This is a continuation of The Slumber Party; where Melissa Andrews spent the night at Teniasha's and was given a new hair do to match Jasmine's. Today is the big Home Coming Game and the dance that evening at Morris Academy.

 

Melissa Goes to School

by

Karen Anne Summerfield
© November 2001

Part III - The Home Coming

 

We ate in shifts and enjoyed breakfast of just about anything any of us desired. Teniesha's dad was a great cook and make me sausages and pancakes that were better than mom's. I ate with Jasmine, Teniesha and Aliesha. We'd collectively been nicknamed the 'black girls' by the others - I think Pam had suggested it after we all were given similar hair dos. Other than color, my hair matched Jasmine's in length, beadwork and the number of braids. Ours was quite a few inches longer with our bells hanging to just above our waists. When they'd done Teniesha's it was made identical to Aliesha's and hung below their shoulders.

As there were four of us per shift, the bathroom off the master bedroom was made available for our use. We had last shift because our hair would not occupy our time as the others' would when they'd shampooed. Still, we'd plenty of time to don our uniforms and fix our makeup. My new nails made that a lot harder for me than previously.

While we'd been bathing, the others had decided to further set aside the black girls. To go with our regular hair bells, the girls had added almost two-dozen jingle bells to the laces of our high-topped, white sneakers. Every row of laces had three of them. We were helped to add still more when they tied the bows.

The game was scheduled to start at noon, but like the band and the team, the cheerleaders were to report to our coach two hours prior to kick-off in the gym. Mrs. Stinson took one look at us and started to laugh when our loud approach caused her to turn towards where we came in.

"Coach, that's the black girls," Carol volunteered.

"I think it's great. Really wonderful girls! Turn around so I can see all of you." We did.

"Melissa, come in my office please?" I wondered if I had done anything wrong.

"The rest of you start warming up." I followed her and closed the door when asked.

"Are you OK?"

"Sure. There's nothing wrong. May I know why you asked?"

"I know you had a party last night. Did they force that on you?" She was staring at my hair.

"No. I admit I didn't know any more than they planned to make my hair like Jasmine's used to be, but once I realized what it was going to be, I didn't try to stop them either."

"Were you drinking? Be honest with me." She seemed very concerned.

"No ma'am. None of us had any alcohol. Teniesha's mom and dad were there the entire time. Have I done something wrong?"

"No, but I hope you realize the consequences of what you've done. You are wide open for a lot of teasing, jokes and racial prejudice.

"I don't care about your sexual activates or preferences beyond letting me know if you ever get pregnant or you just want to talk to me. There's already a rumor that you and Jasmine are lovers."

"Well piss on them! We're not lovers and I'll be at the dance tonight with a man!" I stated. Mrs. Stinson smiled.

"Good for you. Now run out with the others and start your workout." She opened the door for me and followed me toward the squad.

"Hey, Coach?"

"Yes, Kitten."

"What happened to the boys this year? They haven't been to practice, weren't with us for the rally and not here now?"

"Yeah, Coach. Aren't they with us?" Judy inquired.

"You know Timmy, Joe and Chuck graduated leaving Billy, Carl and James. No boys came to tryouts and the other three were not going to do it if they were so outnumbered.

(Check names) "Wimps. I'll bet you wouldn't have to try too hard to get them to wear our uniforms, Billy especially," Judy offered. "We all know he'd rather be a girl." Everyone laughed at her statement - everyone but me.

"I want the four black girls in the middle. Melissa and Jasmine stay where you are. Teniesha on Melissa's left and Aliesha on Jazz's right." She waited for the others to get in place. OK, now for most of the routines, I was the black girls centermost and to stay together." Mrs. Stinson rearranged the others around us.

We were worked through our routine, but not too much, so as to not tire us out. One thing became rapidly apparent; my new hairstyle was going to take a lot to get used to. Beyond all the noise the beads and bells made, it was heavy and flailed my back and shoulders when I moved my head, especially when I did more vigorous acrobatics. It took not too much effort for the other girls to become accustomed to their new positions and to start coordinating their tumbling moves. Not all the girls could do mid-air somersaults and flips. Jasmine could, but she couldn't do a split. Kitten was the only other girl able to accomplish one of them.

"Kitten, you're being hidden in back. Move between Jasmine and Melissa," Mrs. Stinson directed. "When our team scores, I what the others cheering and the black girls to do the acrobatics.

We'd practiced this with only Jasmine and me doing the aerial somersaults and were worked through it with the other two performing besides us and Kitten showing off, front and center.

"Kitten, pyramid," Jasmine called. Like the quarterback, as our Captain, Jasmine had the authority to direct our plays. I moved next to Jasmine and locked together. Teniesha came behind and helped Kitten to climb up and stand on our shoulders. They did a forward and backward flip then Kitten somersaulted to a split before us. This seemed to work well.

Mrs. Stinson gave us a pep talk, we took a fifteen-minute break then it was time to go on the field a half hour before kick-off. Our job, even before the game started, was to start to build enthusiasm as the spectators filled the bleachers.

When we ran out cheering on to the field, we instantly had everyone's attention. Jogging along the sidelines, the girls dropped out one by one until we were evenly spaced for the fifty yards that the stands stretched. Kitten now possessed the fifty-yard line with Jasmine and me, four yards to either side. Once in position we were to just pose, legs stretched out and straight and our fists pressing the sides of our waists. This was our chance to catch our breath and mentally gear up to perform for the next two hours before the crowd.

For ten minutes, until the band marched out, we weren't supposed to move and just smile pretty. Mrs. Stinson moved along the lineup stopping to inspect each girl and her uniform then give us encouragement

"Shoulders back, thrust your chest out! You're a cheerleader now. Display your assets, girl!" I did as I was told. "Good girl, you're on display here, you can't hide, so don't try.

Move your hands a sec'." When I lifted them, she pulled my sweater down. "OK, better.

"Melissa, you have the potential to be really good, at this or anything else you set your mind to. I've been impressed the few days I've known you. Don't let me down."

"I won't, Mrs. Stinson," I said in a soft voice."

"Don't or I'll kick your black ass from here to the locker room." Her smile confirmed she was teasing me. It was just an indication of more to come. Mrs. Stinson moved to Teniesha.

"The Tiger squad is here. Atten-SHUN! About-FACE! Welcome them girls and wish them good luck, they'll need it!"

"T-I-G-E-R-S! Tigers! Tigers! Best of luck! Rah!" we shouted across the field then turned to the Morris fans and lead then through it. They we less than enthusiastic, but that was expected when cheering the opposition.

We paused to watch our band start to march on, down the centerline of the field and playing the Morris Academy song. Despite it being just high school, they sounded quite decent. I thought the Drum Majorette, whom I'd learn was Tammy Raphael, looked gorgeous in her military style, white uniform full of gold embellishments. She really strutted. As our band moved to the sidelines, the Tiger one entered from the opposite end zone.

I thought that our majorettes were cute, but theirs were pretty. Having a portly Drum Major though, was no competition for Tammy.

Their band set up for their players to run between and ours did the same. The loud speakers crackled to life.

Tiger players were introduced as their drummers played. Our band added a trumpet fanfare to preceded the drum roll.

"All rise for the National Anthem!" The speakers boomed. Our squad turned towards the flag. Mrs. Stinson really hadn't cared if we could sing or not during try outs, but she insisted, that as her cheerleaders we were to sing the Star Spangled Banner, all of the verses.

I'm blessed with a good voice. I was confident it would not give me away, beyond that, I sing well. No one at Morris, besides mom, had ever heard sign. My dad had been an Air Force pilot and had been shot down during the Desert Storm ugliness. Patriotism meant something very special for me. When I sing a song like our Anthem, I put my heart into it.

It took several minutes for the band to march off and our teams to line up on the field. If she hadn't been, I think Mrs. Stinson should have been a stage show director. We used the time to introduce ourselves to the Morris crowd. By then, the bleachers were full and many stood on both sides.

"Spread out, girls! Get all the crowd covered." Our line stretched nearly from end zone to end zone. "Strut your stuff!"

Carole, over fifty yards to my left started off, "CAROLE! C-A-R-O-L-E! CAROLE!" That was all we were permitted to say, but had free rein with a fifteen second display of our talent. Facing the crowd, I couldn't watch the others.

"KITTEN! K-I-T-T-E-N! KITTEN!" A few seconds later, it was my turn to perform.

I sapped my head to the left, causing my braids to swing out and clatter. "MELISSA!" I repeated it to my right, "MELISSA!" I faced ahead, "M,E,L," back somersault! "I,S,S,A! I shouted both sets rapidly then did a front somersault to land in a split shouting, "MELISSA!"

"Show off," Kitten giggled.

Allen caught the kickoff from the Tigers and returned it to their nine-yard line before he was tackled. The black girls got a heck of a workout before the halftime break. We were ahead forty-five to six.

"Alright girls, try to relax. Each of you, drink a big mug of Gatorade then relax. Be sure to fix your makeup."

"Mrs. Stinson, could you hear Melissa sing?" Teniesha called.

"Was that her?"

"Sure 'nuph was!" I felt embarrassed. My rendition wasn't showing off or performing. My feelings weren't intended for debate or even discussion.

"You should give her a microphone, Mrs. Stinson. Let everyone hear her." helpful Kitten offered. I wanted to choke her. "Want to inspire the crowd, solo, her." Great!

All eyes were on me, I couldn't look, but I knew it. I felt the blood flush my face.

Fortunately, Mrs. Stinson ended it by changing the subject.

"I've been listening to the comments from the stands, faculty, parents and students are all talking about the black girls."

"Whatcha saying, mama?" Jasmine talked with a voice as cultured as her father's, but without his English pronunciation and inflections When she wanted to, she could turn on the same dialect that Tina had developed to earn herself millions.

"They really like the black girls this year. Don't be hurt, but the white one is getting the most kudos."

"Geezch! Mama, that ain't no whitie, Melissa just watchin' her figa an' not munchin' chalcolates, 'nuf!" Teniesha turned it up too. "No prob with me, mama, ya showcase the bitch."

The others joined and it was obvious that I was already accepted.

We had our break during which my friends all teased, but in a gentle, friendly way. It was back in the lineup, posing, as the Tiger band entertained.

"We'd like an interview and pictures." A guy said to me. He bore a 'Press Pass' and carried a skinny notebook. A guy behind had a similar pass and was laden with cameras. Already, one was flashing away.

"I'm to hold position. My coach is behind you. Request it from her. I'm not to break position," They turned to ask.

"Melissa, sign a Model Release, a full set of all pictures and right of publication refusal," she strongly advised.

I did give them a Model Release, but modified it to suit me and they a promised picture set, but the 'Right of refusal' was refused. I went back on the field and preformed and posed for the cameras anyway. Fault me however you want, I'm vain enough and was very flattered.

Shortly after second half kick-off, a pass was intercepted. Brad caught it and he returned it for a touch down. The crowd was on their feet and we were again performing.

The rest of the third and most of the fourth quarter were disappointing and we yelled our lungs out, but to no avail.

With just three minutes left on the clock the score was Tigers fifty-three and Morris fifty-one. We had the ball on our own twenty-three yard line. Brad fell back as the Tiger line rushed him and threw a long one to Calvin Jones. Just barely, did his big hands snag the ball before it touched the grass, but he couldn't stay up and was piled on as he went down. Jasmine started to cry and pray out loud when he didn't get up.

"Please, please, Lord? Don't let him be hurt!" Tears streaming down her cheeks she stared, a horrified expression on her face at the medics ran out. She started to run towards the group and I tried to catch her.

Coach Jackson nearly tackled my friend, as she got close.

"Cal's OK. Jazz. He's OK."

"Why didn't he get up if he's OK?" she screamed.

"Had the wind knocked out. Let the pros work, Jazz." He was hugging her tight and wouldn't let her near. No one stopped me though.

Calvin was on his back and his helmet was off while they checked him over. I knelt right next to him and took his hand.

"Yo, Jazz." I stroked his hand with my nails to let him know I was there. Feeling them I guess he thought I was she. "Not a good play, momma."

"Nope bro', not a good play." He turned to look at me.

"Yo, Eyes in heaven, ya turned white Jazzi."

"You K, bro'?"

"Eyes kewl."

"He's fine, just going to be sore a few day, Jazz," one of the medics said. Together we got him up and Jasmine ran over once Coach let her go.

"Yo! Eyes seein' doulbles like, a black an' a honkey Jazz. Betta check me again, Doc." Jasmine and I steadied him and slowly guided Calvin to the bench.

Brad was staring, gaping like a guppy when we started back to our places. I grabbed him and gave his cheek a wet kiss.

"Get out there and win it for Calvin or you'll have Jazzi and me to deal with!"

I'd like to say we won, but we didn't despite a fine effort. Their team dug in and stopped our guys on the seven-yard line and Jack's field goal attempt went wide.

"Melissa?" a woman's voice called as I walked off the field. I never expected to see mom hurrying towards me. Mr. Brendrict, the school Principle was with her. Mom never before had attended a football game that I was aware of.

"Hi, Mom," I greeted when she was near.

"Melissa, I must say I kept looking for you, but never recognized you with that ... a, new hair do. Sam finally asked Carole where you were after the game." She referred to Mr. Benedict and Mrs. Stinson. "Every one kept saying you were one of the black girls."

"I am. With this new hair, they made me one," I smiled.

"If you say." Her look was very disapproving.

"Sam, this is my daughter, Melissa Andrews. She bears my late husband's name.

"Mr. Brendrict," I curtseyed to him.

"Pleased to meet you, Melissa. You put on a fine show today. It's a shame the boys didn't win it."

"It's a game and not war, sir. Games are recreation and entertainment. There is no shame in losing if you gave it your best. We tried, that is all any of us can do."

"Some, like you try harder." I just smiled and bobbed at his compliment.

"Ready to go home?" mom asked.

"I'll see you at the dance tonight, Sam." They hugged. I didn't know they were on that friendly a basis.

It took me a few minutes to gather all my stuff and put it in mom's car.

"You look really very pretty in your uniform, dear. I suppose you are still fighting all the boys off?"

"Thanks. Can we not talk about boys? I'm still not dealing well with them.

"Fine, let's talk about your man then. How old is Ted, he doesn't look like he's in high school still?"

"Nor is he still in graduate school, Mom. Ted is twenty-nine." I saw her wince when she heard that. "He's a surgeon like his father.

"Ever hear of Tina Jade, Mom?" I changed the subject.

"The rock singer? The one on the cover of People and in the MTV videos you watch?"

"I met her Thursday night, she's Jasmine's and Ted's sister."

"Don't change the subject. Tell me why a girl like you is dating a man and one nearly twice your age, to boot, tonight?" she demanded.

"I feel safer, for one. Ted isn't some teen boy with raging, rampant hormones in his blood. He also has a lot going for him. Nothing is going to happen." I wasn't as confident as I tried to make it seem.

We rode in silence for a couple of miles and mom occasionally looked at me, but said nothing until near the house.

"I do hope you are right, Melissa."

"Me too, Mom. So far, things are working very well for me."

"Tell me, we've not had much time to talk." I told her how well I was being accepted, about all my friends, Jasmine's and Teniesha's family and about the cheerleaders.

"Tell me about that hair do and everyone thinking you're black?"

"Jasmine's hair is like mine and Teniesha's and Aliesha's too. What's the big deal? It takes getting used to. For me too, you know, Mom?

"I don't think most kids put the racial importance on others like our parents do and especially our grandparents did. It is not the big deal some want it to still seem. Jasmine is the first girl to try to make friends with me first. That her skin is darker than mine, so what? It doesn't matter. She is my friend and that is all that counts. I care about that, mom. What others think is not important.

"When we talked about me transitioning and being just Melissa, you told me that the most important thing was to be myself, be happy being me and not worry about being different.

"I don't." She smiled and patted my bare thigh.

I napped for a few hours then took a long hot bath, still leaving me time to get ready and not be rushed. My nails were still burdensome, but I was getting better putting on my makeup with them. At last I had it looking, as I wanted to and quite a bit more dramatic then I wore at school. I'd even applied false eyelashes. It was harder to get used to the look of cornrows and tight, silver decorated braids then learning to cope with my nails.

I chose black undies and was going to wear stockings, not pantyhose under the dress and petticoats. Jasmine's dress has a snug, spaghetti strap, satin top with a full, velvet skirt, which reached to about six inches above my knees. The black net petticoats held in a pouf. Once I put on my thin-strapped platform sandals I looked in the cheval mirror while deciding my jewelry. The outfit cried for more than I had.

"Mom?" I knocked on her bedroom door.

"Come in.

"Oh my, you look fantastic!" Her smile went from ear to ear. I had to model for her.

Before I could respond, my mother sprayed me with a really nice perfume. She let me have free run in her jewelry box. I took her rhinestone dangle earrings about two inches long, the narrow choker and bracelet to match. Mom selected just one silver ring for my left hand.

"Maybe some man will put a diamond here one day." She was teasing and I just let it go.

The doorbell rang as I gave my small purse a last minute check. It was only ten 'til eight.

"I'll get it, Mom." I expected Ted and opened the front door with a smile and a curtsey.

"Hello young lady, is your mother home," Mr. Brendrict was chuckling over his little joke.

"Good evening, sir. She is, but not quite ready. Please come in?" I invited. Mr. Brendrict carried a white box - obviously a corsage for mom.

"You look positively lovely tonight, Melissa. Who's the lucky boy to have you accept his invitation, one of football players?

"I don't think you know him. He's not a student at Morris Academy, sir."

"Who then?"

"Jasmine's brother is taking me." That seemed to puzzle him for only a few seconds. A frown wrinkled his brow, but vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

"Theo Jade?" he questioned, with disbelief resonating in his voice.

"Yes, sir. Ted Jade." The frown returned and stayed. I did not choose to defend my choice and he didn't question it further.

Mom left with him five minutes later, leaving me alone to become increasingly nervous about just what I was doing. That Ted was five minutes late didn't help.

"Good evening, sir," I curtseyed, but had to force the smile I displayed when I opened the door.

"Good evening to you too, Melissa." Ted's smile turned slack jawed.

"Your hair!" he exclaimed. "What happened to the cute bob?" he blurted. I wanted to disappear into the woodwork. I just wrinkled my lips and stood there, feeling stupid. I felt like crying too.

Throwing inhibitions to the wind, Ted scooped me into his arms and hugged me close.

"I just love it." He kissed me on the lips. "I love you for doing this." Huh? I was being blonde again.

"When Jazz did her hair like yours, I was wishing she wasn't my sister and a few years older." Ted started fingering my braids and causing the bells to ring. "Very, very nice. Thank you, Melissa." I was more nervous than before after realizing the implications of all he'd said about Jasmine's hair the year before.

"This is for you," Ted extended the corsage box once he'd enough of playing with my hair, for the moment. Opening the box I found a grouping of small white flowers, which looked much different than any I'd ever seen before.

"Mmm." I said holding them close to my nose. "They're gorgeous. What are they?"

"Orchids," Ted informed.

"Beautiful. Thank you," I puckered for a kiss.

"Put them on me please?" I flashed my long red nails. "I could never work the pin with these." He kissed my nails before I'd the chance to lower them. Geezch, I was all goose bumps, especially when his hand delicately went inside my bodice to press the lace covering my breast so he could work the pin without jabbing me with it.

Tuning out all but one light and checking that our porch light was on, I locked up and walked to the car.

"What happened to your Mercedes?" I asked, seeing the small, dark green, convertible sports car.

"Disappointed? I put it in the shop for a tune-up. Tina's free this weekend and loaned me her Viper." He tended my door.

If there is a way to get in such a low car gracefully while wearing five-inch heels and a short, full-skirted dress, I don't know it. I was sure, by the direction his eyes seemed focused, that I put on a nice leg show for Ted.

I couldn't help, but to admire the white leather upholstery of the car and its, over-all sexy appearance.

"How much... if I'm not sounding gauche, does a car like this cost, Ted?" With the gears shift consol between the seats, there was no question of sitting close to him.

"Tina said it was seventy-two when I asked, plus tax, tags and title."

"Yikes! I'll never afford one like this! Seventy-two thousand dollars, you can buy a house with that!" I exclaimed.

"Well other places, not here," Ted countered.

The nightclub had valet parking, but Ted wouldn't let the boys touch Tina's car and I couldn't say I blamed him. I wouldn't have. He helped me out then left me to wait while he parked.

Some of the arrivals I'd seen, but didn't know while I waited. I recognized one of the majorettes in the band; she smiled and curtseyed, but didn't speak to me.

I took Ted's arm to be escorted inside.

"Quite a change from when I attended. We held dances in the gym then, even the senior prom."

"Shhh!" I cautioned. "Don't tell your age."

Mom had insisted that I take dance lessons over the summer and, for the first time, I was thankful she had. We got right into it when we entered to ballroom. Ted is a great dancer. The song wasn't finished when I became very aware that the room was deathly quiet, nothing but the band, the clicking of my heels, clacking of my silver beads and the loud ringing of the bells on the ends of my thrashing braids filled the air.

"We're the center of attention," Ted whispered as the song ended.

"I know. Lots of questions; give me a kiss and well leave the dance floor." He did, we did, with the room quiet until we moved.

We found Pam and Kitten first and introduced our dates. Mrs. Stinson came over to introduce her husband.

"You did extremely well today, Melissa."

"Thank you, ma'am," I curtseyed.

"You did a heck of a lot better than that. Don't sell this mama short! She was there and had her ass in gear for Jazzi. Melissa is one kewl chick!" Kitten proclaimed. "Tell you, Mrs. Stinson, Melissa is one cool, with it, chick."

 

 

 

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© 2001 by Karen Anne Summerfield. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.