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Game night kickoff took place a few days later. The energy in the hotel banquet room was charged. Kami was ecstatic to be surrounded by family again. One thing was for sure, there would not be a repeat performance of what happened the Memorial Day weekend.
Queen was in attendance and she glowed as her brothers, Kidd and Ace, doted on her. Kami studied the woman she had gotten to know better during the summer. On the outside, she held the envy of every woman. If they only knew, behind closed doors, Queen Jamieson was lonely. It was obvious she craved to be around family too—all the time. Lord, please nudge her to move here.
Kami and her family were at their table decked out in their black T-shirts with red lettering reading #TeamParke. “Okay, we’ve got to bring it tonight,” her father said in a hushed voice. “We can’t let #TeamKidd win again.”
“We got this, Dad,” Pace said confidently before stuffing his second helping of mashed potatoes from the buffet into his mouth.
“Don’t talk with food in your mouth.” Cheney’s scolding was soft. How had Kami even been mad with her best, best friend? Her mother was unselfish with her love to all of them.
Soon Papa P called the meeting to order after everyone had indulged from the buffet until they had enough. Her grandfather had made a change to the structure of the night while she was in Tulsa. All who could fast the night before, should do so. Judging from food piled high on plates, a lot of families did just that.
“Young people,” Papa P said, “you are our future, the next generation of Jamiesons. We don’t want the Lord to find you guilty of caving into the pressures from this world, but faultless. We are here to listen—” he paused and scanned the room— “not judge you, so the floor is open.”
Was this moment meant for Kami to get up and confess her sins, or testify how God delivered her from her sins? As she debated, her younger brother, Paden, stood.
“Papa P, a lot of boys at my school don’t have fathers at home. They hate their dads and curse.” Her brother balled his fists. “I love my dad, but they make me feel guilty when I talk about how good he is.” He dropped his head and slipped his hands in his pockets.
Kami’s heart ached that her younger brother had to be around that, but she was exposed to the same negativity. She eyed her father. He seemed just as crushed.
“Grandson, listen to me and listen well. Be a light. You can share things about your father without boasting. Your dad has enough love to give to anyone who is fatherless. While you are singing the praises of my son, don’t forget to sing the praises of Jesus who is a Father to the fatherless...”
The room was quiet as everyone was riveted—children and adults—to the advice Papa P was giving. “Be yourself, Paden.” He smiled and motioned for her brother to approach the head table where the elder Jamiesons, plus Grandma BB sat. “Popularity is unpopular. Make each friend count, and never be ashamed of being a Jamieson and following Jesus.” He embraced Paden, patted him on the back, then kissed the crown of his head.
Kami took the same advice to heart. When none of her other cousins stood, Papa P proceeded with reciting the history of the family tree. Next, every Jamieson child had an opportunity to showcase something from reading from a Dr. Seuss book to acting out a scene from a movie to singing their favorite song. The floor was open for one hour, then it was time to let the game begin.
Tonight, the family had voted on five rounds of the World Black History game.
“Garrett Morgan is known for inventing the traffic light. Name two of his other inventions,” Papa P asked.
Every table had a bell, so Kami rang theirs before jumping to her feet. “He created the protocol for the breathing device that saved soldiers’ lives in World War I, plus he invented a hair refining cream.”
Seconds after grandfather awarded the point, another Jamieson from out of town grumbled his doubts about the breathing device, and that’s when Eva came to her defense, since #TeamKidd had researched and submitted the question.
“Your answer is correct, my dear niece, however, Garrett’s credit was taken away from him following the Lake Erie explosion, his reputation was blemished, and his business suffered when people learned a Black person had the intellect to come up with such a critical device. It’s another piece of history Whites might debate.” She shrugged.
Kami nodded and thanked her aunt. Whenever they answered a question, the contestant had to give the overall history of the topic. She should had given more background information. “In that case, I want to add he also patented his design to improve sewing machines.”
“That’s my baby girl,” Parke said with pride and lifted his hand.
Rolling her eyes, Kami gave him a high five and took her seat.
Uncle Philip stood and strolled to their table and pulled back a chair. He whispered, “I want to be among the winners. I can see Kami is playing to win.” That inspired another round of high fives.
While his sister, Gabrielle, and brother-in-law, Cameron, called him a traitor, Queen smirked. Kami could smell a showdown coming as she watched Queen and Philip exchange taunting glances.
“Here’s a question I thought interesting submitted by #TeamMalcolm.” Papa P grinned. “Who is considered the king of Black comedy?” He scanned the room, then added, “Kevin Hart, Dave Chappelle, and Eddie Murphy aren’t contenders. This was before Richard Pryor and Fred Sanford. We’re going way back.”
Parke hovered over the bell, but Uncle Philip, sitting at #TeamCameron’s table, beat him to it. “George Walker,” he said in a slow drawl that was a contrast to his booming voice when he preached.
“Hmm. That is also debatable,” Papa P told him.
Queen, playfully alternating between her brothers’ table, double tapped the bell at Ace’s as if she was checking into a hotel or alerting a clerk she needed service. Tossing her long mane behind her shoulders, she made a production of standing. Kami always admired the way her aunt was deliberate in her movements.
“I do believe our preacher is forgetting about Bert Williams, born 1874, and died in 1922.” Queen shrugged. “Just a little old fact I know because I’m an old soul who enjoys nostalgia, old comedies, dramas, and romances.”
Uncle Philip grunted. “We have something in common, Queen.”
“Very little, evangelist pastor.” She smiled.
Was it Kami’s imagination, or were her uncle and aunt flirting with each other? She had seen Queen tease men with just her body language or tone, but it was odd that Uncle Philip seemed interested. After all, he was a preacher.
But in the end, her father would not be denied victory, and he refused to step aside to watch the antics between those two.
Pure entertainment, Kami thought.
“This next question was submitted by #TeamParke,” Papa P broke into Kami’s musing. “Name the first all-Black town in the country.”
Kami grinned. That had actually been a question her younger brothers, Paden and Chance, had researched. She was surprised by how the town was formed and that it still existed today.
Her aunt Talise tapped the bell for #TeamAce and stood. “Unionville in Maryland. After the American Civil War, eighteen Black soldiers, who served in the Union Army, returned to the plantation where they and their families had been enslaved. There, they created an all-Black village where everyone was free.”
Since they were correct, #TeamAce won the point.
The night ended hours later with Papa P requesting all the children, from toddlers to teenagers, gather in the center. Kami led the way. With school starting soon, her summer fun and family games would fade as she focused on surviving drama as a student.
The only thing she wanted to do was fade into the background. She didn’t want to get picked on because she prayed before eating her lunch, or for wearing modest clothes, or acing class assignments. She loved learning and excelling in her classes and being part of the cheerleading squad. “Lord, I’m renewed in You, so please let the year go fast,” she whispered as the uncles and aunts stretched out their hands.
Uncle Philip began the prayer and ended with the impartation of blessings and protection at home, school, church, and all public places. “... Now Lord, with thanks for all things, we have fasted and prayed as You have commanded us in Second Corinthians 10:5 to cast down imaginations, and every high thing that exalts itself against You, and bring into captivity every thought to Your obedience. O God, please dispatch Your angels to do Your bidding to protect us. In Jesus’ name. Amen.”
Kami whispered, “Amen,” despite the nervousness that lingered. Before climbing into bed that night, she prayed again for spiritual strength to suffocate the hurt caused by his rejection.
Next Monday, she would see Tango. What a downer. On the upside, she would arrive in her “new to me” car that her dad had helped her purchase, adding money to her summer earnings. She wanted something red, but her father said it was too flashy and could increase her chances of being stopped by the police, so her choices were silver, black, or no car.
She chose black and had Facetimed Susanna and her friend loved it. “It’s so you, Kami, sleek, shiny, and sexy.”
They giggled. Kami did wonder about the analogy Queen said about cars and boyfriends. Hopefully, her driving relationship with her car would be a better experience than the short-term relationship with Tango.
The days of prayer and fasting made a difference, so on the first day back at her high school, Kami felt spiritually empowered as she strutted down the hall like she owned it. Susana wanted her to text an update about Tango as soon as Kami could.
In between classes, familiar faces glanced her way as if she was a new kid on the block. In a sense, she was. Her spirit was renewed.
Finally, the moment that was inevitable arrived. The object of her summer pining was creating a path through the crowd, heading her way. She and Tango were within feet of passing, and he wasn’t alone. One of her best friends was cozying up beside him. That was a double slap because Kami had been flattered when Annisa had said Tango liked her, then encouraged Kami to at least talk to him. Had it all been a setup to make her look like a fool?
Tango had hinted of his lack of feelings while she was away, and the evidence why stood before her. If God hadn’t stepped in to rescue her during the tent meeting, she might have lost control. Who knows if she would have caused some kind of scene—an argument, fight, or something else that would have been out of her character, chasing after feelings that clearly weren’t there?
Although his response had pierced her heart, it served as a confirmation that her moving on had been the right thing to do. Now, in his direct path, she wondered what the protocol was for facing someone who broke your heart. Kami summoned her inner strength to keep her emotions in check.
She inhaled and began to count: three...two...one. God, why is my heart pounding? I’m supposed to be over him. He’s my first car that’s a lemon. She plastered on a fake smile and prepared herself for the brief eye contact. Breathe. She could hear Queen in her head, coaxing her to work the room—or hallway—with a strut her classmates would envy. The moment came and went. Kami exhaled.
Her mission had been accomplished—until Tango back tracked in sync with her steps. Annisa hurried to stay by his side without making eye contact with Kami. Tango smacked his lips and gave her a lustful appraisal—her hair and makeup were done to perfection and instead of her flats, she had on wedge heels—thanks to her aunt’s shopping spree. “You clean up, girl.”
You’re complimenting another woman in front of your new fling, really? Tango scanned Kami’s arm and frowned.
“You removed our tattoo?” He seemed disappointed.
“It no longer worked with my wardrobe.” After the Holy Ghost refreshed her at the tent meeting, she asked Queen to take her somewhere to remove the evidence of bad judgment. Surprisingly after the tattoo was gone, thoughts of Tango didn’t consume her. She walked away, giving an imaginary high five to Susanna. Kami couldn’t wait to tell her friend what happened. “Yep, I’m ready for a boyfriend trade-in.” she said under her breath.
That afternoon, Kami felt good that she had survived the first day without any drama until an unknown girl jolted her—more like slammed into her.
“Watch it, chick,” the new student, either a freshman or transfer, said without a glance then kept walking.
What was her problem? Since she had had a victorious day, Kami wasn’t about to let the devil ruin it.
At home, her mother met her at the front door. “So how was your first day back, sweetie?” Cheney hugged her before she could answer.
“I was a little nervous because I knew I’d run into...When I saw him, it was as if God opened my eyes to see how insensitive Tango really is.”
Kami rested her backpack on the floor and headed to the kitchen to see if Pace had left any snacks for her to munch on before dinner. Her mother trailed her.
Cheney handed her a bottled water. “You’ll meet the right one who will lift you up with love instead of pulling you down with deceit.” Her mother smiled. “But you’ll have plenty of time to meet him, like after college and grad school and five years on your first job.”
“Mom! I don’t know if I want to wait that long, but it will be worth it if he’s like my daddy.” Kami shook her head, and her mind drifted back to school. “I really didn’t want Tango or anybody else to see how much he had hurt me. I acted like Aunt Queen when guys look at her and she ignores them.”
Parke walked into the kitchen and kissed Cheney on the cheek and then Kami. “I don’t know whose had the worse influence on my favorite daughter—Grandma BB or Queen,” he said evidently overhearing some of their conversation. Good, because she wanted her dad to know he was her hero again and the blueprint for any boyfriend to follow.
“And for the record, I expect to meet the next guy face-to-face.” Her father pointed two fingers from his eyes to hers. “So, are you okay about Tango?” Parke sat on a stool and crossed his arms, then his feet at the ankles. If she was reading his body language correctly, he was giving her all the time in the world to talk. Her mother joined them on the other stool.
How could she have taken her parents’ love for granted? “Well, at first, I didn’t think I would feel anything for Tango when I saw him, because I’ve been trying to refocus on my walk with God, but I did... a little. The real pain came with seeing Annisa with him. It was a setup by my so-called best friend. She knew Tango didn’t like me, but what was in it for her to see me make a fool out of myself?” She reflected on the Scripture in Proverbs 1:11: Come with us, let us lay wait for blood, let us lurk privately for the innocent without cause. “I trusted her with my secrets and everything.” Kami held back tears. Betrayal hurt. She had texted Susanna at lunch with an update because she needed to vent.
Susanna didn’t disappoint. She made Kami smile when she replied: I’m your best friend now.
Her mother captured her attention again. “Well, sweetie, sometimes we pick people to be our friends and it works out, but the best friends are the ones God handpicks for you.”
“Amen.” Kami grinned. “Like Susanna.”
The next day at school, she kept to herself. She didn’t respond to a group of girls hanging with her nemesis who whispered and giggled when she passed them. Kami didn’t take the bait to defend her womanhood. Instead, she prayed that God would send her friends here at home—real friends.
Minutes later, the same girl who bumped her the day before walked up to her face and started to provoke her. “You think you’re cute, don’t you?”
Huh? Here we go. Lord, what am I, a magnet for trouble?
Walk away, the Lord whispered instead.
No, not this time. Shifting her books to one side, she rested her fist on her hip. “You’re a good mind reader because as a matter of fact, I do.”
“I think you’re ugly, and I’ll make sure of it if you mess with me again.”
Excuse me, mess with you? Widening her eyes in disbelief, Kami was speechless. She began to assess her classmate. She was the same height as Kami, but a couple of shades darker, and definitely needed a makeup application class from Miss Pearl’s.
Based on what the girl was wearing, no wonder she made the snide remark. She probably would look better if she cared about her hair and the unflattering clothes that made her appearance look boyish, but not gay. There was a spirit of jealousy operating in her midst.
“I wouldn’t worry about her,” another unknown student said to Kami, appearing out of nowhere.”
“And why is that?” Kami lifted an eyebrow, mindful of a crowd forming nearby. Students at her school were good for egging on a fight and using social media to post videos to go viral.
“Victoria’s foster care trash.” The tall girl, who was thick and wore cheap weave, snickered.
Hurt flashed across Victoria’s face, but she bounced back.
Offended herself, Kami didn’t recover that fast. Is that what people thought of her before she was adopted?
“I’m Tammie. This one here picked a fight with me in the lunchroom.” She huffed. “Miss Victoria didn’t know she had to fight my cousins too. We’re an army of six here at school.”
Now Kami had names for their faces. The thick girl was Tammie and Victoria was...Kami didn’t have a description for her yet, but she wasn’t trash. If Tammie was telling her this because she wanted her allegiance for protection or something, it wasn’t going to happen.
This was her senior year, and Kami didn’t have time for cliques. She had to stay focused on maintaining her grade point average, excelling on the cheerleading squad, and graduating with honors, seemingly a simple goal that was being made difficult each day. “What grade are you?” Kami asked Victoria.
“She’s a transfer,” Tammie answered instead.
Victoria huffed and squinted. “A junior. Why do you want to know?”
Between the two, Kami didn’t know who she cared for less. Since it seemed like Victoria and Tammie had issues with each other, Kami slipped away and let the two have full rein.
Something about the encounter with her two classmates bugged Kami the rest of the day. Before climbing into bed that night, she cried out to the Lord on their behalf, then she recalled the derogatory remark Tammie made about Victoria—foster trash. Hmph. “Jesus, I don’t know Your plan, but let me draw them close to You with my actions and defeat the devil in his tracks. In Jesus’ name. Amen.”
Look beyond what you see, and see them as I do, God whispered.
The next morning, Kami coaxed herself to have compassion for Tammie and Victoria and put on magnifying glasses to see the good Jesus saw that apparently she had missed. Both were troublemakers in their own rights.
At school between classes, she saw Victoria at her locker and walked to her. “Hey.” Her classmate faced her and stared her up and down. Clearly, a good night’s sleep didn’t alleviate her major attitude. “Look, I don’t know what you have against me, but I was hoping we could try to be friends.” Kami grimaced. How much time and effort would it take to accomplish that with someone who didn’t like her? She wasn’t sure she could actually like Victoria.
“Nah. I don’t need any friends.” She slammed her locker door shut, dismissed Kami, and walked away.
Tammie appeared. “I told you she was bad news.” She came to her side and folded her arms, startling Kami. “You just keep popping up whenever I’m around her.”
“I have backup. There’s something about you. I feel we have a kindred spirit.”
“Umm-hmm.” She didn’t see a connection at all. Actually, the girl was annoying in a stalker sort of way.
The next couple of days, it seemed as if Victoria went out of her way to avoid Kami. Tammie didn’t. She always seemed nearby. One day when she scanned the cafeteria, she noticed a rowdy bunch at a table. It was Tammie and her entourage.
A couple of guys near Tammie even made Kami blush with their hot looks. How many new and transfer students enrolled this year? Kami spotted Victoria sitting alone across the room, so she headed in her direction.
“Hey.” She sat without an invitation.
Victoria looked up. “What do you want?” Chewing on her hamburger, she waited for an answer.
“To be friends.” Kami smiled. God, I’m doing this for You.
“I told you, I don’t need friends. They turn on you quicker than a trained Rottweiler, and I hate dogs.” She growled as if she was imitating one.
Kami would have laughed if they hadn’t been interrupted. “Hey, foster girl. You’ve got your sister with you too?” Jenny had a reputation last year for picking fights, but coerced others to do her dirty work. Kami wondered if she should try to befriend Jenny as the girl stood over their table. Nah.
Resist the devil and he will flee, the Lord Jesus reminded her of James 4:6–7: He gives us more grace. God opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble. Submit yourselves to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.
Jenny who seemed to have the upper hand with her height and weight didn’t seem to intimidate Victoria. Kami silent prayed, Jesus intercede. Protect the defenseless. You calmed the storm. Speak peace to this storm. In Jesus’ name. Amen.
Victoria got to her feet. Oh boy, Kami thought and stood to show solidarity. An altercation was not her idea of peace be still.
As if summoned, Tammie and her crew appeared. Where was the drama-free zone Kami craved?
“She’s not my sister, and I don’t need one to whip your....” Victoria cursed and balled her fists, ready to take the first swing.
“Back off, Jenny.” Kami paused. “Why are you picking on her?”
The girl gave Kami a look as if to convey, Why are you questioning me? “Why not? She’s the new girl on the block. It’s a welcome party.”
In perfect timing, Mrs. Davis, the lunchroom moderator, shoved her way through the group. “Either eat your lunch or go to detention,” she threatened.
They dispensed in a flash.
When they were alone, Kami snuck glances at Victoria when she sat again. Did they have any similarities?
“What’s wrong with you?” Victoria bit out.
“Do you think we look alike?” Kami didn’t see it. “I was adopted when I was four.”
“Hmph. Congratulations,” she said dryly. “It’s been proven no two people have the exact same eight facial features to be identical, taking into account factors such as head measurement, height, eye color, which is suspect—”
Whoa. Who was this person spewing out data as if she was Miss Google? Kami wondered.
“And for the record, on any given day, there are more than four hundred thousand minors in the foster care system, so I guess we all do look alike.” Victoria swallowed and looked away.
“Oh, by the way, you were among the twenty percent of lucky ones who were rescued.” Standing, Victoria swiped her milk bottle and apple off the table, then stuffed it in her backpack. Without another word, she left Kami sitting there to digest more than the food on her tray.