The Come Up

Chapter 4- Phonecalls

 The weekend came quickly and I was grateful to be out of school. I had promised Trisha we would go see the new Step Up movie. Only God knows why she loves dancing white boys. Either way she wouldn't respond to my text messages and I haven't seen her in school or on the block. She was going to milk this fight out as long as she possibly could. Trisha was being spoiled. 

I sit up in my bed and try to call her one last time but again the ring goes to a formal greeting answering machine. I rolled my eyes and let out a sigh.

"Iight, Trisha. If you really wanna act funny that's cool. Ima talk to you later. " I leave the voicemail after the beep. Forcing myself to get out of bed, I sleepily glide to the mirror and unwrap my hair, taking all of the hairpins out one by one. I look at my roots and sigh in distress.

"Damn, I gotta do my hair." No one is present to hear my mumble, or see this horrid sight that is Chanel. I combed out my jet black hair and watched as it brushed pass my shoulders. It didn't take too long to get the knots out but combing it couldn't fix the roots.  I decided to go to the Dominican hair dresser down the block and get my hair washed and blow dryed. I showered, had some cereal and got dressed in regular sweats and a t-shirt. Mom always gave me so much crap about dressing nice and acting more like the pretty girl I am but I wasn't one of those girls who focused solely on appearance. Not even my poetry was pretty and presentable. 

"Where you off to ma'am?" I heard a voice from the room across from mine. Mom had her head wrap on along with her long purple robe. She was sitting on the side of her bed with her glasses on.

"I gotta do my hair, it looks crazy." I say, slipping on my cap.

Mom looks at me with small eyes.

"What?" I asked confused.

"Where have you been disappearing to for hours at a time in the weekday?" She asks. I realize that this is the first time I've really seen my mom in the last few days. I have been in the studio the entire time. She probably missed me.

I struggle, deciding if I should tell her. " I've been hanging out with Trevon." I say honestly.

"Where? Because if you come in here with a baby one day, it's not gonna be pretty Chanel. You know better than to be runnin around doing stupidness." The familiar motherly tone that kept me out of so much trouble was never music to my ear, though well appreciated. A lot of kids on the block didn't even have that.

"No, no." I say rolling my eyes but there is a smile on my lips and I don't know where it came from or why it's there. I look at my Mother and chose my words carefully.

 "I've been working on some poetry and music in the studio. It's nothing big but I like it and.." , I shrug looking around. "..it keeps Trev out of trouble, keeps us sane."

She looks at me first confused then pleased and then shakes her head but looking accepting.

 " You like that boy?" Mother lowers her eyes at me and stares into my soul. The question doesn't take me by surprise, it wasn't the first time she had asked. Trisha has asked me a few times too. Neither of them ever got an answer. Honestly, I'm sure I like him, who wouldn't like him? He's charismatic, handsome, smart, driven. His body isn't half bad either. But even though he flirts, I don't think he feels the same way. Trevon is a flirt, he does it on cue without even thinking about what to say. I've seen girls swoon over him like honey to bees and I've seen him flirt with all of them. 

I've heard so many rumors about Trev sleeping with other girls that I am completely turned off to the idea of dating him these days, but do I like him?