Part 14 (1/2)
”Go ahead!” Kelsey said. ”Tell them! Guess what? They agree with me. They'd never say it to your face, though, because unlike some people at this table, they know when to shut the h.e.l.l up.”
”Well, I never,” said my mother.
”You're going to regret this,” said Logan to me.
”Is that a threat?” I asked.
”Maybe,” he said.
”Mom! He just threatened me!”
”He's trying to help you,” said my mother. ”Just like I am!”
”I don't believe this,” I wailed.
”Let's go,” said Kelsey, exiting the booth so that I could scoot out. She took my hand.
My mother grabbed my other hand. ”Do not leave. If you know what's good for you, do not leave this table, young lady. We're doing this for your own good, m'ija.”
”Let go of me,” I said. ”I do know what's good for me. And it's not sitting here being attacked by you in front of my friends. I think you're the one who needs therapy, not me!”
I pulled my hand away from her. Her nails were dug in so deeply they left long scratches on the back of my hand. I hurried with Kelsey out of the restaurant. My mother called out after me one or two times, but mercifully did not follow. We rushed to my Land Rover, and climbed in, locking the doors behind us.
”What about your car?” I asked her.
”I'll get it later.”
”Where do you want to go?”
”I don't know. Just drive.”
I pulled the car onto Academy Boulevard, shaking from rage and humiliation, and headed West. Kelsey and I vented for a few minutes about the horrible lunch, and then got to talking about the odd coincidence of the South Valley High team's performance, given the events in my life. We also talked about how good they were.
”How about a movie?” I asked. ”I feel like sitting in the dark, in someone else's world for a while, far from my mother.”
”Sounds good.”
I guided the car toward out favorite theaters, not knowing exactly what was showing, but willing to see just about anything at that moment.
”So you think all these coincidences mean something?” I asked her, even though I sort of knew they did, in my gut.
”Seems like it, but who knows?” she asked. ”Anything could be a coincidence, kind of like horoscopes, if you think about it hard enough. People can pretty much justify just about anything, don't you think?”
”Here,” I said. ”Turn on the radio. Let's see what's on. We'll try to make it a coincidence. Maybe you're right.”
”Just to a random station?”
”Yeah, FM. Just turn it on.”
She did, and to our amus.e.m.e.nt - and a bit creepily, I might add - Usher's ”You Make Me Wanna” was on. You make me wanna leave the one I'm with, start a new relations.h.i.+p with you, this is what you do....
”Okay, fine,” I said, with a little thrill. ”Maybe it's all what we make of it, but you have to admit, that song is totally fitting for me right now.”
”Then that would mean that all the coincidences on earth are about you,” complained Kelsey.
”True. But maybe they are right now.”
”Or maybe millions of people get together and break up each and every day,” she huffed, ”which is why that's what every pop song in the world is about.”
”True.”
”Let's change it to a random station and see if it's still something we can justify,” she said.
Kelsey spun the dial randomly, and the song came back as ”Gangsta Love,” by Snoop Dogg.
We both laughed at this one.
”Too weird,” she said. ”Then again, it could just be sad that the so-called gangsta culture is something big corporations glamorize for a profit as a conspiracy to keep people down. Maybe it's nothing more than that.”
”Do it again,” I cried.
This time, the song was ”Lean Like a Cholo.”
”See?” said Kelsey. ”You can find personal meaning in everything, once you start looking for it. Or corporate appropriation of barrio culture.”
”So you're saying the coincidences don't really mean anything?” I asked her.
”Yeah. I think so.”
”Do it one more time, and the next song will be the answer from the universe to the question, 'do your coincidences mean anything,' I said.”
Kelsey did as I asked, and the song, shockingly, came up as the same one the dance team from South Valley High had used.
We looked at each other, stunned.
”Okay, that's maybe a little creepy,” she said.
”Or not,” I told her. ”Depending on how you look at it. Maybe it's comforting. Maybe someone's looking out for me.”
”Yeah,” she said with a snort. ”Me. I'm looking out for you.”
I smiled at her, grateful. ”Yeah. And I love you for it.”
”Dork,” she said, and my shaking, like my rage, disappeared in a laugh.
Demetrio texted me during the movie. I was so happy to hear from him that I walked out of the darkened theater to call him from the hallway. I told him all about the lunch, and the coincidences, and the movie, and asked him what he was up to. He said he had some time off work and would love to meet us for ”coffee or whatever you fancy people do on Sunday afternoons.” I agreed we'd meet him at a cafe near the theater, after the movie was out. When I told Kelsey, however, she said she needed to get home to do some studying, and asked that I take her to her car instead. I did just that, and called Demetrio to ask if he could meet me at the Starbucks near Academy and Tramway instead, as it was closer to my house. He agreed, but emphasized he'd have to keep it short because of his curfew.
I arrived after he did, and found him waiting in one of the velvet armchairs just inside the door. He bounded up when I came in, and seemed a little goofy and overly happy. I guess the news about Logan had cheered him.