Fiction Friday: Grammar Lesson

I wanted to share some of what I’m working on in school in today’s post. Enjoy! – SBG

“Don’t take no shit off none of those girls, Kyra,” Aunt Neeta warned.

Kyra’s gaze was fixed on the mob of teenagers flooding into Central High School. She would be late for class if she didn’t hurry. “I know, Aunt Neeta, I know.”

“I’m serious.” Neeta’s tone was grave. “You let somebody think they can disrespect you, they’ll do for the next four years just cuz they know they can. One of those lil heffas comes at you wrong, beat the brakes off her ass. You understand me?”

This wasn’t a casual warning. Her aunt wouldn’t let her out of the car until she was sure they were on the same page. Kyra turned in her seat to face Neeta’s raised brow and stern expression. “Yes ma’am.”

Neeta smiled. “Good. You got your bus pass to get the shop after school, right?”

“Yup.”

“Alright. Have a good first day of school, baby.”

Kyra made it to sixth period English without incident.

Her attention span drifted into and out of Mrs. Washington’s explanation of the syllabus, until the sound of her name pierced through her thoughts. “Kyra James? Can you read the final paragraph of the syllabus please?” Kyra sighed, quickly finding her place on the sheet in front of her and reading the absence and late assignment policy out loud. As she read, she heard snickers from the back of the classroom. Was the laughter directed at her? Nah. She was just paranoid. Sure Central was rumored to be one of the rougher schools in the district, but she was almost through an entire school day and hadn’t seen or heard of a single fight. Let her mother and Neeta tell it, she was going to the school from Lean on Me.

“Excuse me, Miss…Morgan,” Mrs. Washington directed toward the chatter. Before she could issue her reprimand, a security guard appeared at the door, asking the teacher to step into the hallway briefly.

Kyra leaned back in her seat and cracked open the door-stopper heavy English book in front of her browsed the pages, deciding to get a head start on the first act of Romeo and Juliet. She was halfway down the first page before a high pitched voice broke her concentration. “Ay. Girl.”

She might not be talking to you. Kyra continued reading.

“You. Kyra. I know you hear me talking to you.”

Kyra rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. Why, Lord? It’s been smooth sailing all day and now this? She sighed and turned to her offender. Kyra’s gaze swept quickly over her unfamiliar features. Miss Morgan wasn’t from around her way, that was for sure. It looked like they were about the same height, though the girl had a clear weight advantage over Kyra’s 5’2″ 110-pound frame. Just great. “Yeah?”

“Why you talk like dat?”

“Like what?”

Miss Morgan let out her high pitched giggle. “Like a stuck up lil’ white bitch. You must come from one a’ them boogie private schools, huh?”

Kyra’s blood boiled. Bitch. She just called me a bitch. She recalled Aunt Neeta’s warning and the words flew out of her mouth before she could stop them. “Well, better than sounding like an ignorant bitch. Guess they didn’t teach enunciation at your middle school, huh?”

Laughter erupted from a few corners of the room as Mrs. Washington returned to the classroom. Sensing tension, her eyes went from Kyra to the back of the classroom. “Kyra? Shanice? Is there a problem?” she asked the girls.

Kyra turned forward and settled into her seat. She heard a similar shuffling in the back of the classroom. Shanice’s voice was clear and calm as she replied “No problem.” Oh, there was a big problem. This girl was gonna kick her ass. Why the hell didn’t she keep her mouth shut? The bell rang and there was nowhere to go but out the door. Did she dart out or move slowly and let Shanice walk out first? Ugh. Either way, she’d look like a punk. She waited for as long as she could without arousing suspicion. When Shanice didn’t walk by, Kyra gathered her things, her knuckles trembling as she clutched her English book, and exited the classroom.

The hallway looked like death row. Kyra’s heart pounded in her ears, blasting over the loud chatter, and she swore she could feel her veins throbbing with blood. Dampness threatened to soak through the armpits of her T-shirt. To keep her mind from racing she counted her steps. One. Two. Three. Four. She didn’t get to five before two palms landed in the middle of her back, lunging her body forward. Kyra stumbled, catching her balance on her toes.

White noise drowned out the surrounding sounds. A surge of heat tingled at the tip of her toes as she tightened her grip on her English book, and rose to the top of her head. With a quick pivot, she spun to her left, slamming the book into Shanice’s cheek with a loud smack.

Kyra immediately found her advantage, pushing Shanice to floor and pouncing on top of her. Her opponent squirmed beneath her, but Kyra used every pound on her body to keep Shanice pinned. Her tiny fists flew, landing four solid punches to Shanice’s face before thick fingers wrapped around her arms, pulling her away. Kyra kicked and flailed as her legs slid across the floor. “Alright Iron Mike, that’s enough” she heard a male voice say as he pulled her to her feet, “to the principal’s office you go.”

Kyra knew what was coming when she walked into her mother’s hair salon after school. Her mother’s angry glare met her at the door. “You,” she pointed at Kyra, “In the back. Now.” Kyra sighed as she made her way to her mother’s office in the back of the shop. On the way, she walked by Neeta’s station and caught her eye. Her brows were raised, a question on her face: You kick her ass? Kyra met her gaze with a subtle nod. Neeta smiled and nodded before going back to pressing her client’s hair and Kyra smiled. She’d done good.