If You Really Loved Me Page 2

  “Pretty good,” Destini called back. “Just one more class.”

  “Yeah, hooray!” he cried. “Then we’re outta here.” He was still smiling. He was looking at her. He wasn’t acting like most boys, as if she were an insect to be stepped over.

  Waiting for the bus to take her home, Destini was unreasonably cheered. She was not nearly as bitter as she had been this morning. Usually her mother did not get home until around seven and then started dinner. And usually Destini did not do much to help her. “Tonight will be different,” Destini thought. She felt upbeat. She would surprise Mom by cutting up the salad and boiling the pasta. When Mom got home, almost everything would be ready. All Mom would need to do is add the cooked shrimp in the refrigerator and the dressing.

  At home, Destini went to her room, then sat down with the Tubman High yearbook from last year. You could consult the index to find where each student was pictured. Every year the seniors got big, full-color photos, but the underclass kids were photographed too. The athletes had many photos, but Destini was lucky to get her one dismal little sophomore photo. Destini hated the picture. She looked even plainer and stupider than she really was. But Destini was not interested in her own photo. She was looking for pictures of Tyron.

  Tyron looked nice in his photo. He was smiling and looking almost handsome. He also played football, so there were some great action photos of him. One showed him hurling the football and he looked great. Destini looked at the pictures of Tyron, over and over again. She wondered what was ahead.

  Would he have looked into her eyes so steadily and smiled if he wasn’t at least a little bit interested?

  Destini walked over to her bedroom mirror and tried to smooth down her frizzy hair. She went to her mom’s room and used some of her hair spray. That seemed to help a little. Then Destini went back to her closet to search for something nice to wear tomorrow. Destini liked red, so she picked a red sweater that fit her snugly. She found her best pair of jeans, the ones that showed off her figure. Then Destini realized Mom would be home soon, and she hurried to the kitchen to start the dinner and set the table.

  “Hi Mom!” Destini greeted her mother as she came in.

  “What on earth!” Mom cried out. “I have died and gone to heaven! Hallelujah! Dinner is ready and the table is set. Child, what is going on? Have you lost your mind?”

  “Mommm,” Destini giggled. “I just wanted to do something nice for you ’cause I’ve been giving you a hard time. I know I can be a pain in the behind.”

  “Destini, baby,” Mom said, “this is just so nice. I am very tired tonight and I was dreading fixing dinner.”

  “Well, I had a good day, Mom,” Destini announced. “My history teacher, Ms. McDowell, she was really nice. She told me I’m smart but I need to study more and I’m going to. I’m going to read the whole chapter she assigned tonight” Destini did not tell her mother the real reason she was so elated. Mom would not be thrilled. She was very leery of men and boys.

  After dinner, Destini called Alonee Lennox. Destini had no close girlfriends at Tubman, but once in a while she talked to Alonee.

  “Whatcha doing, Alonee?” she asked.

  “Reading ‘The String’ for English,” Alonee replied.

  “I made dinner for my mom. She was really thrilled,” Destini told Alonee. “Mom works so hard.”

  “Good for you,” Alonee encouraged her.

  “Alonee,” Destini went on, “reason I called . . . some guy from school was kinda giving me the once-over. He was smiling at me and stuff, and I think maybe he wants to be friends or something. Do you know Tyron Becker?”

  Alonee said nothing for a second or two, then she said in a cautious voice, “I don’t know him really well, but he’s close with Marko Lane. Marko is one of the jokers who mess up a lot of classes. I’m not real crazy about him.”

  “Yeah,” Destini agreed. “He was messing around in English today, huh?”

  “The fly thing. Poor Mr. Pippin,” Alonee said.

  “I was wondering,” Destini probed, “I suppose Tyron has a girlfriend . . . ”

  “No, I’ve never seen him steady with anybody,” Alonee answered. “He doesn’t seem to have a big social life.”

  “That makes two of us, huh? I mean Tyron and me,” Destini asked. “Well, anyways, I guess I better go to bed and get my beauty sleep. Night, Alonee.”

  Destini flopped into bed and hugged her pillow. Tyron didn’t have a girlfriend! She kept playing that fact over and over in her mind.

  He didn’t have a girlfriend. Not a steady one.

  Destini couldn’t go to sleep. She lay there dreaming. She wondered what kind of music Tyron liked. What kind of food did he like—burgers, pizza, chicken? Tyron didn’t dress well, at least not as well as Marko did. Marko always looked great. But sometimes it looked like Tyron was wearing some of Marko’s old clothes. They didn’t fit just right. Marko was leaner than Tyron and the clothing looked tight on Tyron. Thinking about that made Destini a little sad. Poor Tyron. He wanted to wear great clothes, but his family couldn’t afford them. Destini read her history assignment and finally went to sleep, dreaming about Tyron.

  Getting out of bed for school the next morning was no problem for Destini. She showered and used the new body wash that smelled of vanilla. Then she slipped on her red sweater and the jeans. She came to the kitchen to eat breakfast in a happy mood.

  “Well, it’s good to see you smiling in the morning, girl,” Mom greeted.

  “Yeah Mom, I’ve just decided to have a better attitude,” Destini declared.

  “Oh, I heard from your father yesterday,” Mom reported. “He’d been at the racetrack again and lo and behold he won for a change. The big spender handed me a coupla hundred dollars. He told me to give you a twenty so you can buy something nice.”

  Destini took the twenty dollar bill and asked, “Did he want to know how I was doing in school?”

  “He was kinda drunk, baby,” Mom declared sadly. “He wasn’t making much sense. Now, when he gets sober, he’ll remember he gave away all that money he won on the ponies and he’ll come around wanting it back, but he’ll be barking up the wrong tree. I’m giving it to the gas and the electric company and the landlord.”

  A little later, as she walked to the bus stop, Destini thought about her father. He had two personalities. Sober, he was lazy and sad and very bitter. When he drank, he was jovial and generous. Sober or drunk, you could never depend on him. By the time Destini was seven years old, he didn’t live at the house anymore. She saw him about six times a year. He never seemed interested in being a husband or a father.

  As soon as Destini got off the bus at school, she looked for Tyron. He was with Marko and Jasmine and some others, and they were all laughing. Destini drew close to the noisy little group. Tyron turned at once and called out, “Hey Destini, like your sweater—it’s hot!”

  “Thanks,” Destini replied, her heart rushing. “He likes me!” she thought. That’s what boys do when they like a girl. They give compliments. That always happened to other girls but had not happened to Destini. And now it was her turn.

  Marko and Tyron went off to PE class, and Destini found herself alone with Jasmine. Jasmine intimidated her. She was so beautiful and she didn’t seem real nice.

  “Looks like Tyron likes you, girl,” she commented.

  “He’s really nice,” Destini responded.

  “Well, he’s got his strong points. He’s really loyal to Marko. Marko couldn’t have a better friend than Tyron,” Jasmine offered.

  “You like Marko a lot, huh Jasmine?” Destini asked.

  “You know what, girl?” Jasmine asserted. “Marko can’t do enough for me. He takes me to great places and buys me things. He’s one awesome dude. His father, he’s the man in town. He helps Marko out a lot. Now Tyron, he comes from a poor family. They got four kids and they’re struggling. They live in the apartments over on Grant Street. Not such nice digs, you know?”

  Destini thought it must b
e hard for Tyron to come from a family with financial problems. Destini’s mother worked hard and earned pretty good money, so they had enough to get by.

  At the end of the school day, as Destini was going to the bus stop, she saw Tyron coming toward her. “Where you off to, babe?” he asked.

  “Going to take the bus home,” Destini answered.

  “No need to do that today,” Tyron offered. “My brother has the car. Come on.”

  Destini walked with Tyron to an ancient Chevrolet station wagon with crunched fenders. “My brother Bennie,” Tyron introduced the young man at the wheel.

  “Hi Bennie,” Destini greeted him.

  Tyron opened the back door and got in with Destini. “You can sit with me, babe,” he urged.

  When the car was in motion Tyron asked, “You gotta be home right away, babe?”

  “Well, Mom doesn’t get in until seven, but I usually make dinner and stuff, so I should be home by six. She works really hard and she appreciates the help,” Destini responded.

  “That’s sweet,” Tyron commented. “It’s going on four, so we got plenty time. Would you like to stop for something to eat? They got these great little egg rolls at a place down the street. Real cheap too.”

  “Sounds like fun,” Destini agreed.

  They crossed Grant Avenue and pulled alongside a frame building with a sign outside that read “Fish House.” It was shabby looking. Geraniums used to grow in pots around the building, but somebody forgot to water them and now they were all dead.

  The place wasn’t bad inside but there were few customers. The three of them ordered, and the waitress brought egg rolls and sodas. Destini remembered Jasmine telling her how poor Tyron’s family was, so she insisted, “I’m paying for mine.”

  “Okay, babe,” Tyron agreed. Bennie ate twelve egg rolls, tossing them in his mouth like gum drops. He was very overweight. He was twenty years old but he looked much older.

  “Like I said, Destini,” Tyron started saying, “you sure do look good in that sweater. You need to wear that a lot. It really is your color. Wild cherry red.”

  Destini had heard boys saying things like that to girls like Sereeta and Carissa, but none ever talked to her like that. She felt amazing. “Thanks,” Destini responded.

  “So this is how it is” Destini thought. Having a little snack with your boyfriend, him smiling at you and giving you compliments. Feeling desirable to a boy. Feeling special.

  Destini recalled reading a fairy tale when she was little. The story was about a little girl who was wandering down the street on Christmas Eve. She had nothing to eat and nowhere to go. The little girl looked in the window where there were joy and warmth but she couldn’t get in. The little girl was on the outside looking in, and there was no way she could join the festivities.

  That’s how Destini had felt. Always outside the window where they were having fun, her heart frozen. Now, she was no longer the outsider, looking in at the pretty lights and the warmth and the dancing.

  Tyron reached across the table and covered Destini’s hand with his. “Look at this little hand,” he urged his brother. “Isn’t she a sweet little thing?”

  Bennie smiled and ate some more egg rolls.

  “I like you, Destini,” Tyron told her. “I really like you. What do you say about that? Is it okay for me to like you? You better think long and hard about that. You think you could like me back? I wouldn’t want to get close to you and then find out you didn’t like me back.”

  “I like you too, Tyron,” Destini admitted. “I’ve been thinking of you all the time since we talked yesterday and you gave me kind of a special look. I found your pictures in the Tubman yearbook, all those great pictures of you playing football. Boy, I never thought a football player would like me!”

  “Well, a football player likes you a lot, girl,” Tyron declared. He picked up her hand and kissed it. “We used to live next door to Polish people. That was their custom. The men kissed the lady’s hand.” Destini felt as though she had wandered into a magical kingdom.

  When Bennie and Tryon dropped her off at her house, she ran inside and hurried to make dinner. They had stayed at the little restaurant longer than planned. Mom would be home in about forty-five minutes.

  Destini cooked the spaghetti and cut up tomatoes and cucumbers for the salad. She found a pudding mix in the cupboard to make dessert. When her mother came in the door, everything was ready.

  “Mom,” Destini said, “before we eat, come and sit with me on the sofa for a minute. There’s something I want to tell you. I’ve got news!”

  Mom walked over to the sofa and sank into it, tiredly. “I may never get out of this sofa,” Mom sighed, kicking off her shoes. “I am beat! So what’s the news, baby?”

  “Mom, I got a boyfriend. I really have a boyfriend. Can you believe it? This really nice guy said he likes me a lot and he asked me if I could like him back and I said yes, yes, yes! I’m so excited, Mom!” Destini bubbled.

  Mom did not look as happy as Destini. “Who is he?” her mother demanded. “I hope he’s not some thirty-year-old bum you met on the Internet.”

  “Oh Mom!” Destini protested. “He’s a junior at Tubman, like me. His name is Tyron Becker and he’s really, really nice. Oh Mom, please be happy for me, ’cause I’m walkin’ on air!”

  “Well, baby, just don’t get carried away,” Mom insisted slowly. “Just take it slow. Some boys try to take advantage of a girl, and don’t you let him do that. I’m glad you’re happy, child. But just be careful. Keep your eyes wide open. Just remember this. I was nineteen when I fell in love with your father, and twenty when we got married, and even at that age, I did not have sense enough to see who he truly was. I had twinkling stars in my eyes, just like you got, girl. You are sixteen years old, Destini. You are just a baby. You are my baby and I’m tellin’ you to be careful, precious girl. You are my whole life. Y’hear what I’m saying?”

  Chapter Three

  When Destini went to school the next day, she ran into Alonee. “Alonee,” Destini cried, “I’ve got a boyfriend. Tyron said he likes me. We even went out for a little date and we had egg rolls and it was so cool.”

  “Well,” Alonee replied, “I’m happy for you if that’s what you want.”

  Destini stared at Alonee for a moment. “You don’t like Tyron, do you?” she asked.

  “Oh, it’s not that,” Alonee protested. “He’s just kind of a goof-off. I don’t dislike him or anything. Maybe him hanging around Marko all the time makes him seem worse than he is. He might be okay, Destini. I don’t want to rain on your parade. You might know stuff about him I don’t even know.”

  “Oh Alonee, he’s so nice,” Destini said. “I mean he treats me so good. He even kissed my hand!” Destini’s voice was fervent.

  Alonee changed the subject. “Hey Destini, I wanted to talk to you about something. You probably heard about this group from Pastor Bromley’s church. We’re helping out some little foster kids.”

  “I heard some kids talking about taking kids out for a fun day or something,” Destini acknowledged, “but I didn’t pay any attention to it, Alonee.”

  “Well,” Alonee started explaining, “we’re taking six kids—three boys and three girls, about ten or eleven years old—for an overnight camping trip to the mountains. There’re going to be two sets of parents to drive the vans and oversee it. We need six Tubman juniors to sort of be buddies for the kids. We’ve already got three boys and I’m taking a little girl, and Sami is taking another one, but we need one more girl. I was thinking. Would you like to join us, Destini?”

  Destini shrugged. “What would I have to do? I’m not too good around younger kids.”

  “Oh, it’ll be easy,” Alonee declared. “Just be a friend to the girl. Sit around the campfire and talk to her, let her talk to you. Some of these kids have nobody they can really talk to. They’re from foster homes and they’ve had really bad experiences . . . child abuse, abandonment. They need somebody just to be nice to them
. It would be an overnight thing. We’re leaving Friday afternoon, spending Friday night there, and coming home Saturday afternoon.”

  “I’d have to ask my mom,” Destini said.

  “Oh sure. You ask her,” Alonee agreed. “We’d sure appreciate it if you could help out, Destini. I think you’d have fun too.”

  Destini was not eager to go on the camping trip. She thought Tyron might have plans for the weekend and she wanted to be available. Destini didn’t care much for the wilderness anyway. She hated bugs, and camping out sounded dirty and dangerous. Maybe even wild animals would attack them. Destini did not want to be eaten by a mountain lion.

  At home, when Destini told her mother about the camping trip, she hoped Mom would say it was a terrible idea and she couldn’t go. Destini was really counting on Mom giving her a good out. But Mom gave her no excuse. “Destini, I am so proud of you that you would think about doing something like that. Most of those poor little kids have had a lot of hard knocks, and they’ve been through all kinds of misery. You always seemed so self-centered, girl. This just rocks me back on my heels. Baby, I am learning so much good stuff about you.”

  “Well, yeah, I’d like to help,” Destini mumbled. “But do you think it’s like dangerous to go camping in the mountains?” Destini was hoping to scare her mother into forbidding her from going. “Like, maybe there’s mountain lions or snakes . . . ”

  Mom laughed. “Dangerous!? Baby, it’s more dangerous to go down to the corner deli for a gallon of milk with the gangbangers and the drug dealers on these mean streets. I bet parents are going along on the trip and they’ll make sure you got a safe place to camp without no mountain lions sniffing around.”

  “Well, yeah,” Destini admitted. “You think I could handle some eleven-year-old kid, Mom?”

  “Baby, you were eleven just a few years ago and I think you’ll do just fine with that little girl,” Mom assured her. “She just needs a shoulder to cry on, and you got that, Destini. If you got the heart for it, go do it!”