Did I really just say “nothing”? I’m so busted! Claudia’s giving me the crooked eye. Not like I had a chance with homegirl anyway. I can’t believe Willie Mack and Freddie opened their mouths. That’s some foul ish. And now I’m standing up here looking stupid over some lala. Ain’t nobody saying jack. They’re just staring at me.
I can’t wait to get out of here. Five more months till Miami. T-Diddy had the crowd fired up. I was sounding good for a minute, though. Claudia checking me out, smiling. Why is it so damn quiet out here? Somebody say something. Claudia, say something. I helped you out, you could return the favor, Miss Stuck-Up. But you’re probably too good for that.
T-Diddy ain’t going out like this. I’ll just be quiet too, like Gandhi. Yeah, T-Diddy about to be Buddha up in here. LOL!
Clyfe was talking about Gandhi the other day. What’s that quote he was saying? Something like, “In silence the soul finds the path.” Or “the light comes through the attitude of silence.” Something like that. Wait a minute! Oh, snap, I’ll quote some of that Gandhi ish. Watch out, T-Diddy is about to bring the noise.
“Y’all heard T-Diddy. We ain’t doing nothing,” I repeat. “In our quietness, we will find the light.” I look at Claudia, and she has the same baffled look as the rest of the students. I wink at her. Am I getting inside your head yet, homegirl? “Time to galvanize the streets,” I whisper to her.
“Well, you better galvanize them quick, because first bell rings in five minutes,” she says back to me. I had forgotten about the time. I look at my phone. We’ve been out here for twenty-five minutes.
My adrenaline is on super charge. It’s like I’m back on the field, down a score, with less than a minute left on the clock. I can read the defense. The blitz is coming on strong from both sides. The center hikes the ball, I drop back, fake a handoff to the fullback, run to my right, there’s a big joker coming hard for me. I reverse to my left, there’s two more charging full speed. I look downfield, see Fast Freddie sprinting toward the goal. I pump fake a pass to him, and the animal on my right stops, turns, just long enough for me to dodge around him. I’m running this ball. Willie Mack throws me a mean block. T-Diddy’s going in for the touchdown. Oh, yeah, I’m about to score, Claudia Clarke.
“What do you mean, we’re doing nothing?” Blu screams.
There are more rumblings from the crowd. Kids are getting restless.
“I mean, today Dr. Martin Luther King would be like seventy, if he were alive.” Homegirl holds up seven, then eight fingers. Close enough. “Let’s honor him by taking a stand, Panthers.” The crowd goes wild. I yell at the top of my lungs, “We’re fired up, can’t take no mo’. We’re fired up, can’t take no mo’. We’re fired up.”
“Can’t take no mo’,” the crowd chants.
“We’re fired up.”
“Can’t take no mo’,” they repeat.
“It means that today at eight fifteen a.m., in protest of all the problems here at West Charleston High School, like, uh, filthy bathrooms—”
“Yeah, and nasty lunches!” a kid yells.
“Ancient textbooks . . .” Claudia tries not to smile, but she can’t help herself. “The ridiculous ban on school dances . . .”
Wild applause from the students. I’m starting to feel this protest rally thing.
“But most importantly,” I continue, “T-Diddy stands before you about the arts funding being cut. This is the last straw. We’re fired up, can’t take no more!” More loud cheers.
“This morning, when everyone’s in class. At eight fifteen, right after the tardy bell rings, repeat after me: WE. WILL. ALL. BE. QUIET. For ten minutes. Holla if y’all hear me!” Piercing yells. “A’ight, quiet down, quiet down . . . this is what we gonna do. At the beginning of first period, nobody says a thing, for like ten minutes. Until they listen to what we want, to what we need to change our condition, there’s nothing more to say. Feel me.”
The warning bell sounds, which means we have like three minutes to get to class. The crowd disperses, chanting, “We’re fired up, can’t take no mo’.”
I help Claudia down from the bench. “What do you think about your boy now?”
“I think if you’re going to be using other people’s words, you ought to learn the actual quotes.”
“Oh, you got jokes. Don’t hate ’cause T-Diddy brought that Gandhi fire!”
“For a minute I thought T-Diddy was about to go up in flames,” she say, trying not to laugh, and failing a little. She’s a tough nut to crack.
“Shows how much you know about the nonviolence movement. Dr. King, baby!”
“It’s an interesting plan. I hope it works,” she responds.
“T-Diddy always plays to win.”
“Well, we better get to class.”
“Should we meet after school to, uh, debrief?” I say, smiling and hoping she gets my hint.
“Good-bye, Omar.”
“Good-bye, Beyoncé,” I mouth as she walks away in black jeans that barely make it up her waist. I was so caught up in the rally, I hadn’t even paid attention to the jeans. Oh, snap, she wore the jeans.
“The best thing you never had,” Willie Mack says, sneaking up behind me.