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Malajia speared a piece of romaine lettuce with her fork. “I have an idea about what we should do during Thanksgiving break.”
“You’re still on that?” Sidra asked, then bit into a dinner roll.
“Yeah, so?”
“Mel, we’ve been away from home for months. I’m pretty sure people would prefer to just stay home,” Sidra argued.
“First of all, Thanksgiving break is four freakin’ days. We can spend Thursday and Friday with our families and still do something Saturday and Sunday.”
“Okay, ladies,” Alex laughed, “let’s hear Malajia’s plan before she gets indigestion.”
Malajia moved some hair off her face. “Thank you,” she said. “I was thinking that we could stay at a luxury hotel for the weekend.”
“Why?” Chasity asked, picking at her turkey wrap.
“We don’t have enough time to go on a trip, but we could still do something fun on the weekend.”
“So, where do you plan on renting this luxury hotel room?” Alex asked, not quite ready to prick Malajia’s bubble.
“I haven’t quite figured that out yet, but I will.”
“Time out here,” Sidra interjected. “Be realistic. Staying in a luxury hotel for a weekend is going to cost a lot.”
“Yeah, I don’t have that kind of money,” Alex put in. “Actually, I have no money.”
“Why are you two even entertaining this nonsense?” Chasity asked. “Malajia’s little plan is never going to happen.”
“Look rich girl, I’ll find a damn way,” Malajia shot back. “I am not staying in that house with those damn Simmons people for four days straight.”
“Um, Malajia?” Emily tapped Malajia’s arm.
“Emily, shut up. You’re going.”
“No, I was gonna tell you that it’s time for your class to start.”
Malajia looked at her watch. “Oh shit!” she shrieked. “I have to go, we’ll talk later!”
“Malajia, slow down. You’re going to fall in those heels,” Sidra shouted after her.
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Midterm grades came out the week before Thanksgiving break, and students were clustered around their mailboxes anticipating the results.
“I know I got all A’s, I know I got all A’s,” David chanted happily and ripped open his envelope. “Yes, I knew it.”
“Man, shut up. I’m sick of you,” Mark grumbled.
“Aww, what’s wrong, ‘F’ man?” David teased.
Mark snatched open his envelope. “Ha, ha. You’re salty, I didn’t get not one damn F.”
“Just a couple of D’s,” Jason observed, looking over Mark’s shoulder. “If I wasn’t on this athletic scholarship, I would probably be screwing up too.”
“No, you wouldn’t,” Josh contradicted.
“You’re right. I wouldn’t.”
“How’d you do, Jase?” one of Jason’s teammates called out.
“B’s.”
“Ah, typical freshman. When you’re an upperclassman, you’ll learn you can get by with C’s.”
“Get outta here, Carl,” Jason said with a laugh.
“All right, dude. See you at practice.” Turning, Carl bumped into Chasity.
“You wanna watch where you’re going?” she snapped.
“Hey ladies,” Carl grinned. “Coming to the game this Sunday?”
“Not to see you play,” Malajia brushed him off. This wasn’t the first time Carl had tried to hit on them. He had a reputation for being a player.
“That’s okay, I’d much rather see your friend here anyway,” he said, looking at Chasity.
“Sorry, sweetie,” she said, sizing up the short, stocky guard. “You’re a bit too small for me.”
“Well, you know what they say...”
“Carl, back off,” Jason warned, going into protective mode at the sight of Chasity’s frustration.
“Ugh, he makes me sick,” Malajia said, watching his retreating back. She turned her attention to Mark. He was leaned up against a wall of mailboxes, preventing her from getting to hers. “Could you move please?”
Mark, feigning niceness, moved aside and let her pass. As Malajia went to open her mailbox, he unzipped her book bag, spilling its contents on the floor. Malajia cursed as she nudged him away from her.
“Mark, just leave her alone. You play too much,” Josh advised, watching Mark laugh at the sight of Malajia picking up her papers.
“So,” Alex asked, shaking her head at their antics. “You guys survive midterm grades?”
“Barely,” Mark admitted.
“Yep,” Jason nodded.
“Make that a mega-yes,” David added.
“Shut up already,” Mark complained. “Nobody says ‘mega-yes’. You nerd.” David sucked his teeth at Mark’s snide comment.
“That’s what you get, Mark, for always playing—a bunch of C’s and D’s,” Alex put in.
“How did you know what I got?” He frowned.
“I guessed. And by the look on your face, I was right.”
“I don’t have time for this bullshit,” he scoffed. On the way out of the mailroom, Mark deliberately bumped Malajia, and her mail went flying in all directions.
“I hate you!” she screamed, stooping to pick up her grades.
“Anyway, how did you ladies do?” Josh asked when he stopped laughing.
“All right,” Emily answered cautiously. She was a little worried about the two C’s; her mother would not be pleased.
“These grades are only to show you how you’re doing so far. These are not your final term grades,” David informed.
Chasity’s cell phone rang. “Hello? Yeah....five B’s and a D....So, I hate math anyway.....Yeah whatever....I already told you I’ll be there. Bye.”
“Your aunt Trisha?” Malajia asked.
“Yes, nosey,” Chasity responded, shoving her phone back into her bag.
“Well, I’m this close to getting a D too—in that stupid Public Speaking class,” Sidra moaned.
“Sidra, that class isn’t so bad.” Alex shook her head, and then looked over at Chasity. “What did your aunt say?”
“That I should try to bring my D up by the end of the semester.”
“Or else what?” Jason asked.
“Or else nothing.”
“Jason, Chasity’s aunt spoils the crap out of her. She could bring home straight F’s and she’d still get a diamond tennis bracelet,” Malajia sniffed.
“Shhh, don’t get jealous, sweetie,” Chasity cooed, walking out of the mailroom.
“Chasity, I can tutor you in math; I’m pretty good at it,” Jason offered, heading out behind her.
“Ugh, time for me to call my nosey ass parents and tell them my grades. I’m gonna hear my Dad’s mouth about it, I just know it,” Malajia sulked as she walked out.
“Now, you wouldn’t be stressing so much if you all had...”
“A’s, if we had all A’s,” Sidra interrupted David’s teasing. “We know that you get A’s every time David. We get it.”
“Ah, the sound of envy, I love it,” he joked and Sidra playfully elbowed him in the ribs.
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The girls walked back to Torrence Hall. They were about to go up to the room, when the resident adviser called out.
“Sidra, a package came for you.”
“Since when do packages come to the dorms?” Malajia asked. “I thought they were supposed to go to the post office.”
“Since Sidra’s mother had it delivered here,” the adviser sniffed, flicking to another page in the magazine she was reading.
“How come my parents don’t send me any damn packages?” Malajia complained.
“Please stop whining,” Chasity demanded.
“Come on, ladies. Let’s go,” Sidra said as she grabbed her package off the counter.
As soon as they got to the room, Chasity tossed her books down on the chair, and walked over to her mini-refrigerator.
“Ooh, you got food!” Malajia exclaimed, sprinting over.
“Get your greedy ass away from me,” Chasity snapped and shut the refrigerator door. Malajia was really hungry; she’d missed lunch because she’d spent hours talking on the phone instead.
“You’re gonna give me some food,” she ordered, struggling to reach the refrigerator door. “I’m hungry.”
“It’s not my problem you missed lunch,” Chasity shrugged, knocking Malajia’s hand away. “You shouldn’t have been running your damn mouth on the phone.”
“But I was talking to my sister, Geri.”
“I don’t give a shit,” Chasity shot back.
“I cannot believe that you two are old enough to be legal adults,” Alex grinned as she watched them tussle over the fridge. “You act like children.”
“Girl, move!” Chasity ordered, giving Malajia a push out of the way.
“Will you just share?” Malajia shouted and tossed a pillow at Chasity, catching her on the arm. “I hope that your wrist still hurts.”
“Well, it doesn’t,” Chasity taunted, throwing the pillow right back at her.
Sidra laughed, taking a seat on her bed to open her package. “Yay! Mama sent my winter clothes.”
“You sure you have room in that closet?” Chasity asked as she combed her hair back into a ponytail.
“I hope your hair falls out too,” Malajia muttered.
“Will you shut the fuck up?” Chasity yelled.
“I just want some food,” Malajia protested.
“You know what,” Chasity barked, flinging a bag of bagels and plastic container of cream cheese at Malajia. “Take the damn food and shut up.”
“Thank you, darling. You’re so sweet,” Malajia said, tearing open the bag.
“Oh, my gosh,” Sidra gasped.
Surrounded by winter clothes, she clutched a little rectangular box. “Condoms. My mom sent me condoms!” She ripped off the attached note. “‘Don’t come home with any babies,’” she read aloud. “My mama is crazy.”
Malajia took the box out of her hands. “Ooh, the ribbed kind. What does Mother Howard know about ribbed condoms?”
“What do you know about them?” Chasity asked smartly.
“No more than you do,” Malajia shot back.
“Is there something that you’re not telling us, Miss Princess?” Alex teased, leaning up against the dresser.
“No, it’s just that my mom is absolutely petrified that I’m going to get pregnant,” Sidra said with a laugh.
“Trisha gave me a box of those for my sixteenth birthday,” Chasity offered.
“I don’t know why. It’s not like you let anyone touch you anyway,” Malajia mocked. “Sidra, since you’re not gonna use them, just give them to me.”
“Oh why? What are you gonna do with them?” Alex asked, cocking her head at Malajia.
“You know what, let me just put them away,” Sidra decided and shoved the box in the top drawer of her dresser.
“Are we going to dinner?” Emily asked meekly.
“Yeah,” Alex said as she stood up. “All this drama is enough to work up an appetite.”
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“These coats are ugly,” Malajia scoffed, putting another one of the garments back on the rack. Her winter coat had a hole in it, and after hours of whining and pleading, her father had finally given up and agreed to put money in her checking account.
“Malajia, please, come on,” Chasity urged. She hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before, and she was paying for it. She dreaded Thanksgiving break, but there was no way to wiggle out of her aunt Trisha’s plans. Trisha’s daily phone calls made sure she realized that.
“Look, if the coat has to last me all winter, then I’m gonna pick the cutest one,” Malajia stated and wandered out of the store.
Her eyes lit up when she saw the mid-length red coat in the window display. “That’s the one,” Malajia cried with joy, and hurried into the elegant boutique. “I have a pair of boots that will be perfect with it.”
Chasity casually fished inside the coat’s sleeve for the price tag. “Malajia, this coat costs eight hundred dollars.”
Malajia peered over her shoulder. “I see that. I can read a price tag,” she shrugged. “I better find an ATM machine and check how much money my dad put in this morning.”
“Just hurry the hell up,” Chasity insisted. “I saw one outside, a couple of doors down, across from the fountain.”
Malajia skipped to the machine, slipped in her debit card, and clicked out her pin number. Chasity watched as Malajia frowned.
“What,” she exclaimed, “Two hundred dollars? Are you kidding me? Two hundred dollars?”
“Malajia, you’re yelling at a machine,” Chasity pointed out.
“I want that coat,” Malajia whined.
“You don’t have enough for it, whiny,” Chasity jeered.
“Don’t you think I know that?” Malajia yelled, “I just saw my balance on the screen,”
“You’ve got one more time to raise your voice at me, then your ass is walking back to campus,” Chasity warned, holding up a gloved hand.
Malajia stomped her foot on the ground. “That’s not fair. I can’t get a coat with just two hundred dollars.”
“Sure you can. Just go back to the other store, and buy one of those coats,” Chasity advised in a tired voice. “Or just ask your Dad to put more money in.”
“Are you kidding me?” Malajia scoffed. “My parents didn’t even want to give me this. My cheap-ass dad probably had a heart attack when he deposited this money.” She broke off and surveyed Chasity. She’d always liked that double-breasted black coat. “Sell me yours.”
“Malajia, this coat cost me a thousand dollars, and I like it.” Chasity shook her head.
“Please, Chasity, you can buy another one,” Malajia whined.
“No, Malajia,” Chasity barked. “I’m leaving.”
“Come on, please?” Malajia begged as she followed her out the store.
“No.”
