Keysha's Drama by Earl Sewell Page B

of Bel-Air . “Barbara will be home later. We’re all going out for a nice family dinner tonight,” he announced, and I cringed at the thought of sitting at a dinner table with them.
    â€œI don’t have anything to wear,” I quickly said, confident that my excuse would get me out of having to go with them.
    â€œLook in the closet over there, honey. Some nice clothes have been purchased for you,” said Grandmother Katie, who still had a smile plastered on her face. I just knew that whatever they had purchased for me was all wrong. Old people have no sense of style , I thought to myself.
    â€œIf you need anything, we’ll be down in the family room,” Jordan said before he and his mother walked out of the room and shut the door behind them.

Chapter 13
    I just stood in the center of my bedroom for the longest time, afraid to touch anything. Once I found the courage to move within the space, I went over to the vanity and looked at the products there. It was filled with Proactive Solution skin-care products, cotton balls, Q-tips and an assortment of nail polishes and other makeup items. I opened the top left drawer and discovered it contained feminine hygiene essentials, which I had to admit I was in desperate need of. I went over and sat down at the desk in the room and stared out the window. My view was of the backyard. There was a large tree directly outside of my window that blocked part of my view of the garage and swimming pool. I don’t know how long I’d been sitting there but I was startled out of my trance by a knock at the door. I didn’t say anything, so the person knocked again. This time a little louder. I got up, moved to the door and opened it.
    â€œWhat’s up, son?” A young boy was at my door. He had caramel skin, a thin trace of hair on his upper lip and an athletic build.
    â€œYou’re Mike, right?” I asked, trying not to laugh as I studied his appearance more closely. He had a white scarf wrapped around his head, which I assumed was more for fashion than it was for hairstyle. He had a Band-Aid positioned under his left eye, which made him look like a Nelly wannabe. He contorted his face and puckered his lips into an expression he considered to be thuggish, but it only made him look as if he were sitting on the throne with a bad case of constipation. He had on an oversize Akademiks T-shirt with matching Akademiks Armor jeans and a pair of Akademiks gym shoes.
    â€œWhat? You see something funny?” he asked as he crossed his arms across his chest and tucked his fingers in his armpits. He appeared to be attempting to flex his chest and arm muscles, but he didn’t have enough muscle to flex.
    â€œBoy, you are not hard, so don’t even try to act like you are some thug with a reputation and a criminal record.”
    â€œYou don’t know me. You don’t know the things I’ve done. I’m a straight gangster. You’re in my world now.”
    â€œWell, you’re the first thirteen-year-old hardened gangster I’ve seen,” I said, thinking he was joking.
    â€œI’m going to be fourteen in a minute,” he said, making a gesture with his fingers. It was then that I realized he was serious about the charade he was putting on.
    â€œWhatever, fool,” I said and was about to slam the door in his face.
    â€œGirl, why are you hating on me? Is it because I’m so iced-out? Is it because of my grillz?” He smiled at me, and I peeked at his teeth.
    â€œThat is not a grillz in your mouth, those are braces,” I said. “Who do you think you’re trying to fool? Your money is not long, and you are certainly not a baller.” I’d suddenly become annoyed with him. I studied him closely for another moment and could tell he was up to no good by the way he shifted his eyes from left to right.
    â€œOkay.” He lowered his voice to a loud whisper. “I may not be a baller or a thug