momma’s side of the family.
When the doorbell suddenly rings, Zakiya comes back in the room with Maya, who gives Jerome a hug and asks him about school. Then Maya turns to me and says, “Hey, Ty, can we go somewhere and talk?”
“What’s there to talk about?” I shrug, taking in Maya’s short skirt that shows off her long, dark legs.
“Come on, Ty. Let’s go for a soda or something?”
For once, Zakiya tries to act helpful. “Go ahead, Ty. I’ll stay with Jerome.”
Glancing around the apartment, Maya asks about Momma, and Jerome tells her, “Momma’s at work. She doesn’t come home until after I’m in bed.”
Grabbing Maya’s hand, I lead her toward the door before she can ask any more questions.
At Lakeside Park, I try to steal a kiss from Maya, but she resists. “Ty, I didn’t come here to make out. Come on. Let’s go sit by the water so we can talk.”
Holding hands, we walk to the edge of the water and find a spot where we sit quietly for a few moments, watching the ducks float peacefully in the middle of the lake.
“Why’d you have to hit Jonathan?” Maya asks.
“Because he’s a dumb ass,” I reply, flinging a rock into the water and scaring away a solitary duck who has drifted away from his flock.
“Come on, Ty. What’s really going on? I know Jonathan. He’s dorky, but he’s not that bad.”
Staring into Maya’s eyes, I think about how hurt I’ve been since Dad left, how awful it is to see Momma’s despair and the terrible emptiness in the apartment every time I walk inside. Struggling with my emotions, three words come spilling out of my mouth. “Dad left us.”
Reaching out for my hand, Maya gently asks me to tell her what happened. Looking away for a few seconds, I blink back my tears, knowing I mustn’t cry. Guys don’t cry, I repeat in my head. Then, taking a deep breath, I start to describe the night Dad left. When I’m finished, Maya tries to console me by saying, “Ty, I know exactly how you feel. When my dad left, I wanted to die.”
“Not me,” I stubbornly insist. “I’m glad he’s gone. But I need to get me a full-time job so I can help Momma.” Then I tell Maya about Momma’s big scare the other night and how she was almost mugged. Maya gasps several times as I conclude, “Maybe if I get a job, she won’t have to work nights.”
“Oh, Ty, you can’t do that. You’re all set to go to Laguna University. You’ve always wanted to be an engineer.”
“Things are different. I gotta help the family.” Then I tell Maya about Jerome and how he got caught stealing, adding, “So I gotta keep him straight too.”
Maya continues to plead with me to return to Roosevelt, but I insist I know what I’m doing. After a few minutes, Maya finally gives up, but I can tell she’s bothered by my decision. Drawing her close, I give her a long kiss. This time she doesn’t resist. When we finally separate, I gaze into her beautiful brown eyes, whispering, “So you’re my girl again?”
Her dark eyebrows dart up. “Maybe. But I’m warning you. Stay away from that Mickey girl!”
When I explain to Maya that she’s the only girl I will ever want, she gives me a second warning.
“Okay, Ty, but remember, if you get out of line, I’ll set Rina Schwarzenegger on both of you!”
Pretending to shudder in fear, I tell Maya, “Come on babe, don’t scare me like that!” Watching Maya’s serious expression change into a grin, I realize just how lucky I am that she’s giving me a second chance.