Hustlin' by L. Divine Page B

suspicious.
    â€œNo wonder you were able to jostle your way into Lady Macbeth’s crown.”
    â€œI didn’t jostle my way into anything, Laura.” I toss the trash into the bin, trying to ignore her energy. I have to deal with this broad enough as it is. I can’t wait until next week when this festival is over. Sharing a class with Laura and the rest of ASB has proven to be more than a sistah can handle.
    â€œOh, yes you did,” Laura says. “And the worst part about it is that you did it with tricks up your sleeve. But believe me, little girl, you’re not the only one who can work magic around here.”
    Again, Misty pops up her curly head out of nowhere, this time without Shae. Maybe she left something behind. Whatever the case, both of them and me in the main hall is still too close for comfort in my world.
    â€œDamn, Jayd, how much shit you got in your locker? It’s going to take you all day to clean that up.”
    Misty’s got her nerve talking. The only reason her locker isn’t as bad as mine is because she rarely takes notes or has extra paperwork to bring home. No one would ever accuse Misty of being a diligent student.
    â€œWhat’s in my locker is none of your business,” I say, tossing the last of the miscellaneous papers into the can before slamming the locker door shut and returning it to its post by the bathroom door. I’ve got about five minutes before the bell rings and want to get to Mrs. Sinclair as soon as she lets us in. I’m too anxious to try on my costume to give these broads any more of my time.
    â€œNo, but once it’s out and in the trash, it’s public property. Remember that,” Laura says, walking out of the nearly empty hall before I can make my exit.
    What the hell was that all about? Misty, looking momentarily victorious for some reason, heads toward the main office, leaving me completely alone in the vast building. What the hell just happened here? Before I can figure it out, Chance texts me, telling me to get down to the drama room for my fitting. It’s about time.
    When I get to the dress rehearsal, everyone’s already buzzing with excitement over his or her costume. The drama room is packed and there’s more plastic garment covers on the floor than at a cleaner’s as cast members and groupies alike uncover the precious wardrobe. I have to admit, anytime we perform a Shakespearean play, the costumes are amazing. I spot Chance, Matt, and Seth in a corner making fun of Chance’s costume. He does kind of remind me of a character in Men in Tights .
    â€œSo, how’s your injury, Banquo?” I ask, gently pushing Chance in the arm.
    Alia’s eyeing her witch costume in awe: it is pretty amazing, including a hump for her back, long, gray hair, warts and all.
    â€œIt’s all good. Hey, have you seen Nigel today? I’ve been looking for him and texting him all day with no response.”
    Now I’m positive he and Mickey ditched. One day they’re going to get busted for that shit.
    â€œNo, I’ve been looking for Mickey myself.” I glance toward the door leading to the hallway where the dressing room, bathrooms, Mrs. Sinclair’s office, and the entrance to the theater are. I want to go pee, but I notice Laura heading back that way and I’ve had enough of her for one day.
    â€œJayd, your dress is in the dressing room. The gown for the sleepwalking scene isn’t ready yet, but will be by opening night,” Mrs. Sinclair says, entering the classroom and buzzing through the packed room to check on all of the outfits. Her bushy, red head can be seen among all of the students with her checklist in hand. “I need everyone to come and sit down with their costumes in hand, please. Hurry so we can get class started and rehearse, please,” Mrs. Sinclair shouts through the crowded room. As if she’s said nothing, no one moves.
    â€œHey, get your clothes,