Everything was flying by so fast. By the time I finished my final exams and finally came up for air, the summer was in full swing. Nana’s play opened to a standing room–only audience in Harlem. Kyle and Daddy had just purchased two buildings on the block behind the church, and though Kyle pretended to be okay, I could tell my words at the park with Julian still bothered him. Tasha and Lionel’s process went perfectly with the first try and Tasha was three weeks pregnant. There was good news for Tamia, too. Professor Banks was able to reopen the case in Los Angeles and the proceedings were beginning in just three weeks. Tasha and I agreed to meet Tamia in L.A. one week after everything started to give her time to feel her way around.
“Let me get a quarter,” I said, holding my hand out to Tamia at the soda machine in front of the law library. She’d asked me to meet her there so I could help her organize some of her paperwork. Professor Banks was giving her a lot of responsibility and Tamia wanted to make sure everything was perfect before she met with the professor to go over everything the next day.
“No,” Tamia replied, smiling. “Aren’t you supposed to be on the Take Her Man diet or something?”
“It’s a damn soda, Mia.” I snatched her purse and pulled out her wallet.
“Feisty, are we?” Tamia stepped back. “I guess things aren’t going so well in ‘man-stealing land.’”
I rolled my eyes at her and pulled a Coke from the machine.
“How’s that going, anyway?” she asked.
I cracked open the soda. I had really been hoping to avoid the topic with Tamia. The truth was, Julian and I had hung out once during finals, but we’d just met up for a cup of coffee by the hospital. It was great seeing him. He walked into the restaurant carrying a huge bouquet of roses, saying it was for me, for all of the mess he was putting me through. I smiled graciously and accepted the flowers, but the truth was, I hated roses and I’d told Julian that on several occasions. In addition to being a complete cliché, they just seemed to die too quickly, no matter how much you tried to take care of them. But it was a start.
“Hello…” Tamia said, pinching my shoulder.
“Ouch,” I yelped.
“Well, I was trying to get your attention. I asked about Julian and the plan. How is it going?”
“Oh yeah,” I managed. “I don’t know, Tamia. I really don’t know. Everything is just so messed up right now. I mean, it seemed so fun at first, but now I just really miss my man. And I wish this was all over.”
“Oh, poor thing.” Tamia rubbed my shoulder. “Well, what about the next step, Darious J? I actually thought that would work.”
“Well, after all of the drama with Kyle in the park, Tasha and I agreed Darious J would just be overkill. If Julian saw me out with two different men, I’d run the risk of—”
“Hoe Status,” Tamia said, finishing my sentence. It was the dreaded category no woman ever wanted a man she even remotely liked to put her into. The idea was, there were three categories men put women in: 1. Wifey Status—someone he could take home to Mama. 2. Friend Status—someone fun he could kick it with. 3. Hoe Status—the sex freak who may have sexed half the people in the city.
“Damn, Troy. That’s a tough break. So no Mr. ‘Put It Down on Me’?” Tamia said, gyrating down to the ground.
“No Mr. ‘Put It Down on Me.’” I shook my head.
“I bought a new memory card for my digital camera for that one. Well, maybe I can get Tasha to hook me up with him now.”
“Tamia!”
“Well, there’s no need for all of us to suffer. I need some loving, too!” Tamia took a sip of my soda. “So what are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. Everything is changing right now and I can’t explain it, you know?” I said. “And sometimes I wonder if all this is worth it. Since I broke up with Julian, things have been different for me. Everything is changing and now I see all the things that were wrong with me. With how I was acting—Julian was right about some of that stuff he said about me. I put everything on our relationship—the vacations, my parents, wanting to get married, all of it. I was so stuck on being Mrs. Julian James, I couldn’t see straight. And now all of that crap that was important to me before just isn’t anymore. Now I just want him back.”
“Why don’t you just tell Julian how you feel then, Troy? Like what’s been going on with you.”
“Yeah, I know. I want to, but then there’s Kyle.”
“Kyle?” Tamia said. “Your friend Kyle?”
“Yeah, we’ve been really close these past couple of weeks.” I tossed my empty soda can into the garbage and smiled, thinking of the look on Kyle’s face when he was standing in the doorway of the studio.
“That’s cool. So what’s the problem? Are you catching feelings for him or something?”
“No, I’m not catching feelings. I just don’t want to hurt him.”
“Look, Troy. If you and Kyle are friends and you want to be with Julian, Kyle needs to understand that,” Tamia said, walking ahead of me into the library. “That’s it. There ain’t no ifs, ands, or buts about it. You can’t be worried about hurting his feelings. If he’s a real friend, he’ll stick around whether you’re with Julian or not.”
“I know. I just hope he doesn’t take all of this too personally,” I mumbled.
“Troy, just be honest with Kyle about your feelings for him,” Tamia said sincerely. “And be honest with yourself.” When we were halfway across the lobby on our way into the library, Tamia just stopped walking dead in her tracks.
I turned to her, thinking she was playing, but her face was turning red and she was heaving.
“Tamia, you okay?” I asked.
“Just…just a pain,” she struggled.
“Excuse me,” I shouted toward the help desk.
“No, don’t get anyone,” she said. She wiped her forehead. “I’m fine.” She took a deep breath and smiled.
“What?” I was confused.
“That was nothing. I’m fine. I just had a little chest pain.” She walked over to the elevator and pressed the button.
“Don’t play with me,” I said, stepping in front of her. “That was not nothing. Something is wrong with you. Are you still taking those fucking pills?”
“No, I stopped,” Tamia said. I looked at her. “I swear I stopped, T.” I looked harder. “I swear, T. It was nothing. I just had a pain. I was short of breath. Maybe I was working out too hard at the gym this morning. I have been doing chest exercises.”
The elevator came and we stepped inside with a small group of people. I looked at Tamia. I couldn’t not believe what she was saying. If she said she’d stopped taking the pills, she wasn’t lying. But she did scare me.
We got off of the elevator in the basement of the library and headed toward the section where Tamia usually studied. She opened her bag and pulled out pile after pile of papers. I watched her, trying to judge if she was really okay.
“Okay, let’s get started,” she said, taking a seat next to the chair where I was standing. She looked up at me still standing. “Well, sit down, Troy,” she said.
“I will…” I looked around the stacks. “But before I sit in this seat, I need you to promise me one thing.”
“I stopped taking the pills, T,” she said, annoyed.
“No, that’s not it. I just want you to tell me this is not where you had sex with that white boy.”
“Oh, sit down, silly.” Tamia pulled out the chair.
After Tamia and I finished up at the library, we headed out to eat dinner at a cute Indian restaurant on St. Mark’s we’d discovered one day after school. Walking into the East Village tuckaway, we were hypnotized by the scent of Indian curry and jasmine incense. We sat at the bar sipping on Indian wine and chatting about our plans for Los Angeles. I was so happy I’d agreed to go away with my girls. I really needed a break from the city and myself.
After eating enough food to feed an entire family on Thanksgiving, Tamia and I went over our plan to reconnect Tasha with her mother in L.A. Tamia had contacted Porsche through the television network two weeks before our trip. Tamia said Porsche was really excited about the new baby and couldn’t wait to see Tasha. She kept Tamia on the phone for over an hour, telling her how much she missed Tasha and wanted to be in her life.
Before they got off the phone, Tamia and Porsche agreed to meet at the hotel where we were staying in West Hollywood. Porsche explained that she’d just won her third daytime Emmy and the media was dying to get anything on her. The idea was to keep it as low-key as possible so Tasha wouldn’t feel any pressure and bolt.
“Sounds great,” I said to Tamia after hearing her plan. I did feel a twinge of guilt for deceiving Tasha, but in the end, as Tamia said, it was for her own good. Tasha had to face her past. But even if I did disagree with the plan, slumped over in my chair, so full I was about to burst, I didn’t have the strength to argue.
Get In Where You Fit In: Female Categories
From the caste system in India to the political parties in the United States, groups make the world go ’round. Whether you’re in or out, up or down, hot or not, one thing’s for sure—you belong to a group. Black or white, Christian or atheist, fat or skinny, you’re surrounded by groups. Perhaps the guiltiest culprits in the grouping game, especially when it comes to the women they date, are men. Like it or not, it’s true. Every man you’ve ever dated put you in a category of some kind. And the worst thing you could do is not know which category you belong to. Read these categories closely and decide which one your guy has you in. It might be a life-changing realization.
1. Wifey Status: The belle of the ball, the grand finale, the queen bee. This is the woman he could see himself settling down with. He treats her like gold and shares his dreams with her. Signs It Might Be You: He can’t stand the idea of you being with other men, always tries to impress you and take you to nice places, takes you to meet his mama, has a picture of you on display at his place, asks your future plans, wants to take you on vacation, wants to take you to church, always wants to know where you’re going, buys you jewelry on holidays, and…he asks you to marry him.
2. Friend Status: R. Kelly called her the “Homie Lover Friend.” This gal pal hangs with him so much people think they’re brother and sister. She’s the girl next door who’s so cool he simply adores her. He’ll do pretty much anything for her. Signs It Might Be You: He always says how “cool” you are, takes you places with groups of his friends, never dresses up or wears cologne when you two hang out, tells you all of his problems—including those with other women, and asks about your dates.
3. Hoe Status: The sex is great, but the company may not be. She’s not his dream girl, but he spends a lot of time sleeping with her. This is his secret friend no one seems to know about. What you do at your hoe’s house stays at your hoe’s house. Signs It Might Be You: He seldom takes you out places people really frequent, never wants to see you during the day, won’t introduce you to any of his friends, disappears on holidays, always breaks promises, seldom answers your calls, and turns his cell phone ringer off when he’s at your place.
Warning: Men are creatures of habit; therefore, though you can easily change your category from good (Wifey Status) to bad (Hoe Status) by, say, sleeping with his cousin, changing your category from bad (Hoe Status) to good (Wifey Status) is next to impossible.