Vengeance

een them and me is that they could go back to their high school and college reunions and show off the fact that they were the shit. I could never do that . . . not ever.

Every day of Spirit Week had been themed and a load of fun. Monday was Crazy Hair Day, Tuesday was Twinsie Tuesday, Wednesday was Pajama Day, Thursday was Beach Day, and Friday was School Colors Day, where everyone wore burgundy and gold. Now it was time for the big game. We were playing against Hiram Rhodes Revels, a school named after the first African-American to ever serve in the United States Congress. Their colors were navy and white.

The bleachers in the stadium were overflowing. It was the one game of the season where everyone showed up, including the parents, grandparents, and other various relatives of the players, the kids from the surrounding schools—including all the girls who were sharing players’ hearts and bodies—and even the school outcasts. It was the opportunity to see and be seen, the chance to make hookups with the cuties from other schools in Atlanta, and a way to ensure that you didn’t miss out on any drama that might have popped off when you were out doing something less important.

The game was tied 21–21 with less than a minute left in the fourth quarter. The cheerleaders from Powers were damn near going at it as hard with their cheers as the players were going at each other on the field. Bianca and Cherie were both cheerleaders and were prancing around the sidelines in their skorts and sweaters with PHS embroidered on them.

They were chanting:

You may be good at basketball

You may be good at track

But when it comes to football

You may as well step back.

You may be good at baseball

You may be good in school

But when it comes to football

We’re making you look like fools.

Powers has the knowledge

Powers rules the game

And once we wipe the grass with you

You’re headed home in shame.

Go Tigers! Go Tigers! Go Tigers, Go!

The school band was playing the instrumental version of “Victory” by Kool and the Gang as Jonovan, who was actually the school mascot, danced in front of them. It was hilarious, and I wondered if he was hot under that costume. He had actually asked my advice when they first asked him to be the mascot. He was on the fence about it but didn’t want to play in the school band during high school. He had played the trumpet in middle school and was tired of all the practice time involved. But he still enjoyed participating. I told him that it seemed like being the mascot would be the best of both worlds. He didn’t have to practice with the band—or practice the trumpet at home—and all he had to do was dance and still be able to hang around everyone and get caught up in the excitement at the games. He decided to agree to be the mascot for the football season and then revisit it for basketball in the spring. The good part was that since he was wearing a costume, someone else could take over without missing a beat.

The band kicked into “Lean on Me” by Club Nouveau as the Tigers got ready to try to pull a Hail Mary, a term coined by Roger Staubach but arguably dates back to 1922, when Notre Dame played Georgia Tech and prayed a Hail Mary before each of two fourth-down plays that resulted in touchdowns. Jonovan jokingly snatched the baton from the drum major, whose elaborate uniform was doing the most, and the two of them started doing the cabbage patch. That ignited everyone in the stands on the home team side to start doing the same. Next thing you knew people were moving from side to side and snapping their fingers . . . until the ball was snapped and then the music, the dancing, the talking all stopped.

Malcolm Briggs, better known as “Golden Arm,” grabbed the ball in the snap, took four quick steps back, and threw a thirty-nine-yard pass into the end zone that was caught by Cedric Parrish, better known as “the Steel Curtain,” due to his size and agility. It took about two seconds for everyone to realize that they had won the game before complete pandemonium started.

Even I was excited and I really didn’t have shit to do with the accomplishment. That is what’s so amazing about school spirit. Winning takes a lot of work and effort on the parts of various people, but everyone gets to celebrate the triumph. I was on the third row of the bleachers and rushed down to the field, almost getting trampled by the others who didn’t have shit to do with winning, either. The key players were being lifted up and tossed around like rag dolls instead of the two-hundred-plus pounds they were actually carrying. Some players had three to four girls—their own rosters—trying to fling their arms around their necks and shower them with kisses. I was trying to find Bianca and Cherie, since we were planning to attend a party together. I didn’t want to get lost in the madness, so it was better to hook up with them then.

Jonovan walked past me in his costume and roared at me. I gave him a high five with my hand against his paw but didn’t engage in conversation. The idea was for him to really pretend to be a tiger, and tigers don’t speak. He had to act out all of his emotions and speak through his movements.

I did ask, “Did you get where the cheerleaders went?”

He pointed his right paw toward the other side of the mass of people.

“Thanks.” I walked off and started pushing my way through the crowd again.

I eventually found them and, looking back on it, searching for them was the worst mistake of my entire life. If I had gone back home that night instead of trying to hang out with them, my life would have taken a much different turn.

* * *

I stared at Marcella and decided that I couldn’t go any further.

“What happened next?” she asked. “Take your time, Caprice.”