Items related to Divas Don't Yield: A Novel (Many Cultures, One...
What starts out as a pilgrimage to a women’s conference turns into an unexpected journey toward self-awareness for four dynamic, sexy women. Jackie confronts her vulnerability as she falls for a handsome lawyer, while Hazel makes the toughest confession of her life. Lourdes stands up to her conservative mother, and Irena faces her demons. As they make their way from town to town, laughing, fighting, crying, and bonding, they learn more about one another, and themselves, than they ever bargained for–and turn plenty of heads along the way. . . .
"synopsis" may belong to another edition of this title.
About the Author:
Sofia Quintero is a writer, activist, educator, speaker, and comedienne. She is also the author of Efrain's Secret and has written several hip-hop novels under the pen name Black Artemis. This self-proclaimed "Ivy League homegirl" graduated from Columbia University and lives in the Bronx.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.:
TO: Hazel1983@hotmail.com, LuLuLinda@aol.com, DreaminginCuban@juno.com
FROM: imokurnot@yahoo.com
DATE: May 30, 2006 11:27 PM
SUBJECT: Cali Here We Come!
OK, gals, while procrastinating on my thesis, I banged out a potential itinerary. If we each drive at least two hours every day, we should get to Frisco in time for the opening ceremony on Thursday the 22nd. Here’s how I think we should ride:
9AM—12PM:Me
12PM—1PM:Lunch
1PM—4PM:Hazel
4PM—6PM:Lourdes
6PM—8PM:Irena
8PM—???:Dinner and all the fun we can stand and still hit the road by 9 AM SHARP the next morning.
If we keep to this driving schedule, we’ll spend the night in the following cities:
17th—Cleveland (I know this means missing the Emergency Brides’ March, Irena, but we really need the extra day.)
18th—Chicago
19th—Des Moines or Omaha—I don’t care either way. Omaha’s another two hours west though and might be a better option, especially since the drive between Chicago and Des Moines is seven hours. Let’s do as much as we can each day. Mush!
20th—Cheyenne? Denver? Someplace else?—Still trying to figure this out. On the one hand, I thought Lourdes would want to drop in on her family. But the truth is it’s going to be really tough to make it there because there’s almost 700 miles between Denver and Des Moines (or Omaha).
21st—Salt Lake City—I’m maaad curious, aren’t you?
22nd—San Francisco!
I suggest we stay in the same cities on the way back. Not just because this damned thesis is kicking my ass, and I don’t have a lot of time to figure a completely different itinerary for the way home either. I’m just thinking that while going west, there’s bound to be things that we’re going to want to check out but won’t have time to. So I say we hit the same cities again on the way home so we can do the things we couldn’t on the way to Frisco.
Everybody, give an update on your tasks so we can see where we are before we meet on Friday. Haze and I aren’t going to have a lot of time, since we have to leave no later than a quarter to one for our graduation rehearsal. So let’s use lunch to iron out any last-minute details.
Peace,
Jackie
P.S. Anyone want a hundred bucks to finish this stupid paper for me?
TO: imokurnot@yahoo.com, LuLuLinda@aol.com, Hazel1983@hotmail.com,
FROM: DreaminginCuban@juno.com
DATE: May 31, 2006 7:38 AM
SUBJECT: Re: Cali Here We Come!
Goddesses,
I’m so excited!
Jackie, I’m cool with the itinerary. Just one thing though . . . can someone switch with me? Since I don’t drive a lot, I’d be a lot more comfortable if I didn’t drive at night. But if no one else wants to do it, that’s TOTALLY OK! It’s summertime so maybe it won’t be that dark when I start driving, right?
As your self-designated community builder, conflict mediator, and spiritual healer, I came up with a few ideas. First, I bought a notebook so we can collectively document our journey. Like a scrapbook or journal. I have supplies, but feel free to bring whatever you need to express yourself. No rules other than please make a good faith effort to contribute to it.
Remember to bring an item to offer as a gift to your sisters for our embarking ritual. Don’t buy anything (I mean it, Lourdes!). It should be something that represents you and is small enough to fit into the box.
Oh, and please bring with you two or three questions that you want the others to answer. Put each question on an index card, and we’ll place it in the box. Some questions should be fun, some serious, etc. But the answers should give us insight into each other. Things like, “What would you do if you hit the lottery tomorrow?” or “If you were an animal, what kind would you be?” Then we’ll write the answers in the journal. Or we can talk about it along the way. The possibilities are endless.
What’d you guys do over the holiday weekend? Dad took me to the Jersey Shore. I just sat on the beach and worked on The Tarot According to You. For each card, you record the personal experiences that come to mind and then compare it to the card’s traditional interpretation so that you do more relevant and meaningful readings. It’s soooo insightful! Oh, and I finally caught up on all the episodes of Starting Over that Lourdes taped for me (thank you!!!!!). Jackie, how was the camping trip?
Blessings,
Irena
Life is nothing but a dream, and if you create your life with love, your dream becomes a masterpiece of art. —Don Miguel Ruiz
TO: imokurnot@yahoo.com, LuLuLinda@aol.com, DreaminginCuban@juno.com
FROM: Hazel1983@hotmail.com
DATE: May 31, 2006 9:41 AM
SUBJECT: Re: re: Cali Here We Come!
ATTACHMENT: Gamba Adisa Playlist.doc
Irena, love your ideas and you can switch with me (and bring that tarot workbook on the trip). But why are we on the road so late anyway? We should have dinner earlier and call it a night. Party or just chill. When else are we going to have the chance to sample Iowa nightlife? RandMcNally.com says there’s going to be a big carnival when we pass through there that we can check out.
As for en route entertainment, I attached the playlist. Anything in bold is something I don’t have, so if you own it, bring it to lunch on Friday. And if you asked for something that’s not on there, it’s because someone made a point to say that they didn’t want it. (Sorry, Jackie, just about every Snoop Dogg song you wanted qualifies as a narcocorrido, and Lourdes isn’t trying to hear that stuff.)
I went to visit my father and grandmother. On Saturday Dad gave me a letter and made me promise to wait until the ride home to read it. It was so beautiful, people on the bus must’ve thought I was crazy, the way I was going back and forth between sobbing and laughing. Then on Sunday I went to St. Raymond’s to put fresh flowers at my abuelita’s grave. Monday was quiet and uneventful, which is just what I needed. Yes, Ruby was away at God knows where.
My ten o’clock’s early so I gotta go. Jackie, I’ll finish your thesis if you come over here and do this woman’s extensions. She wants to look like Alicia Keys when she has less fuzz than a tennis ball.
CHF
Your Cruise (Control) Director
TO: Hazel1983@hotmail.com, DreaminginCuban@juno.com, imokurnot@yahoo.com
FROM: LuLuLinda@aol.com
DATE: May 31, 2006 5:13 PM
SUBJECT: Re: re: re: Cali Here We Come!
Chicas,
I’m so sorry I’m only writing now. As I was driving back from taking some photographs in Jackson Heights, I got into a tiny accident with a taxi. No se apuren! I’m perfectly fine. My SUV’s another story. W Just pray I can get it fixed by Saturday.
Anyway, I agree with Hazel re: the schedule. Another thing . . . shouldn’t we avoid driving during rush hour? IMHO, we should be more flexible in the schedule not only to allow for FUN but for delays, too. Que piensan?
Hazel, can you resend me the playlist in RTF? My Mac couldn’t open it. Oh, and when we go shopping for your graduation dress tomorrow, bring the CDs and I’ll upload them to my iPod.
If Denver’s out of the way, por favor, no se preocupen. I’m going home in August anyway. Besides I think my mother’s going to be at a technology conference that week, and my brother’s away at camp.
Jackie, what’s this about Snoop Dogg? L No me dejen ser la unica en el viaje que no fuma! I pray the police don’t stop us.
This weekend I took myself on a photography excursion to Jackson Heights, East Harlem, and Sunset Park since those are the neighborhoods with many Mexican immigrants. Except for my tiny accident, I had a fantastic weekend!
Un abrazo fuerte a todas,
Lourdes
TO: Hazel1983@hotmail.com, LuLuLinda@aol.com, DreaminginCuban@juno.com
FROM: imokurnot@yahoo.com
DATE: May 31, 2006 10:14 PM
SUBJECT: Re: re: re: re: Cali Here We Come!
A “tiny” accident put your SUV out of commission??? I’m glad you’re OK, pero tu eres loca. Y una princesa tambien, driving to school when you’re only two train stops away. BTW, you have to come to Soundview where Hazel and I grew up in the Bronx. I dropped in on my pops, and your people are everywhere, LOL!
Anyway, I really hope you can fix the SUV, but I’ll see if Raul can hook us up with a backup ride. Just know it might be a rickshaw or go-cart or something like that so I’d hold off on firing up the iPod. Instead get some rest then focus on collecting the common necessities we all need so we don’t have four irons, hair dryers, etc.
And don’t worry. The po won’t be able to catch me let alone stop me! Seriously, if we should get pulled over, I say we just give up the potheads and keep it movin’. Que piensas tu?
If we can make it to Denver, can we crash at your house, Lou? It’d save us some money and be a nice break from all the motels. No pressure. It’s your house, your family won’t be there, etc. Like I said, Denver’s an unlikely stop anyway, but . . .
To accommodate you freakin’ party animals, I made changes to the schedule:
9AM—11AM:Me
11AM—1PM:Lunch & Sightseeing
1PM—3PM:Irena
3PM—5PM:Lourdes
5PM—7PM:Hazel
7PM—???:PAR-TAY (and maybe a liquid supper)
Irena, can we do your ritual thing on the road instead of on the morning before we leave? Is your pops going to hook us up with some food? You haven’t gotten back to us about that yet. He knows you’re going, right?
Wil and I had a blast this weekend. For a moment there though, I panicked because we got off the Metro-North in the middle of nowhere, and the stop didn’t even have a station—just a rickety bench with a slab of wood that read “Breakneck Ridge.” I kid you not. I said, “Where the hell’s this ridge, Wil? In Bust-Yo’-Ass Forest?” But we camped, hiked, and even went white-water rafting. I’m hooked! That’s our next trip.
Almost done with my thesis. Once it’s done, I’M OUT THIS MUTHA! See y’all at the Olympic Flame on Friday.
Peace,
Jackie
P.S. Hazel, if you take us somewhere we have to line dance or sing karaoke, I will leave your ass on I-80.
JACKIE
1783 Willis Avenue
South Bronx, NY
Thursday, June 1, 10:39 a.m.
I make it halfway down the staircase when Wil calls my name. I hope he’s changed his mind. I rush back to his floor, taking the steps two at a time and getting a kick out of the thump of my boots as they hit the chipped marble.
The man stands in his doorway shirtless, dangling my sling bag from his hand. “You forgot this.” If Wil’s going to tease me like that, he’d better have changed his mind. I once overheard him tell Kharim, “Another cool thing about Jackie is that she never passes up some lovin’ because she’s afraid to sweat out her perm like Miss Sheila.” He has no business parading half-naked around me if he has no intention of giving it up.
I reach for my bag and say, “Irena says when you leave something behind, it’s ’cause you really don’t want to go.” When I lean in to kiss him, Wil slides his fingers up my neck and gently grips my hair. He knows what that does to me! I press against him, trying to ease my way back into his apartment for another round.
But Wil stands firm in the doorway and then pulls back from me. “Since when do you listen to Irena?” He reaches out to straighten the strap of my tank top. Then he spins me around, swats me on the ass, and gently shoves me back toward the staircase. “I’ll see you tonight.”
He ain’t right, grabbing my hair and kissing me like that, and he damn well knows it. “Be that way.” Then I force a smile because the last thing I need to do before leaving for Frisco is to fight with him. As I head down the stairs, I can hear Wil laugh before closing his apartment door.
And to think that if I had taken that capoeira class instead of the LSAT prep course, I never would have met him. With the money I had saved last year by buying used textbooks and packing lunch, I decided to treat myself to a class over the summer. I still like the kickboxing one I take at school, but I needed a new challenge. I always wanted to learn capoeira since it combines so many things I love—martial arts, dance, hip-hop—so I RSVPed for a trial class taught by this kick-ass brasileña I read about in the Village Voice. But while on the subway to Chelsea, I spotted an ad for an LSAT prep course. I thought, Damn, Jackie, that’s what you need to do. You may have excellent grades and respectable extracurricula, but without an LSAT score in the 170s, you can forget about getting into a top law school, let alone getting a scholarship. If I’m going to be the Latina reincarnation of William Kunstler, I can’t afford to rack up a hundred grand in student loans. So I nixed the class to go home and register for the LSAT prep course. And who’s there teaching it but the finest brother I have ever seen.
Jesus, I am starting to think like Irena. For a fleeting second, I almost chalked up meeting Wil to fate. Fate, my black ass. It was justice. For the first time in my twenty-two years on this earth, being the smartest chick in the room—and unapologetic about it—paid off. I’d better watch it or next thing I’ll be reading my horoscope, going to some botánica to have my cards read or some crazy shit like that. Irena would love that!
As much as I like Rena, I’m not going to get caught up in her New Age gaga even though I get why she needs to believe in it. At first, I didn’t understand why she froze during the Take Back the Night speakout two years ago. But when Irena left the podium and told me she had the unshakable feeling that bastard rapist was in the crowd, I said, “Point the animal out, and let’s neuter his ass.” Bet anything that would’ve done a lot more for her “healing process” than this turn-the-other-cheek bullshit.
When I leave the building, I almost trip over a brick-colored Spalding. Just as I pick it up, the little black girl who lives on Wil’s floor comes toward me, dragging a broken broomstick. What’s her name? I only know her as Li’l Bit, which is the nickname Wil gave her.
So I say, “What’s good, Li’l Bit?” I don’t know much about her, but I like her lots, and I’m not a big fan of kids (or they of mine, let me not front). While the other girls on this block sit on the stoop fawning over their Barbie dolls, Li’l Bit’s running the streets like her little ass is on fire.
I hear this ruckus around the corner so I step off the stoop and look up the block. The neighborhood kids are in the midst of a heated game of stickball. I used to love that game and was pretty damned good at it, too. I turn back to Li’l Bit, who’s standing next to me now, staring down at her ashy knees. Used to have those, too. “Why aren’t you playing with them?”
She just shrugs and holds her hand out for the ball. I give it to her and kneel down to tighten the laces on my boots. As I do, I watch Li’l Bit throw the ball against the building wall and swat it with her broomstick. The ball ricochets around the plaza, and I jump up to catch it before it flies in the street. Li’l Bit’s all power, no technique, just like me before my pops gave m...
FROM: imokurnot@yahoo.com
DATE: May 30, 2006 11:27 PM
SUBJECT: Cali Here We Come!
OK, gals, while procrastinating on my thesis, I banged out a potential itinerary. If we each drive at least two hours every day, we should get to Frisco in time for the opening ceremony on Thursday the 22nd. Here’s how I think we should ride:
9AM—12PM:Me
12PM—1PM:Lunch
1PM—4PM:Hazel
4PM—6PM:Lourdes
6PM—8PM:Irena
8PM—???:Dinner and all the fun we can stand and still hit the road by 9 AM SHARP the next morning.
If we keep to this driving schedule, we’ll spend the night in the following cities:
17th—Cleveland (I know this means missing the Emergency Brides’ March, Irena, but we really need the extra day.)
18th—Chicago
19th—Des Moines or Omaha—I don’t care either way. Omaha’s another two hours west though and might be a better option, especially since the drive between Chicago and Des Moines is seven hours. Let’s do as much as we can each day. Mush!
20th—Cheyenne? Denver? Someplace else?—Still trying to figure this out. On the one hand, I thought Lourdes would want to drop in on her family. But the truth is it’s going to be really tough to make it there because there’s almost 700 miles between Denver and Des Moines (or Omaha).
21st—Salt Lake City—I’m maaad curious, aren’t you?
22nd—San Francisco!
I suggest we stay in the same cities on the way back. Not just because this damned thesis is kicking my ass, and I don’t have a lot of time to figure a completely different itinerary for the way home either. I’m just thinking that while going west, there’s bound to be things that we’re going to want to check out but won’t have time to. So I say we hit the same cities again on the way home so we can do the things we couldn’t on the way to Frisco.
Everybody, give an update on your tasks so we can see where we are before we meet on Friday. Haze and I aren’t going to have a lot of time, since we have to leave no later than a quarter to one for our graduation rehearsal. So let’s use lunch to iron out any last-minute details.
Peace,
Jackie
P.S. Anyone want a hundred bucks to finish this stupid paper for me?
TO: imokurnot@yahoo.com, LuLuLinda@aol.com, Hazel1983@hotmail.com,
FROM: DreaminginCuban@juno.com
DATE: May 31, 2006 7:38 AM
SUBJECT: Re: Cali Here We Come!
Goddesses,
I’m so excited!
Jackie, I’m cool with the itinerary. Just one thing though . . . can someone switch with me? Since I don’t drive a lot, I’d be a lot more comfortable if I didn’t drive at night. But if no one else wants to do it, that’s TOTALLY OK! It’s summertime so maybe it won’t be that dark when I start driving, right?
As your self-designated community builder, conflict mediator, and spiritual healer, I came up with a few ideas. First, I bought a notebook so we can collectively document our journey. Like a scrapbook or journal. I have supplies, but feel free to bring whatever you need to express yourself. No rules other than please make a good faith effort to contribute to it.
Remember to bring an item to offer as a gift to your sisters for our embarking ritual. Don’t buy anything (I mean it, Lourdes!). It should be something that represents you and is small enough to fit into the box.
Oh, and please bring with you two or three questions that you want the others to answer. Put each question on an index card, and we’ll place it in the box. Some questions should be fun, some serious, etc. But the answers should give us insight into each other. Things like, “What would you do if you hit the lottery tomorrow?” or “If you were an animal, what kind would you be?” Then we’ll write the answers in the journal. Or we can talk about it along the way. The possibilities are endless.
What’d you guys do over the holiday weekend? Dad took me to the Jersey Shore. I just sat on the beach and worked on The Tarot According to You. For each card, you record the personal experiences that come to mind and then compare it to the card’s traditional interpretation so that you do more relevant and meaningful readings. It’s soooo insightful! Oh, and I finally caught up on all the episodes of Starting Over that Lourdes taped for me (thank you!!!!!). Jackie, how was the camping trip?
Blessings,
Irena
Life is nothing but a dream, and if you create your life with love, your dream becomes a masterpiece of art. —Don Miguel Ruiz
TO: imokurnot@yahoo.com, LuLuLinda@aol.com, DreaminginCuban@juno.com
FROM: Hazel1983@hotmail.com
DATE: May 31, 2006 9:41 AM
SUBJECT: Re: re: Cali Here We Come!
ATTACHMENT: Gamba Adisa Playlist.doc
Irena, love your ideas and you can switch with me (and bring that tarot workbook on the trip). But why are we on the road so late anyway? We should have dinner earlier and call it a night. Party or just chill. When else are we going to have the chance to sample Iowa nightlife? RandMcNally.com says there’s going to be a big carnival when we pass through there that we can check out.
As for en route entertainment, I attached the playlist. Anything in bold is something I don’t have, so if you own it, bring it to lunch on Friday. And if you asked for something that’s not on there, it’s because someone made a point to say that they didn’t want it. (Sorry, Jackie, just about every Snoop Dogg song you wanted qualifies as a narcocorrido, and Lourdes isn’t trying to hear that stuff.)
I went to visit my father and grandmother. On Saturday Dad gave me a letter and made me promise to wait until the ride home to read it. It was so beautiful, people on the bus must’ve thought I was crazy, the way I was going back and forth between sobbing and laughing. Then on Sunday I went to St. Raymond’s to put fresh flowers at my abuelita’s grave. Monday was quiet and uneventful, which is just what I needed. Yes, Ruby was away at God knows where.
My ten o’clock’s early so I gotta go. Jackie, I’ll finish your thesis if you come over here and do this woman’s extensions. She wants to look like Alicia Keys when she has less fuzz than a tennis ball.
CHF
Your Cruise (Control) Director
TO: Hazel1983@hotmail.com, DreaminginCuban@juno.com, imokurnot@yahoo.com
FROM: LuLuLinda@aol.com
DATE: May 31, 2006 5:13 PM
SUBJECT: Re: re: re: Cali Here We Come!
Chicas,
I’m so sorry I’m only writing now. As I was driving back from taking some photographs in Jackson Heights, I got into a tiny accident with a taxi. No se apuren! I’m perfectly fine. My SUV’s another story. W Just pray I can get it fixed by Saturday.
Anyway, I agree with Hazel re: the schedule. Another thing . . . shouldn’t we avoid driving during rush hour? IMHO, we should be more flexible in the schedule not only to allow for FUN but for delays, too. Que piensan?
Hazel, can you resend me the playlist in RTF? My Mac couldn’t open it. Oh, and when we go shopping for your graduation dress tomorrow, bring the CDs and I’ll upload them to my iPod.
If Denver’s out of the way, por favor, no se preocupen. I’m going home in August anyway. Besides I think my mother’s going to be at a technology conference that week, and my brother’s away at camp.
Jackie, what’s this about Snoop Dogg? L No me dejen ser la unica en el viaje que no fuma! I pray the police don’t stop us.
This weekend I took myself on a photography excursion to Jackson Heights, East Harlem, and Sunset Park since those are the neighborhoods with many Mexican immigrants. Except for my tiny accident, I had a fantastic weekend!
Un abrazo fuerte a todas,
Lourdes
TO: Hazel1983@hotmail.com, LuLuLinda@aol.com, DreaminginCuban@juno.com
FROM: imokurnot@yahoo.com
DATE: May 31, 2006 10:14 PM
SUBJECT: Re: re: re: re: Cali Here We Come!
A “tiny” accident put your SUV out of commission??? I’m glad you’re OK, pero tu eres loca. Y una princesa tambien, driving to school when you’re only two train stops away. BTW, you have to come to Soundview where Hazel and I grew up in the Bronx. I dropped in on my pops, and your people are everywhere, LOL!
Anyway, I really hope you can fix the SUV, but I’ll see if Raul can hook us up with a backup ride. Just know it might be a rickshaw or go-cart or something like that so I’d hold off on firing up the iPod. Instead get some rest then focus on collecting the common necessities we all need so we don’t have four irons, hair dryers, etc.
And don’t worry. The po won’t be able to catch me let alone stop me! Seriously, if we should get pulled over, I say we just give up the potheads and keep it movin’. Que piensas tu?
If we can make it to Denver, can we crash at your house, Lou? It’d save us some money and be a nice break from all the motels. No pressure. It’s your house, your family won’t be there, etc. Like I said, Denver’s an unlikely stop anyway, but . . .
To accommodate you freakin’ party animals, I made changes to the schedule:
9AM—11AM:Me
11AM—1PM:Lunch & Sightseeing
1PM—3PM:Irena
3PM—5PM:Lourdes
5PM—7PM:Hazel
7PM—???:PAR-TAY (and maybe a liquid supper)
Irena, can we do your ritual thing on the road instead of on the morning before we leave? Is your pops going to hook us up with some food? You haven’t gotten back to us about that yet. He knows you’re going, right?
Wil and I had a blast this weekend. For a moment there though, I panicked because we got off the Metro-North in the middle of nowhere, and the stop didn’t even have a station—just a rickety bench with a slab of wood that read “Breakneck Ridge.” I kid you not. I said, “Where the hell’s this ridge, Wil? In Bust-Yo’-Ass Forest?” But we camped, hiked, and even went white-water rafting. I’m hooked! That’s our next trip.
Almost done with my thesis. Once it’s done, I’M OUT THIS MUTHA! See y’all at the Olympic Flame on Friday.
Peace,
Jackie
P.S. Hazel, if you take us somewhere we have to line dance or sing karaoke, I will leave your ass on I-80.
JACKIE
1783 Willis Avenue
South Bronx, NY
Thursday, June 1, 10:39 a.m.
I make it halfway down the staircase when Wil calls my name. I hope he’s changed his mind. I rush back to his floor, taking the steps two at a time and getting a kick out of the thump of my boots as they hit the chipped marble.
The man stands in his doorway shirtless, dangling my sling bag from his hand. “You forgot this.” If Wil’s going to tease me like that, he’d better have changed his mind. I once overheard him tell Kharim, “Another cool thing about Jackie is that she never passes up some lovin’ because she’s afraid to sweat out her perm like Miss Sheila.” He has no business parading half-naked around me if he has no intention of giving it up.
I reach for my bag and say, “Irena says when you leave something behind, it’s ’cause you really don’t want to go.” When I lean in to kiss him, Wil slides his fingers up my neck and gently grips my hair. He knows what that does to me! I press against him, trying to ease my way back into his apartment for another round.
But Wil stands firm in the doorway and then pulls back from me. “Since when do you listen to Irena?” He reaches out to straighten the strap of my tank top. Then he spins me around, swats me on the ass, and gently shoves me back toward the staircase. “I’ll see you tonight.”
He ain’t right, grabbing my hair and kissing me like that, and he damn well knows it. “Be that way.” Then I force a smile because the last thing I need to do before leaving for Frisco is to fight with him. As I head down the stairs, I can hear Wil laugh before closing his apartment door.
And to think that if I had taken that capoeira class instead of the LSAT prep course, I never would have met him. With the money I had saved last year by buying used textbooks and packing lunch, I decided to treat myself to a class over the summer. I still like the kickboxing one I take at school, but I needed a new challenge. I always wanted to learn capoeira since it combines so many things I love—martial arts, dance, hip-hop—so I RSVPed for a trial class taught by this kick-ass brasileña I read about in the Village Voice. But while on the subway to Chelsea, I spotted an ad for an LSAT prep course. I thought, Damn, Jackie, that’s what you need to do. You may have excellent grades and respectable extracurricula, but without an LSAT score in the 170s, you can forget about getting into a top law school, let alone getting a scholarship. If I’m going to be the Latina reincarnation of William Kunstler, I can’t afford to rack up a hundred grand in student loans. So I nixed the class to go home and register for the LSAT prep course. And who’s there teaching it but the finest brother I have ever seen.
Jesus, I am starting to think like Irena. For a fleeting second, I almost chalked up meeting Wil to fate. Fate, my black ass. It was justice. For the first time in my twenty-two years on this earth, being the smartest chick in the room—and unapologetic about it—paid off. I’d better watch it or next thing I’ll be reading my horoscope, going to some botánica to have my cards read or some crazy shit like that. Irena would love that!
As much as I like Rena, I’m not going to get caught up in her New Age gaga even though I get why she needs to believe in it. At first, I didn’t understand why she froze during the Take Back the Night speakout two years ago. But when Irena left the podium and told me she had the unshakable feeling that bastard rapist was in the crowd, I said, “Point the animal out, and let’s neuter his ass.” Bet anything that would’ve done a lot more for her “healing process” than this turn-the-other-cheek bullshit.
When I leave the building, I almost trip over a brick-colored Spalding. Just as I pick it up, the little black girl who lives on Wil’s floor comes toward me, dragging a broken broomstick. What’s her name? I only know her as Li’l Bit, which is the nickname Wil gave her.
So I say, “What’s good, Li’l Bit?” I don’t know much about her, but I like her lots, and I’m not a big fan of kids (or they of mine, let me not front). While the other girls on this block sit on the stoop fawning over their Barbie dolls, Li’l Bit’s running the streets like her little ass is on fire.
I hear this ruckus around the corner so I step off the stoop and look up the block. The neighborhood kids are in the midst of a heated game of stickball. I used to love that game and was pretty damned good at it, too. I turn back to Li’l Bit, who’s standing next to me now, staring down at her ashy knees. Used to have those, too. “Why aren’t you playing with them?”
She just shrugs and holds her hand out for the ball. I give it to her and kneel down to tighten the laces on my boots. As I do, I watch Li’l Bit throw the ball against the building wall and swat it with her broomstick. The ball ricochets around the plaza, and I jump up to catch it before it flies in the street. Li’l Bit’s all power, no technique, just like me before my pops gave m...
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- PublisherOne World
- Publication date2006
- ISBN 10 0345482387
- ISBN 13 9780345482389
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