Saturday morning, at around eight o'clock, I was figuring how I was going to get my hair super straight in a matter of forty five minutes. It probably wasn't a good idea for me to have even walked out of the hotel room without some type of head protection, but that was a decision I didn't make, and couldn't keep pondering on it. Nia was in my room getting ready because Alisha per usual, had taken up all the space in the bathroom. My outfit was on, my make up was on, and the only thing left was to do my hair. I hadn't brought any wigs with me at all to college, which was a dumb idea. I've been relying on sew ins and clip ins whenever I needed the extra length, and times like this I regretted leaving my secret stash in the brown cardboard box near the closet of my childhood room.
"I say just bun it up." Nia spoke as she pushed her face against the mirror, the wand of her mascara brush moving in an up and down motion against her eyelash. I made a face at her. She was dressed to the nines in a brown/burgundy sweater, a pair of distressed jeans, and thigh high boots to match. Her hair was pin curled in a way that framed her face nicely.
And she wanted to tell me to bun it up?
I rolled my eyes at her and passed the flat iron through the small section of hair for what felt like the hundredth time. I know, I know; too much heat wasn't good for my hair, but for some reason this flat iron wasn't doing the job I wanted it to do.
"Sage, we don't have all day. Unless you're trying to wait for an Uber, we need to get going. Martina was nice enough to get us a van for the ride there, and I don't want to keep her waiting. You know how she's been lately." Nia began. I nodded--I did know how she's been lately. It seems as the semester went by, she was becoming more and more like Coach Liz. She was yelling a lot more, and she was a lot harsher when it came to telling us how we were doing in the half time routine and the different stands. I had been lucky enough to stay out of her wrath, and the last thing I needed was her on my back about being late to the meet and greet. Deciding my hair would just have to have some kinks in it, I tucked a few pieces behind my ear before spraying my face with some setting spray.
I fixed my choker, making sure it was placed nicely on my neck, and then sprayed my favorite Victoria Secret perfume all over my body.
It was too late for me to stress over the trivial stuff.
I had definitely taken Miami's warmer weather to my advantage with my outfit. Perhaps I had done a little too much for a meet and greet at the park, but being extra was my third language and I spoke it fluently. I stole one of Colby's shirt a couple weeks ago, and didn't find it cute until recently. It was a shirt he had bought from a boutique in DC with the slogan Maison Margiela on it. It wasn't necessarily long enough to be a t-shirt dress on it's own, so in hopes of not looking hoe-ish, I threw on a pair of shorts underneath it. And of course, I had to break in my damn near pelvic-high strappy heels that I ordered last month when it was slowly getting cold. I didn't expect DC to get cold quickly, so the purchase seemed logical. But with the amount of snow we got last week, it was clear these shoes would have to be broken in during a warmer time period.
And then we came to Miami.
By the time I was done getting ready, Alisha was done as well, so the three of us went down the elevator and towards the lobby. We were greeted by the other dancers who were ready at an earlier time seating themselves on the lobby chairs. The hotel clerk, who looked way too young to have a degree in Hospitality, seemed to be enjoying the view of the college students in front of him. His eyes flickered back and forth from the front of the lobby to the back, taking in everyone's presence. He had a smile on his face, and I'm sure it was part of his job description to be smiling all the time, but I could see past his little innocent facade.
"How much you want to bet he probably has slept with way too many hotel customers?" I questioned Nia and Alisha, nodding my head in the direction of the hotel clerk. "He looks like the type to call your hotel room on accident." Alisha spoke, emphasizing the word accident to show sarcasm. I shrugged. It could be true, or he could be a really young teenager who was just lucky enough to have this job. Either way, he was getting some regardless.
The weather outside was delightful, much like it said it would be on my weather app.
As we arrived, it was clear that this was a big deal. The meet and greet wasn't until a little bit later, but already we could see a growing crowd of people. Some of them were wearing Bison gear, which I thought was strange considering we were in Miami. Others had gone a different route and decided to dress up. Overall, the crowd was somewhat of a mix with black people dominating the group. I mean, what else did we expect? We did go to an HBCU, and we did only play against predominantly black colleges so it wasn't like we expected a major surplus of white people, Asians, and the likewise.
"You guys, try to behave yourself. Everything that you do in front of this crowd, is a reflection of the Bisonette brand. Just because Coach Liz isn't here, doesn't mean to act up. I have the authority to cut anyone, and I will do it if I see you guys acting a fool. Do I make myself clear?" Martina was perched on one of the seats in the front, and as she spoke her eyes darted between each and every dancer. I couldn't help but think that she was talking about Carmen and I's situation in particular, and I wish I could assure her that none of that silly business would be happening anytime soon.
I had the perfect plan to fuck up her mood as soon as we got back to DC, and all I needed was for her to get slick with me just once this trip. I needed all the confirmation I could get.
The van door opened, and we quickly piled out of the musty van and into the beautiful weather.
As the first person stepped out of the van, the crowd that had been waiting erupted in a fit of cheers, and as if I was walking the red carpet and tons of paparazzi were pointing their cameras at me, a wide smile braced my face. Nia and Alisha grabbed a hold to my left and right hand respectively as we followed Martina towards the entrance of the park. Just as many little kids were there as there was adults (teens and the likewise). At the sight of Martina, a good bit of them crowded around her legs. Martina looked like one of those cool moms as she semi-awkwardly patted the top of their heads before stooping down a bit to communicate with them.
"You look even prettier in person!" One girl, who looked to be mixed with something with her bright orange-reddish hair, spoke as she walked up to me. She had her iPhone in her hand, and her group of friends behind her seemed to be Snapchatting the whole ordeal. "Can ya'll at least get my good side?" I joked before letting go of Nia and Alisha's hand. They were being bombarded with questions from some other girls, so it was only right for me to put my attention on the four in front of me.
"How old are you guys?" I questioned. They looked young--younger than me at least, but not like, super young. They reminded me of my adolescent days of either the end of middle school, or beginning of high school.
"I'm 16, and the rest are 15." The Red Head spoke in front of me, confidence radiating in her voice. When she spoke, you could hardly see her navy blue and pink braces, but when she smiled, she made sure to show every teeth.
"Do you guys dance too?" I questioned.
"Do I dance? I live and breathe dance. My mom was a dancer too--she danced for Hampton University. I've been dancing since I was seven years old." Red Head spoke, and I looked at the girls behind her as they chorused in that they danced as well. Red Head, despite our obvious physical differences, had some qualities of myself in her. However, she seemed a lot more bold than I was at 16. In fact, at 16 I was steering myself a way from drama by secluding myself from certain aspects of high school. My parents had instilled some kind of mindset on me that made high school seem as if it was Hell at that.
"Can I take a picture of you? My Instagram is going to be lit." Red Head spoke.
"Of course? But can I have your name first? I've been calling you Red Head in my head for the past five minutes." I spoke.
Turns out, her name was Gail, and her friends were Angelique, Keira, and Kiara.
I let her take a picture of me, confused as to why she didn't want to take a picture with me, but after she showed me my solo picture, I found myself rushing to screenshot it from my own phone. She had an iPhone 7, and I was still living off of my iPhone 6--which doesn't seem like it was much of a difference until she showed me the unedited fix. I was going to need to call my Mother ASAP and have her put in an order for me.
I could already imagine the bomb selfies.
"I hope you lead stands again today. You're really good. I'm always telling my friends that they are sleeping on you, but they always want to jump on Carmen's bandwagon. I think it's because you're new, and Carmen isn't. But that's whatever. Honestly, I hope you're captain next year so I can buy all your Bisonette gear. I have all of Martina's, and Ella's, and Missy's--I even have one of Coach Liz's. All I need is yours and I'll have a perfect all star team." Gail's voice rambled on, and I couldn't help but smile at her presence.
"You would be great a captain. You seem so jovial and so popping. Whatever dance team you're on, you make sure you kill it." I encouraged her. As much as I wanted to stay, Martina was urging that we talk to as many girls as we could.
About two hours later, we were being ushered out of the park by some local police, and entering back into the musty van. The meet and greet was very successful. I, unintentially had been the star of the show, much to Carmen's annoyance. She was very clear that she didn't like how everyone was crowding around me and using the statements 'future captain.' Carmen huffed and puffed and cursed and did the most until she eventually walked away from the park, and into a nearby Starbucks.
When she came back, she smelled of cigarettes.
Carmen was such a junkie.
With the meet and greet out of the way, there was only one more important thing we had to accomplish, and that was to do our best at the basketball game.
Lunch was served in the dressing room, and it wasn't anything too heavy, but heavy enough that we could deal with it. Our lunch was later than usual due to the fact that Coach Liz was busy setting everything up, that she forgot to confirm with the caterer who was in charge of bringing lunch to the hotel. In the end, we had to settle on Subway which wasn't necessarily my favorite but it had to do.
"Adele texted. She said good luck." Nia spoke as she laced up the straps of her shoe.
"I don't want to hear from her." Alisha spat. Out of the three of us, she took Adele's situation the hardest, and I think it's because Alisha was just a naturally caring person. Of course, I cared a hundred percent about Adele, but another part of me didn't want to hop into her business. Especially when she reacted the way she did when we first reached out to her. Nia sucked her teeth at Alisha and shook her head. "I know you're mad because we are all mad too, but the last thing we need is for her to be going through this by herself. Right?" Nia turned facing me as she waited for me to cosign.
I sighed.
"Right now, I could care less about Adele. Do I want what's best for her? Of course. However, I don't want to hear any of that right now. We have a game to prepare for." I spoke, rubbing the last of my 'highlighting lotion' on to my legs. It was a tactic I had seen Martina do a couple of times, and I had finally decide to try it out myself. The lotion itself was pretty expensive, but the glow it was giving me on my arms and legs made up for it.
I wanted the opposing team to go blind by this highlight.
I stood up from my bent over position, and eyed myself in the mirror. I had managed to get my hair as straight as I wanted it, and now we were all uniform in our golden uniform. I wanted to go outside and find Colby to wish him luck--there was little to no service in here so my text messages weren't go through. Coach Liz, however, had a different plan for us and we did our routine a little bit unsual today. For one, we prayed a lot earlier than normal, and after that, we did a full lap around the entire outside of the arena.
We probably looked crazy to the fans coming into the stadium, but Coach Liz was known for her crazy things anyway.
She didn't really explain much about why we were running, but she did specifiy she wanted pointed toes, great posture, and a smile on our face as we did run. Martina looked like she knew what the reason was behind it, but didn't explain it to us. To me, it was just another way for Coach Liz to show us she was still in charge, despite the fact that we already knew that. I tried not to think too much about the running--it was over now so I could focus on the actual execution of my halftime.
And per usual, it execute was what we did. Martina decided that it'd be best for us to run out onto the court during half time versus our little walk that we did. We ran the same way we did outside, except it was at a slower pace. Apparently, this was some new things that a lot of HBCU dance teams were trying to incorporate into their routines, and we just had to extra about it.
The game went well, we won of course, which was very much expected. This Miami team wasn't all that hyped up at all, the fact that we got to go to Miami was what made this trip more than it was suppose to be. It was a much needed break from the extremely cold weather up north, even though the wind down here was acting really disrespectful today.
"That went nicely." Alisha cheered as we occupied ourselves with packing up. The game had ran a little bit over due to a small injury on the opposing team, and Coach Liz had rented the van for only a certain amount of time. So if we wanted to leave with the group and not pay money to have someone else pick us up, we had to get packed up and ready to go in a matter of eight minutes. This didn't appear to be a difficult task at first, but after getting stuck getting out of the tight dance uniform, I realized I was either going to have to take this off in the hotel room when I got back, or rip the entire uniform off of me. Of course, the latter option could not happen or there would be a hefty charge on my Bison Card. I mean, it wouldn't be much for me to call my parents and have them pay for it (and tip like they did for everything), but that was also way too tedious, and I would rather just turn in the uniform late than go through all of that.
However, in the end I was able to get the uniform off of me with the help of Alisha and Nia, and slip into a matching track suit set that was comfortable enough for the ride home.
"It did go nicely. I liked that little running thing." Nia spoke. Her response was delayed--by now we were walking outside of the arena, and the disappointed chatter of the opposing team fans was somewhat the soundtrack of this little clip. Everything fell in slow motion--the laughter that Alisha, Nia, and I shared between the three of us, the slow movement of our walking pace, and a clearly angry Carmen walking our way. She grabbed my hand and pulled me away from Alisha and Nia, separating the two of us from the rest of the group. Nia and Alisha didn't keep walking, they stood their ground, waiting to see what exactly was going on.
"What the fuck is this, Sage?" Carmen's voice was clearly angry, but it wasn't above a whisper as she held up the clear plastic baggie with white sugar inside of it. I knew she was going to find the Ziploc bag, and I knew she was going to question me about it, so it wasn't a shock to me. I had planned this all along; fill a white baggie with sugar, write a cute little note that alluded to me knowing all about her little secrets, and slip it in her book bag before the game. I crossed my arms, a smirk playing on my lips.
"I don't know what that is. Maybe you should tell me? You don't seem new to it." I spoke. One of the only things I had learned from Carmen was how to keep a calm yet intimidating demeanor. It was almost pleasurable to be on the other side of the conversation for once. Carmen usually was the one with the tricks up her sleeves, and now, I had beaten her at her own game.
"Who told you?" Carmen questioned, taking a step closer to me. I didn't flinch or move back. Carmen wouldn't do anything here--not in front of Martina and the rest of the girls. She was asking to be kicked off if she even made the movement to hit me.
"No one told me. Next time you try to put Vance on that junkie shit, make sure you do it when I'm not around." I kept my voice at a leveled state and my eyes darted to behind Carmen, watching as the bus began to fill up. As much as I wanted to torture Carmen with my knowledge of her little drug addiction, I didn't want to be stuck here any longer. "How about you go to the back alley and do what you do best?" I questioned with a cock of my eyebrow. I pushed past her.
"Junkie," With one final look, I spun on my heels and linked arms with Nia and Alisha again. I could practically feel the worrisome gaze that Carmen was practically shooting at my back. She knew I had the upper hand here. This was more than just dance, this could get her arrested even though that was honestly the last thing on my mind. I doubt I would even go as far as to tell Coach Liz, but it was nice to have her shook about something.
"That was iconic!" Nia exclaimed in her best Joanne the Scammer voice. I flipped my hair and gave her a quick smile.
"Well you know how we do."
I had Carmen in check now, and she knew it.
I couldn't be more pleased.