Page 7 of Devanté
Then what, Blake?
“How are your grades?” Mom’s voice turned my thoughts into puffs of smoke vanishing in the air.
“Good. I have a presentation in my marketing strategies class. I think I’m gonna nail it.” My words flowed out like water. “I’m tackling color theory but more specifically the color blue. It’s actually most people’s favorite color. So many companies use it in their branding because it has a safe, calming effect on the brain. It gives off the feeling of trustworthiness, which is why…”
“My favorite color is blush pink. Something nice and feminine.” Mom smiled at me.
“I know what your favorite color is, Ma.”
“So how does blush pink fit into marketing? Hmm?” Another perfect red smile curved her full lips up.
My mother was so different from me that I sometimes wondered how I was even her child. She had light brown skin the color of sand while I was russet brown and dusted with cinnamon like my daddy. Where her nose was straight along the bridge with a soft button tip, mine was strong and bold telling of my likely West African ancestors. Her curls were soft, loose, and hanging while mine were tightly coiled and grew toward the sun like sunflower petals when it wasn’t straightened like it was now. She was tall and slender never going above a size six while I was…well, fluffy and full at a size sixteen. Our eyes though…they were the same clear brown like gemstones and our lips were the same full pillowy pairs.
I used to want to look like her. I used to be willing to do almost anything to look like her until my father helped me see the beauty in my own skin. In my own body. In my own smile. It was still tough being the daughter of former CoverGirl and runway model Yelinda Remington. Especially when I didn’t turn out the way she thought her only daughter would.
“Um…blush pink is in the pink family so it evokes feelings of calm. Dusty pink or blush can signify femininity and romance,” I told her, pushing my food around on the plate. She seemed pleased with that answer and went back to chattering while ignoring my excitement about my marketing presentation on the color blue.
Maybe it wasn’t as riveting as I thought.
Mom managed to sit and talk to me for almost an hour after dinner. I was shocked. Usually, she was done by the half-hour mark. This time, I let her talk without butting in to make sure my self-esteem wasn’t trampled like a bug. She was perfectly content to slap me across the face with backhanded compliments for her entire stay and for some reason I took it all.
When she got ready to go, I hugged her and kissed her cheek, still unable to tell her how deeply her words cut or how many times during dinner I had to hold back burning tears. Instead, I told her I couldn’t wait for her to visit again and that I’d give Devanté her best when I saw him. When the door closed behind her, my shoulders sagged, my smile fell, and tears blurred my vision.
Dishes clanked together making angry sounds as I loaded the dishwasher. The cabinet doors clapped every time I closed them with extra force. The silverware clattered against each other, tines and handles fighting for space. I was creating a cacophony of frustration. I had to get out of that apartment before I self-destructed.
I grabbed my purse and cell phone then walked to the basketball game. If left to my own devices, I would have stewed in miserable feelings of inadequacy. Fuck that. I spent too many years at home doing that shit.
I made my way into the gym and stood at the propped open double doors scanning the dense and noisy crowd. Prickles flooded my hands pushing waves of throbbing tingles through to my fingertips. I found my phone and texted Devanté. Why hadn’t I done that on the way here?
Me: Hey. I decided to come to the game. You still here?
D: Yo! Are you serious? Where are you? I’m getting snacks for Gabi and her friends.
Me: Side double doors.
I lifted my eyes from the phone and looked around. Then I spotted him. A tall pillar fashioned from glossy onyx with a bright white smile and an ease about him that made me forget there were tons of other people in the gym. His arms were full of snacks and in his hands, he held two cans of soda. He made his way to me on long muscular legs that ate up the space between us in no time.
“What made you come out?” He asked, raising his voice above the bass from the music and the loud chatter from the crowds.
“Dinner with Mom was awful.” I ran a hand through my thick ponytail, letting the straightened hair slip through my fingers. His face fell a little and he nodded his understanding. He knew how tense my relationship with my mother was.
“Come on, you can sit with us. We’re right over here. It’ll be good to show face around Gabi and her girls anyway. I found out they have a little secret club. Kinda like a sorority.” We started toward the bleachers.
“Really?” I said, twisting my lips to the side.
“Yeah. They’re on some Skull and Bones shit,” he chuckled. “But they pool their resources and it helps them excel.”
“Sounds cool I guess.” We approached the vertical climb to the bleachers and Devanté offered me his free hand. I took it and immediately felt a pair of eyes piercing into me. I looked up to see two hazel lasers on my face, scanning. Judging. “Hey, Gabi,” I forced a polite smile.
You’re All I Needby Method Man and Mary J. Blige pumped through the gym, bouncing off every surface, flooding the awkward greeting with tension. Gabi’s cheeks lifted and her lips curved but that wasn’t a damn smile on her face. Smiles were soft flowers. Gabi’s face was a jagged rock.
I followed her line of sight to my hand in Devanté’s and quickly shook his grasp loose. I lost count of how many times girls got jealous of my friendship with him. In the eyes of the world, he was a prince and I was a peasant.
“Look who decided to come hang out,” he said, his voice all smiles and warmth. He never treated me like a peasant. I wondered if he knew he was out of my league even on a friendship level. If he did, he never let on. Ever since we were eight, he treated me like I was an extension of him. He looked out for me and pulled me up when I was down. That kind of loyalty and kindness was unmatched. I never wanted to think of a life without him in it.
“How nice,” Gabi chirped, sliding over on the bleachers for Devanté to sit beside her. The two plain-faced girls on her left slid down too. They both eyed me with equal disdain.
I tugged on the hem of my sweatshirt and pressed my lips into a line. The way they were all sitting made it impossible for me to squeeze in anywhere. Heat pricked the apples of my cheeks then spiraled down my chin, dripping down my neck.
