CHAPTER 15
Halfway into third-period English, Persia found that she could barely keep her eyes open. The combination of the joint she’d smoked with Ty before school and burning the midnight oil until the wee hours had her feeling like a zombie. She had stayed on the phone talking to Chucky until almost five a.m. and had to be up for school by six a.m. She could almost feel the bags swelling under her eyes, but they were worth it.
She had initially only planned on talking to him for a few minutes, if that, but she found Chucky to be an interesting character to say the least. He was witty and flattering, hardly what she expected from a street dude. Chucky told her about his life growing up in the hood with no father, and an on-again off-again addict for a mother. He also told Persia how both his bothers had been murdered when he was very young. From the pain in his voice she could tell that it hurt him to talk about it. Chucky opening up like that to her made Persia want to do the same, so she opened up to him about a few things in her life, including her father and seeing a man murdered when she was five years old. It was the first time she had talked to anyone other than her therapist and her mother about it and sharing it with Chucky made her feel like some of the weight she had been carrying was being lifted. She hadn’t intended to tell him so much so soon, but Chucky was very easy to talk to. By the time they got done talking, Persia felt like she had known Chucky for years and the birds were chirping outside her window. He promised to call her after school that day, and Persia couldn’t help but find herself watching the clock in anticipation.
Talking to Chucky helped Persia take her mind off the nasty argument she’d had with her mother. They had disagreements before, but not to that magnitude. When Persia came down for breakfast that morning, the tension was so thick in the kitchen that you could cut it with a knife. Richard sat in his usual spot, at the table on his laptop, sipping coffee and trying his best to remain invisible. Michelle stood over the sink washing dishes. She didn’t even acknowledge Persia other than a halfhearted, “Good morning.” She knew she had hurt her mother and wanted to apologize, but felt like it was too soon. She decided that when she got out of school she would talk to her mother and try to make things right.
“Am I keeping you from some other pressing appointment, Ms. Chandler?” Mr. Ages asked. He was giving her the look from over the rim of his glasses. “You’ve been staring at that clock as if you have somewhere else to be.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Ages,” Persia said.
“Sorry isn’t going to get you a passing grade in my class, Ms. Chandler.” Mr. Ages said her last name in a drawn-out tone. He was about to turn and walk away when his nose twitched. He sniffed the air around Persia. “Ms. Chandler, have you been smoking marijuana?”
All eyes in the class turned to Persia. “Um, no, sir. Some girls were smoking cigarettes in the bathroom and the smell must’ve gotten in my hair,” she lied.
“A likely story. I’ll be watching you, Ms. Chandler. With your father being such a highly respected history professor at NYU, I don’t think he’d take kindly to hearing that you’ve fallen in with the slackers,” Mr. Ages told her before turning on his heels and walking back to the front of the class.
“Stepfather,” Persia mumbled.
Time ticked by at a snail’s pace, but finally the end of the period came. Persia was starving and couldn’t wait to hook up with her girls and get something to eat from the cafeteria. She saw Karen, Meeka, and Ty lingering outside the door of the classroom, waiting for her, and she motioned to them that she’d be along in a second. Scooping her books hastily into her bag, she headed for the door and had almost made it before Mr. Ages stopped her.
“A word please, Ms. Chandler.” He was looking at her over his glasses again.
Persia looked from her friends, who were waving for her to hurry, to the waiting teacher, wondering what he wanted with her. “What’s up?” She approached his desk.
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out, Ms. Chandler,” Mr. Ages said while shuffling some papers on his desk. “I imagine making the transition from an institution like St. Mary’s to public school has been quite an experience. How’re you adjusting?”
Persia shrugged. “Fine, I guess. It was a little different in the beginning, but I’m getting into the swing of how things work around here.”
“So I’ve noticed, and it’s part of the reason I asked to speak to you,” Mr. Ages said. “Persia, I know how it can be when you’re the new kid in school. Sometimes you find yourself doing things you wouldn’t normally do, because you want to fit in. I get it, but don’t let new people, places, and things change your priorities.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Persia asked.
“What it means is you’re not like your little friends.” He nodded to the doorway, where Ty had her nose pressed against the glass, making funny faces. “Karen only comes to school half of the time, Ty is a lost cause, and Meeka has been here almost as long as I have. There’s actually a pool going on in the teacher’s lounge as to how many of them will actually finish high school. You”—he jabbed his finger at her—“have the potential to not only finish high school, but go on to college and be successful in the world, but you have to apply yourself.”
“Mr. Ages, I do apply myself,” Persia said.
“So you call coming to my class high out of your skull applying yourself?” Mr. Ages asked. Persia looked surprised. “Don’t give me that look, Persia. I used to smoke a little pot in my day, so I know the signs. The difference is, I wouldn’t have dared come to school high. I understood the importance of education and put that before my vices.”
“I apologize, Mr. Ages. It won’t happen again,” Persia said.
“Let’s hope not, Ms. Chandler. I don’t think your parents would appreciate hearing that you’ve been getting high before school. I’d hate to have to call them, but I will if you don’t pull it together.”
“I promise, Mr. Ages. No more weed for me,” she lied. Persia had no intention of giving up weed. She’d just be sure not to smoke before school anymore. “Can I go now?”
“Yes, Ms. Chandler. You can go, and please tell your friend Meeka if she’s going to cut my class, at least be smart enough not to loiter outside the door where I can see her. Damn slackers,” Mr. Ages grumbled and went back to shuffling his papers.
“What did old sour puss want?” Ty asked when Persia finally came out of the classroom.
“Nothing, he was on my back for being high in class,” Persia told her.
“His old ass needs to get some pussy in his life so he can stop being so fucking mean all the time. I hate that nigga,” Meeka said.
“I think the feeling is mutual,” Persia half joked. “Let’s go get something to eat. I’m hungry, tired, and ready for this day to be over. I been up almost all night and just wanna go home and take a nap.”
“What were you doing all night that kept you up?” Karen asked suspiciously.
“Nothing, just talking to my cousin from down South on the phone. She’s always got some drama going on,” Persia lied.
“I thought you might’ve been getting your back dug out.” Ty laughed.
“Unlike you, I don’t have sex on the brain twenty-four-seven, but I get mine when necessary,” Persia shot back.
“Or give it.” Karen snickered.
“Very funny, bitch,” Persia said, picking up on the dig Karen was taking at her. She had made the mistake of confiding in Karen how she had recently tried oral sex with the boy who lived next door and found that she liked giving head. It was the first time she had ever gotten off without being penetrated. She wasn’t ashamed at sucking dick, but she didn’t like how Karen tried to put it out there.
“Y’all chicks knock it off, and let’s make a move. I heard it’s a hookie party in the Bronx that’s supposed to be off the hook,” Meeka said.
“Who’s throwing it?” Persia asked. She really couldn’t afford to miss two days of school in a row, but if the rewards justified the risks she might entertain it.
“That kid Nitty and some of his peoples,” Meeka told her.
“Nitty from sixth-period math? Nah, I’m gonna pass on that,” Persia said.
“Stop acting like that, Persia. I heard they got all kind of liquor and weed at the spot. Let’s go get right,” Meeka tried to convince her.
“Girl, please, knowing those lames we’ll probably end up drinking forty-ounces and smoking ditch weed. Holla at me when a real nigga is having a party,” Persia said.
“Listen to this one here.” Karen looked Persia up and down. “We’ve drank plenty of forty ounces and smoked dirt when we didn’t have it, so why you acting like you’re above that now?”
“Because I’m trying to prioritize, Karen. I missed the whole day yesterday and if I’m gonna cut out early today, it’s gotta be for better reason that to smoke headache weed and have some thirsty-ass dudes cracking on me for the pussy all day,” Persia told her.
“Listen to Miss High and Mighty. You get a little bit of attention from a dude who’s handling and now everybody else is beneath you,” Karen accused.
“I’m not saying it like that and you know it, Karen. All I’m saying is that I missed a day coming to hang out with you guys yesterday and I don’t wanna miss another one unless it’s worth it.”
“Didn’t nobody twist your arm and make you come uptown, Persia. Don’t try to put that bullshit off on us,” Karen said with an attitude.
“Karen, I never said you guys made me do anything, so I don’t know where that’s coming from. You need to slow down.” Persia matched her tone.
“Persia, you know a party ain’t a party unless our whole clique is there. Just think about it,” Ty said.
“Don’t beg her. If Princess P wants to stay her square ass in school then let her. We don’t need her to have a good time. We’ve been doing this since long before she started slumming with us,” Karen said, rolling her eyes.
“Karen, you’ve been acting real shitty since yesterday. What the hell is your problem?” Persia asked. Karen had been giving her major attitude since the day before and Persia was getting tired of it.
“My problem is phony-ass broads who only fuck with us when they feel like it. Only loyal bitches run with this crew.”
“Oh, so now I’m not loyal to the crew because I don’t wanna cut school to run the streets? You sound silly,” Persia told her.
“Not as silly as you looked when your thirsty ass was all on Chucky’s dick yesterday,” Karen spat.
“Now I get it. You’re acting funny toward me over some dick that doesn’t belong to either one of us? I thought we were better than that,” Persia said in a disappointed tone.
“Nah, we ain’t better than that, but you think you’re better than us. Everybody has noticed it, Persia. You come around trying to walk like us, talk like us, and act like us, but you ain’t really like us. When you’re done getting your kicks in the ghetto you go back to the suburbs and sit around the dinner table with your nice family, talking about how fucked up it is for us in the slums,” Karen said venomously.
The statement hit Persia like a slap. “That’s not true and you know it. I’m from the same place y’all are from. It’s not my fault that my family moved away because they wanted better for us.”
“See, it’s just like I said. She thinks she’s better than us,” Karen told Meeka and Ty, trying to get them riled up.
“Karen, you’re trying to twist my words,” Persia said.
“I ain’t gotta twist nothing, Persia, because it’s all out there for everybody to see. You ain’t from what we’re from and the only reason that the hood shows you love is on the strength that you hang with us. You’re wearing a mask and it’s time that you took it off,” Karen told her.
“Karen, you’re going too far,” Ty said.
Karen turned on her. “You siding with this bitch over me?”
“I’m not siding with anybody, Karen. I’m just saying we shouldn’t be arguing among each other. We’re supposed to be a crew,” Ty told her. She was the most non-confrontational of them and was trying to keep the peace.
“Crew my ass. Had it been you or Meeka neither of you would’ve been trying to throw the pussy at Chucky knowing we had history.”
Persia had to laugh to keep from crying. She was hurt, but wouldn’t give Karen the satisfaction of showing it. Instead she struck back. “Spoken like a true washed-up bitch. You know, I wasn’t gonna give Chucky any pussy at first, but I think I just might. I gotta know what it is he’s working with that got you out here playing yourself.”
Karen’s eyes flashed rage and she lunged for Persia. Had it not been for Meeka and Ty, she would’ve whipped Persia’s ass in that hallway. “I’m gonna knock your head off, you bourgeois ho!”
“Better a bourgeois ho than a broke ho. When I suck Chucky’s dick tonight, I’ll ask him which one of us does it better,” Persia spat and walked away. Karen hurled insults and threats at her the whole time, but Persia just kept it moving, with her head held high. It wasn’t until she was alone in the stairwell that the tears she had been holding back came. In less than twenty-four hours she had been hurt by two people she cared about and it dug into her chest like a knife. She knew that she was too emotional to finish out the school day, so she decided to cut the day short after all. The question was, where was she going to go? It was too early in the day for her to go home and have to explain why she wasn’t in school in the middle of the day, and she didn’t have any money so wandering the streets aimlessly was out of the question. She needed somewhere to clear her head, and get a meal and a blunt, in no particular order, and had an idea where she could get all three.