skin and black braids extended to her waist.
She was wearing tight faded blue jeans, a red sleeveless T-shirt, and black platform shoes. She was kind of tall, with a tight body like a video freak. I could feel jealousy and lust creeping around the room, and when she finished singing, the room was as quiet as a library at midnight.
Everyone in the audience clapped. Mr. Santos stood up and clapped too. He acted like he had found a star.
Jamal, this fine brother who was sitting behind me, asked the guy who was sitting next to him, “Hey, Eddie, is she beautiful or what?”
“She’s beautiful,” Eddie replied.
“I’m gonna havta get with that,” Jamal said.
Eddie just laughed. “Player, you crazy.”
Emako walked down the steps and sat down in the empty seat next to me. I smiled at her and she smiled back. Her teeth were perfect and white. I ran my tongue over my braces. She wore silver rings on every finger, including her thumbs, and had a tattoo of a small red rose on her right shoulder. Confidence was all around her and I took some of it with me when Mr. Santos called my name next.
I walked up the steps slowly, cleared my throat three times, and sang a song called “Santa Baby” that Eartha Kitt had made famous. It was a song my mama always played at Christmastime, a song I knew all the words to. When I finished, a few people clapped and Mr. Santos gave me a thumbs-up. I made it, I thought. I laughed out loud and returned to my seat.
“You can sing,” Emako said.
I thought she was just messing with me. “Yeah, right.”
“No, for real. What’s your name?”
“Monterey,” I replied.
“My name’s Emako. Holler at you t’morrow,” she said as she walked out of the auditorium into the sun.
I looked at my watch. It was almost four-thirty. I picked up my backpack and left like a deer, quietly.
I went outside and sat down under a tree on a low brick wall in front of the school, waiting for my daddy to pick me up. Cars rolled by and a warm breeze blew. It was a perfect day in L.A. I put on my sunglasses to keep from squinting into the sun.
I thought about Emako and wondered why I had never seen her before and why she would even talk to me. Girls like her hardly ever did. They usually acted like I wasn’t around, like I was invisible, like I was a nobody. My best friend, Simone, had moved away over the summer and I felt kind of lonely. I took a deep breath and looked at my watch.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said as I climbed into the car.
“You’re always late,” I replied, and turned on the radio. “I could always take the bus, you know,” I added. “I’m not a little girl anymore.”
“You’re the only little girl I have and I don’t want you taking the bus. It’s not safe.”
“Nothing’s gonna happen to me. You worry too much, Daddy.”
“Monterey?”
“Yes?”
“Didn’t we just talk about this yesterday?”
“Yes,” I replied.
“Let’s just say that I don’t want to talk about it again, okay?”
“Okay,” I mumbled. “I made it into chorus,” I added.
“That’s sensational. My little girl can sing,” he said with a smile.
Little girl. Those words made me want to scream, but instead I just turned up the radio and looked out of the window, hoping I would get home in time to watch 106 & Park.
We got home just as it started. I hurried to my room, locked the door, and turned on the TV.
I had only been home for about five minutes when I heard my mama open the garage door to come into the house. She knocked on my door. “Monterey?”
“Yeah?”
“How was school?” She asked the same question every day.
I gave the same answer every day: “Fine.”
She tried the doorknob. “Why’s the door locked? Haven’t I told you not to lock your door?”
“I’m not a baby anymore. I’m fifteen and it’s my room.”
“Monterey, are you tryin’ to get fresh with me? Open this door.”
I opened the door partway and peeked. “I made it into
She was wearing tight faded blue jeans, a red sleeveless T-shirt, and black platform shoes. She was kind of tall, with a tight body like a video freak. I could feel jealousy and lust creeping around the room, and when she finished singing, the room was as quiet as a library at midnight.
Everyone in the audience clapped. Mr. Santos stood up and clapped too. He acted like he had found a star.
Jamal, this fine brother who was sitting behind me, asked the guy who was sitting next to him, “Hey, Eddie, is she beautiful or what?”
“She’s beautiful,” Eddie replied.
“I’m gonna havta get with that,” Jamal said.
Eddie just laughed. “Player, you crazy.”
Emako walked down the steps and sat down in the empty seat next to me. I smiled at her and she smiled back. Her teeth were perfect and white. I ran my tongue over my braces. She wore silver rings on every finger, including her thumbs, and had a tattoo of a small red rose on her right shoulder. Confidence was all around her and I took some of it with me when Mr. Santos called my name next.
I walked up the steps slowly, cleared my throat three times, and sang a song called “Santa Baby” that Eartha Kitt had made famous. It was a song my mama always played at Christmastime, a song I knew all the words to. When I finished, a few people clapped and Mr. Santos gave me a thumbs-up. I made it, I thought. I laughed out loud and returned to my seat.
“You can sing,” Emako said.
I thought she was just messing with me. “Yeah, right.”
“No, for real. What’s your name?”
“Monterey,” I replied.
“My name’s Emako. Holler at you t’morrow,” she said as she walked out of the auditorium into the sun.
I looked at my watch. It was almost four-thirty. I picked up my backpack and left like a deer, quietly.
I went outside and sat down under a tree on a low brick wall in front of the school, waiting for my daddy to pick me up. Cars rolled by and a warm breeze blew. It was a perfect day in L.A. I put on my sunglasses to keep from squinting into the sun.
I thought about Emako and wondered why I had never seen her before and why she would even talk to me. Girls like her hardly ever did. They usually acted like I wasn’t around, like I was invisible, like I was a nobody. My best friend, Simone, had moved away over the summer and I felt kind of lonely. I took a deep breath and looked at my watch.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said as I climbed into the car.
“You’re always late,” I replied, and turned on the radio. “I could always take the bus, you know,” I added. “I’m not a little girl anymore.”
“You’re the only little girl I have and I don’t want you taking the bus. It’s not safe.”
“Nothing’s gonna happen to me. You worry too much, Daddy.”
“Monterey?”
“Yes?”
“Didn’t we just talk about this yesterday?”
“Yes,” I replied.
“Let’s just say that I don’t want to talk about it again, okay?”
“Okay,” I mumbled. “I made it into chorus,” I added.
“That’s sensational. My little girl can sing,” he said with a smile.
Little girl. Those words made me want to scream, but instead I just turned up the radio and looked out of the window, hoping I would get home in time to watch 106 & Park.
We got home just as it started. I hurried to my room, locked the door, and turned on the TV.
I had only been home for about five minutes when I heard my mama open the garage door to come into the house. She knocked on my door. “Monterey?”
“Yeah?”
“How was school?” She asked the same question every day.
I gave the same answer every day: “Fine.”
She tried the doorknob. “Why’s the door locked? Haven’t I told you not to lock your door?”
“I’m not a baby anymore. I’m fifteen and it’s my room.”
“Monterey, are you tryin’ to get fresh with me? Open this door.”
I opened the door partway and peeked. “I made it into
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