Love Me or Miss Me Read online

  Tisha had my whole card, and she was far from impressed. Even when I told her that I quit my gang—on my own—all she said was, “What do you want, a medal? I expect so much more. I see something in you.”

  Wow, I thought, Mrs. Lawrence said the same thing.

  In our next meeting, Tisha harassed me about my falling grades. She knew I didn’t belong in sixth grade Special Ed, and so did I. So she warned that I needed to “get my grades up,” or else she’d really “push my wig back.” Tisha was still talking my language and joking with me, so I was all ears. Unlike other social workers I’ve had, she wasn’t yelling at me (like Mrs. Lawrence), or looking down on me (like a whole lot of other people), and I really appreciated that.

  On our third visit, Tisha gave me my first good-bye hug, and her personal cell number. She said I was her favorite girl, and I was going to keep things that way. So, yeah, Lynn could threaten to call Tisha until her light-skinned face turned blue. No biggie. No problem. She could dial Tisha until her freaking fingers fell off.

  * * *

  It was too early to go to sleep, but I was too pissed to stay up and think about Lynn. So I got ready for bed. As a rule, I usually keep my bedroom door cracked open. I don’t like being swallowed up in the dark by myself. But tonight, forget about being scared—I was too pissed to be scared. Lynn had overreacted, OD’d on some ill drug, making me pull some dang weeds on Friday. Now my beauty agenda had to be put on hold because of her mess.

  Aggravated beyond words, I shut myself inside my bedroom. But then all of a sudden, knock, knock, knock on my dang door. Before I could say, “Come in,” Lynn pushed open my door, flicked on my light, and walked up to my bed carrying a FedEx envelope. “I forgot to give you this,” she said, wearing an emotionless face. I thanked her, and thanked goodness that she left my room without saying another stupid word.

  I blinked a couple of times to adjust my eyes. Then my eyes lit up when I recognized Felicia’s perfect curvy penmanship on the envelope. Felicia! I ripped open the envelope as if it were a present. Well, this was a present. Hearing from my homegirl was the perfect gift.

  Dear Kate,

  I’ve been thinking about you ever since I got here. I miss you so much!

  (Yeah Felicia, I miss you too … more than you know.)

  You were right about the girls in this group, they really suck. But I’ve been sticking by Sekou and making the best out of the situation.

  (Keep your head up, Felicia.)

  As soon as our plane touched land, I haven’t had a second to think too hard about them anyway. Sekou has been taking us all over the place! Yesterday, we visited Victoria Falls, the largest waterfall in the world! It’s absolutely breathtaking. And the week before, we took a cruise to Seal Island. But we couldn’t stop there because the whole island is overflowing with seals. You wouldn’t believe how many!

  (Wow. Must be amazing.)

  There are mountains on top of mountains in South Africa, and roads carved into the mountains. It’s surreal. It’s also hot as blazes, but the landscape is so beautiful and breathtaking, you hardly notice the heat. Seriously, Kate, this trip would be so much better with you. And I can’t wait for us to travel together. I’m trying to do Paris, Italy, and Spain before we turn eighteen.

  (Yeah, easy for you to say. You keep forgetting our situations are different.)

  Sekou has been working our butts off. We have to study trees, wildlife, like we’re still in school. I don’t mind learning, but dang! Well, I hope you’re keeping yourself busy over there too. Sorry you didn’t get that summer job you wanted at the Brooklyn Museum.

  (Next time I’ll apply earlier.)

  How’s Ted?

  (Cool as always.)

  Is Lynn acting any nicer?

  (Please.)

  Is Charles in town for the summer? Did you marry him yet?

  (No, not married yet—still working on my first kiss.)

  Well, I met this fine African honey named Umar at a ceremonial dance. We hit it off instantly, and we were tonguing down behind a tree before the night was through. But don’t worry, girl, he’s not getting any drawers!!

  (He better not.)

  Did you meet any new friends yet? Don’t have me replaced when I get back.

  (Never that.)

  Girl, let me stop here. I don’t know why I’m asking you all of these silly questions, since you can’t write me back. We’re traveling from village to village, so I don’t have a permanent address. And by the way, I e-mailed you a couple of times from my Treo, but I haven’t heard back. I guess Lynn must be still acting funny with the computer.

  (Yep.)

  Anyway, I hope you like my picture and your birthday present. I know I’m crazy early, but I didn’t want to be late!

  Love ya like a sister,

  Felicia

  (A birthday present? For me?)

  I rechecked the FedEx pack, and sure enough, I found a small golden envelope, and enclosed, Felicia’s picture and a fifty-dollar American Express gift certificate. First of all, Felicia looked gorgeous! I could see the sun had gotten to her. She was standing up against a lone tree, wearing a flowing orange sundress and a white wrap around her head; she looked like an African queen. And, she was throwing money at me like royalty too! Fifty dollars? Whoa. Way too much for me. I appreciated the thought, but my goodness, what was my broke old butt going to do when Felicia’s birthday rolled around?

  Well, I had five more months to worry about that. Besides, there was another issue weighing heavy on my mind. But I’d have to wait until tomorrow to handle that. I was too beat to deal.

  Chapter 6

  Next morning, I dialed up Naleejah. I didn’t care if it was too early. I had to give her a piece of my mind. Just a little piece, though. After all, I knew she didn’t mean to get me into trouble last night. But since she did and my hair plans were ruined, she had to be told about it—in a sweet voice, of course. Call me a chump if you want. But I still needed my hair done, okay?

  Naleejah answered her cell phone sounding groggy and out of it.

  “Hey, girl,” I began, all nice and sugary, “um … just wanted to let you know, please don’t call my house after nine o’clock again.”

  “Why, what happened?” she asked, now wide awake.

  “I got in trouble last night.”

  “Oh my gosh!” Naleejah exclaimed. “It wasn’t even past ten o’clock when I called!”

  “Yeah, well, I got in trouble anyway.”

  “Dang, your mother is mad strict.”

  I didn’t bother to correct her. She’d find out soon enough. Right now, we just needed to get down to business. “Turns out I can’t come over to get my hair done on Friday, so can you—?”

  “Oh my gosh!” interrupted Naleejah. “You got on punishment over a stupid little phone call?”

  “Kind of … I’m stuck doing yard work and laundry on Friday.”

  “All day?”

  “Looks that way.”

  “Dang, that’s messed up.”

  “Yeah, tell me about it,” I said. “So, um, can you do my hair today?”

  “Can’t,” said Naleejah. “Maxwell told me to leave the whole day open for him. He’s supposed to be surprising me with something.”

  From the giggle in her voice, I could tell that something was juicy.

  Still, I was confused. “But I thought Maxwell is just your homeboy. Why are you letting homeboy dictate your whole day?”

  “Maxwell is my homeboy,” said Naleejah. “Haven’t you heard of friends with benefits?”

  “Well, what about Thursday?” I didn’t mean to press, but I have an iron will, and besides, Naleejah still owed me for fighting her fight yesterday.

  “Can’t do it,” said Naleejah. “Maxwell told me to leave both days open. Last week he surprised me with this banging gold link chain, so I’m not trying to be perming your hair when he calls. Shoot, he might have something bigger and better for me! He even mentioned taking me to Atlantic City on the
spur one of these days. Sorry, I just can’t take the risk.”

  “See, that’s messed up—” I began, and then I immediately cut myself off. I don’t like sounding desperate, and that’s where I was headed. I decided to play it off. “I mean … that would be messed up if you missed Maxwell’s call. I hear you, girl.”

  “No doubt,” chirped Naleejah. “When Maxwell says be ready, he means be ready.”

  “Ready at the jump,” I said, hoping she didn’t detect the sarcasm in my voice.

  “Maxwell’s more than worth it,” added Naleejah. “He’s got way more cheddar than that cheesy chump Finesse.”

  “Mm, I heard that.”

  “I mean … I know I’m just a booty call to Maxwell, but at least we keep it real. I’m not his only one, and he thinks he’s my only one. He gets his. I get mine. Works out just fine. And if Maxwell ever wants to take things to the next level—hey, I’m totally with that, okay?”

  “Okay.” That’s all I could say. I was glad this chat was taking place over the telephone and not in the flesh. This way, Naleejah couldn’t see me frowning. It makes me sad to hear a girl planning her life around a dude just because he says so. Nothing wrong with allocating time for your honey, but don’t let a dude control your entire life schedule.

  Well … yeah, I can admit it. A part of me was tripping for selfish reasons (my hair), but the other part really doesn’t like to see a girl play herself. Trust, I can tell you so many stories about the dog in some boys (some boys, not all boys, though it seems like all boys). Yeah, let some boy think he’s got you on lockdown, and next thing you know: Woof! Woof! Here he comes barking orders at you. Now you’re on lockdown, waiting by the phone like a jailbird; meanwhile homeboy is busy on the prowl for the next chick. I’ve watched so many older group homegirls go through it, watched so many younger chicks clucking in the same direction. And that’s why I got news for any controlling dude who comes my way. Money or not: I am not the one.

  But in other news, my hair plans were starting to look hopeless. I heaved a dramatic sigh and said, “Listen, I guess we can do this some other time.”

  “Wait!” Naleejah exclaimed. “I can perm your hair on Saturday.”

  “Can you do it early in the morning?”

  “How early?”

  “Is ten o’clock okay?”

  “Dang, why so early?”

  “I have to be somewhere afterwards,” I blurted out. I didn’t want to go into details about my sweet little rendezvous with Charles. I didn’t want my flirty little friend souring up my game plan.

  Naleejah huffed in my ear. “Okay, since you’re my girl, I’ll wake up early for you. See you on Saturday.”

  “I appreciate it.”

  Click.

  Mission #1: Accomplished.

  Mission #2: Run to the library and check for e-mails from Felicia.

  I quickly got dressed and headed for the Macon Library.

  * * *

  To my disappointment, the library was already crowded with other kids. And there was a long irritating wait for a free computer. I grumbled at Lynn for being so stingy with hers. When my turn finally came, I leaped into my seat, swiped my library card to sign in, and logged on to Yahoo.com. Then I sat staring blankly at the screen for five whole minutes. I couldn’t remember my username or password for nothing in the world. Back in June, my old e-mail address had gotten spammed, so I created a whole new address. But I didn’t bother to enter my correct name and birthday, so now I had no way of retrieving my information.

  Kate@yahoo?

  I had no freaking clue.

  I had planned to write a whole novel to Felicia.

  Oh well: The End.

  So I decided to Google images of South Africa and beyond. I thought it would be fun to imagine where my girl was at, and pretend I was right there with her. The first image I searched was “Victoria Falls.” The instant I clicked on the image of the falls, my face fell flat. Just as Felicia had claimed, the falls were absolutely breathtaking. I stared in awe at the powerful surges of water cascading down massive green mountains, the downward force of the water so powerful that the mist looked like smoke rising up to the royal blue sky. From this mist, I could make out a rainbow, the colors yellow, red, and violet jumping out at me. To think that I could’ve witnessed this awe-inspiring sight in person instead of at the local library … to think that I had let some petty little females keep me from this once-in-a-lifetime experience was enough to drive me mad. Although Felicia had admitted in her letter that I was right about those girls, the fact remained, Felicia was there feeling South Africa, and I was sitting here, staring at a dusty computer screen.

  My South African adventure began (and ended) back in March, on a Saturday afternoon right after orientation. Orientation had taken place inside of a big redbrick church on Fulton Street. Sekou, the group leader, led the discussion by giving out pamphlets and photos from his last trip. Throughout the entire two hours, he used his hands, spreading them wide to describe the landscape, and he kept popping open his eyes to express all of the amazing things we would see: wild lions and hippos and zebras—oh my! Felicia and I were bursting with excitement, especially me. While Felicia has been out of the country before, I barely got the chance to leave Brooklyn.

  Besides, with me being a straight-A student and “disadvantaged,” I’d be eligible to go on the trip for free. Yes, free. Tisha was the one who told me about the program, and I had planned to thank her a million times when I saw her.

  But my plans quickly changed.

  Felicia and I were standing outside of the church, talking giddily about the trip, when it all went down.

  “I can’t wait to go on the elephant-back safari,” Felicia exclaimed.

  “Well, I don’t know about that,” I said. “Promise not to laugh?”

  “What? You can trust me.”

  “I’m deathly afraid of elephants … can’t even picture myself riding on some elephant’s back. Not!”

  “Girl, it’s all in your mind,” said Felicia. “And you know I got your back.”

  “Well … I’ll take the ride, only because it’s with you.”

  “Now, that’s what I’m talking about!”

  I flipped through the pamphlet. “But see, the hot-air ballooning sounds cool. I’m amped about that.”

  “Listen, I’m amped about everything!” said Felicia.

  Suddenly, in the middle of our conversation, here comes three of the girls from orientation, stepping to me, all wearing scowls. The shortest out the group moved forward. All throughout our session, I had noticed this shorty eyeballing me, but I had made a special effort to pay her no mind. And even when this silly broad leaned over to whisper something to her friends and then jerked her chin in my direction, I still tried to stay focused. Kept my eyes on Sekou.

  But my focus began to waver when Sekou mentioned that we’d need plenty spending money because there’d be so much jewelry and souvenirs to choose from. When I asked, “how much” spending money, I heard Shorty snicker. All ten of us had been sitting in a circle, so it was easy for me to see and hear every dumb thing this broad did—easy for me to see, but hard for me to understand. The girl was far from gangster, too thin and frail to even think about testing me, yet here she was, itching for me to scratch back?

  Like I told you before, I don’t scratch. I punch. So when Shorty stepped to me outside, I was leaning up against the church’s gate, gripping the bars behind me to keep from swinging on her.

  “Wow, I’m surprised to see you here,” Shorty said, looking down her nose at me. Sekou was standing five feet away from us, talking to the other kids, so maybe that’s why this chick felt safe getting in my face.

  “Do I know you from somewhere? I’m Kate, and you are?”

  “Gwen … Weren’t you listening to the introductions in there?” she asked in a condescending tone. “Anyway, you attended P.S. 342, correct?”

  “Yeah, and?”

  “Well, I guess you don’t remember
me,” Gwen said. “I used to go there too. You beat up my friend back in the sixth grade. I’m the one who had to take her to the nurse.”

  Small world when you don’t want it to be.

  Gwen pointed to the mousy girl standing behind her. “Here she is. Remember her?”

  I didn’t recognize this girl at all. So many fights. So many faces.

  I tried to make eye contact with Mousy to say sorry—if that’s what this was all about. But Mousy was busy staring at the sidewalk.

  I looked over at Felicia for answers. She shrugged. So we were both confused. Was this supposed to be a confrontation? I wasn’t being threatened, but I felt threatened. Not physically. Gwen was messing with my mental.

  I craned my neck to make eye contact with Mousy again and said, “Listen, I’m really sorry I fought with you … but that was two years ago. People change.”

  I used to like having girls scared of me. Made me feel powerful. But right now, I felt weak, wishing this girl would get out of my face so I could keep my cool and stay on the right track.

  “Yeah, we ended up changing schools because of girls like you,” Gwen cut in, and then she started laughing in a high-pitched cackle. Mousy and her other friend tittered behind her. When Gwen’s laughter finally died down, she said, “Thank goodness for private school.”

  In disbelief, I looked over at Felicia, who motioned for me to come on. Just as I started walking away, I overheard Gwen say, “If she’s coming on this trip, I hope they give her a clothing stipend.”

  That’s when I lost it. Snapped into action. I was up in Gwen’s face in under sixty seconds. “I heard what you just said,” I spat. “Now say it to my face. Go ’head, say it.”

  Felicia ran up to me and started pulling at my arm. “Kate, let’s go,” she pleaded.

  I yanked my arm away from Felicia and started putting my hands in Gwen’s face. “You got all that mouth!” I shouted. “Now let’s see you do something … worried about my gear, for what? You ain’t my mother!”

  Sekou came running up to us. He pushed me away from Gwen before I wrecked her world.