Pride (Page 7)

“You think they’re pissed?” Janae asks as she scoops up a spoonful of ice cream.

“Who?” I ask, playing dumb.

“You know who I’m talking about. The Darcys. They’re not even here a week and already our block is bringing all this noise to their doorstep.”

“I don’t care,” I say.

“Yes, you do.”

“No. I do not.”

“You should’ve seen your face when Darius saved you from that bike.”

“I don’t care what I looked like, Janae!”

She just laughs at me, and I give in and laugh too. No one can stay mad at Janae for long.

I spot Charlise making her way over to us from Bushwick Avenue. And as if she already knows I’m looking straight at her, our eyes meet. She smiles her Charlise smile—a head nod and one corner of her mouth turned up.

I hadn’t texted her that the new neighbors had shown up, because I wanted her to see them for herself.

“Z-Money. What up?” she says when she reaches our stoop, giving me one of her hard daps with her man hands. Charlise is a baller who’s been accepted to Duke on a basketball scholarship. She’s a year older than me, and between her and Janae, I know all about what to expect for applying to college. But Charlise is planning on coming back after Duke too.

I shimmy my shoulders, clap one time, do a little two-step with my feet while still sitting on the stoop, a little dance move with my hands, and Charlise figures it out real quick.

She gasps, nudges Janae so she can sit in between us, faces me, and asks with wide eyes, “What happened, Z? Is this an inside story, or an outside story? Hot tea or iced tea? Spill it! I got my teacup right here!” She pretends to sip from a tiny cup while holding out her pinkie.

Both Janae and I start laughing. Charlise loves neighborhood gossip just like Mama.

I fix my mouth to start telling the story of how those Darcy boys moved into the hood when the music changes and some of the kids rush to the deejay to do the latest dance moves.

“Aw, yeah! That’s my joint right there!” Charlise sings, and takes my hand to pull me up, and that’s when I see the Darcys coming out of their house. I automatically stop dancing and sit back down.

“What happened?” Janae asks, finishing her ice cream.

“Nothing,” I say, only bopping to the beat a little.

But Janae knows me too well, so she stands up and sees what I just saw. And of course, she waves. “They’re coming over here.”

“I’m out.” I start to stand to go back upstairs, but Janae stops me.

“Aw, come on! What’s wrong with you, Zuri? We can’t avoid them for the rest of our lives.”

“Rest of our lives? Who says we’ll know them for the rest of our lives?”

“What are y’all talking about?” Charlise asks. She’s still dancing and hasn’t noticed the boys.

Janae taps her shoulder and points toward the Darcys with her chin.

“Oh. Hello!” Charlise says. “Who are they?”

“Those’re the boys who moved into that house,” Janae says.

“What? For real, for real?” Charlise says, smiling and wide-eyed.

“For real,” both Janae and I say together.

“Damn. They’re hella fine.”

Janae throws me a told-you-so look.

“I’m not blind, Janae. I know they look good. It’s just that they’re off-limits,” I say.

“Zuri doesn’t like them just ’cause they live across the street,” Janae tells Charlise.

“I feel you, Z,” says Charlise. “The way y’all do things on this block, it’ll be like they’re your cousins.”

“Thank you!” I say. “But, wait. No. I mean, it’ll be complicated. They won’t be like our cousins. I mean, look at that house.”

“Okay. They’ll be like your rich cousins,” Charlise says. “But they won’t be my cousins. Introduce me, Zuri.”

“No!” I almost yell. “Not you too!”

“Look,” Janae says. “If those Darcys did all that stuff to that house, then they’re gonna be here for a very, very long time too. We might as well get to know them.”

“They’re not really trying to get to know us, Nae. Yeah, they fixed up that house, and soon they’ll want to fix up our whole block. I don’t think they’re feeling this block party.”

“Oh, yeah? Look,” she says, pointing with her chin.

Ainsley has joined the group of kids dancing with the deejay. He’s wearing a big ol’ smile.

Janae starts dancing along. “Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey!” she sings to the music, acting just as corny as Ainsley.

Charlise doesn’t join them, thank goodness. She just watches Ainsley and giggles.

Ainsley turns to us, still dancing, and somehow, he and Janae manage to dance with each other while he’s a few feet away and she’s still on the stoop. Ainsley calls her over. Janae shakes her head and calls him over instead. He and my sister are acting like complete cornballs.

“No, Janae. Please don’t,” I mutter under my breath.

But Ainsley doesn’t move, and in no time, Layla makes her way over to him and starts dancing.

“Uh-uh. No she didn’t!” Janae says.

“Your little sister don’t waste no time,” says Charlise.

The music changes to something different, with a faster beat, and instead of stepping away from Ainsley, Layla grabs Kayla and they surround him.

“Oh, no,” I say. “Where is Papi when we need him?”

“They’re just having fun,” Charlise says.

Ainsley goes along with the whole thing as if he’s been accosted by thirteen-year-olds before. He knows all the dance moves, even though he’s a little off beat, and this makes him look kind of cute. I’m mad at myself for even thinking that.

I spot Darius watching them too. He’s not bopping his head, smiling, or even looking at all the kids around him. He just stands there on the sidewalk, with his arms crossed, acting like he’s too good for all this.

“That’s the younger brother, over there in the white shirt. Darius,” I say to Charlise. “I can’t stand him.”

“Didn’t he just move here?” she says.

“Yeah, but look at him!”

“I see what you mean. He has no swag whatsoever. Neither of them do. But at least that Ainsley is trying. Come on! Introduce me!”

Then, suddenly, Layla walks over and starts dancing with Darius. I can see from all the way over here that his nose is flared, his lips are turned up, and his brows are furrowed, as if my little sister disgusts him. Layla doesn’t notice a thing.

“Do you see his face, Charlise? That whole family might as well be white.” I start to get up from the stoop.

“Z! Leave them alone. They’re just having fun!”

I ignore Charlise and quickly walk down the stoop, stomp through the crowd of dancing kids, and head straight for Layla. I yank her arm and pull her aside.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Zuri?” Layla shouts.

“I’m sorry,” I say to Darius, before turning to my sister. “You need to slow down. He don’t want you all up on him like that.”

“We’re just dancing,” she says, rubbing her arm.

“No, you’re just dancing, while he’s over here looking at you like you’re a pile of crap.”