Read #3 Turn Up for Real Online

Authors: Stephanie Perry Moore

#3 Turn Up for Real (4 page)

BOOK: #3 Turn Up for Real
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Most would think my life wasn't bad … sitting in a limousine, riding along with my privileged family. However, it felt like I was in a big coffin, not some plush, luxurious car. I felt smothered. My parents' eyes were staring down at me. My sisters were looking at me all cross-eyed and crazy. If their looks could kill, I'd be dead.

Frustrated, I just yelled, “Say whatever you have to say already! I'm sick of being scrutinized by y'all. Nobody in this car is perfect!”

“None of y'all want to tell her? I'll tell her. Sharp girls have standards, Slade. You lost the pageant. You dashed off the stage. You're supposed to lose with dignity and grace. Yeah you came back on, but Mom had to go get you,” my younger sister Sloan stated.

“Oh, so I just embarrassed everybody. Is that it?” I asked, half caring.

“She's not trying to hurt your feelings, but …” Yuri added, before she stopped.

I said, “But what, Yuri? Spit it out.”

“She doesn't need to spit it out,” Shelby said as she hunched her shoulder like she was sick of me. “Everything isn't going to always go your way, Slade, but you know you can't pout about it … and you sort of did, sis. Love you to pieces, but you sort of did.”

Ansli was sitting near me, and she slid a little closer in and put her arm around me. “I know how it feels to have the world you envision in your mind fall apart. And if you thought you were going to win and didn't, it's got to be hard, but you did really good. We all were just a little shocked when you acted the way you did.”

“She needs to get over it. She went MIA for a long time,” Sloan uttered. “Selfish butt.”

“Screw you, Sloan,” I let slip from my mouth.

“Alright girls that's quite enough,” my mom said with a stern voice, clearly disappointed in us both.

“No, no, that's not enough, Sherri,” my dad said. “We need to talk to you young ladies about these boys.”

My eyes bucked wide. Only my father knew about the stranger. He said that I could never see him again, so he didn't need to bring it up.

“I can't say for sure that I'm going to win anything because these polls tell you one thing, but the election results may turn out to be another. But if this election goes the way it's predicted, you all are going to have to be smart. There're going to be all kinds of young men trying to get with you girls. You can't just fall for some cute guy with muscles, follow him anywhere, and end up getting killed. I raised all five of you to be independent, to have your own dreams and your own goals, not to be around here excited about chasing boys.”

“Dad, I don't know what you're talking about, but I'm not into the boys. I'm focused on trying to be summa cum laude of my graduating class in two and a half years,” Sloan said, as if he was offending her.

Knowing this was all directed at me, I huffed, “Well, Dad, you misjudged Shelby's boyfriend, thinking he was a thug because he was fighting at the political debate. Turns out he was only defending his mom against an abusive stepfather. And then there's Ansli's boyfriend, and for some reason you're really cool with him. You don't even judge him for being homeless.”

“What are you trying to say?” Ansli said to me.

Feeling bad that I upset the wrong sister, I uttered, “I'm not trying to offend you or anything. I'm just saying that boys have tough situations, but that doesn't mean they're bad boys we need to stay away from. And just because I was talking to somebody doesn't mean I was trying to sleep with them.”

“Slade!” my mom said in an appalled tone.

The limousine couldn't have gotten to our home any faster. I couldn't wait to get out of the stuffy car. As soon as it parked in our circular driveway, I jumped out.

“You better talk to that girl!” I heard my dad say to my mom as I started walking down our long driveway toward the street.

My mom called out, “Slade, come back here so you can get your stuff out of the car. Nobody's going to carry your stuff into the house, girl.”

“Isn't that what a limousine driver is for?” I yelled.

“Slade, get your tail back up here. Your mom wasn't asking you,” my dad shouted.

So I turned back around. I was so frustrated. My head was pounding.

“We got it,” Shelby said, as my sisters got all of my pageant wear.

“Good girls. Take that stuff on in so I can talk some sense into your sister.”

“Talk some sense into me?” I questioned, feeling like I was growing in the moonlight and wasn't trying to let anyone, even my mom, belittle me.

“Yes, honey. I was glad you came back out and congratulated the queen, but I don't know what's going on with you. Sometimes you make me want to scream. I know teenage girls are a handful, but you I don't understand. At least Sloan tells me what she's thinking, and Shelby makes a case for what she wants. You, you just try to be some maverick. And don't get it twisted. That may be your school mascot, but it's not reality. You don't run anything around here. You just can't go off when you want to. We searched after the pageant over thirty minutes looking for you. We didn't know if someone had snatched you up or what.”

“Snatched me up, Mom? Really?”

“Yes, really. There were some strange characters, and nobody knew who they were, and we couldn't find you. You're a gorgeous girl, and you were very depressed. I was worried. Just don't hold your emotions so close to your chest, Slade. It's time to grow up a little bit, babe,” she said.

She patted me on the shoulder and left me outside to think. I looked up at the beautiful, early October evening sky, and my heart longed for the night to give me direction. Of all the sisters, I had been the one who stood on my faith the most. I wasn't overly religious or anything, but the gospel hymns my grandmother used to sing stuck with me, and I believed the words. But it had been a long time since I sung any of them. Now more than anything I needed the Lord to show up, so I started singing an old treasure that always gave me hope, “Pass Me Not, O Gentle Savior.” I sang:

“Pass me not, O gentle Savior, Hear my humble cry; While on others Thou art calling, Do not pass me by. Savior, Savior, Hear my humble cry; While on others Thou art calling, Do not pass me by. ”

Then I stopped singing and shouted. “I don't have any friends. I don't have a crown. I don't have my dreams. Could You help give me a life?”

About thirty minutes later, after I had taken a bath, I turned on my computer to see what I had been missing. I had an e-mail from the queen. “Call me. Let's be friends,” Charlotte wrote.

I wanted to yell, “You're the last person I want to be friends with!” So I turned off the computer and went to bed, hoping that the stranger was okay. He wouldn't leave my mind.

I wasn't a fan of school, but I sure loved being in glee class. It was a combination of singing, acting, and dancing all in one. My skinny, strawberry-blonde teacher Ms. Oxford had been on Broadway herself. She talked in an Irish accent, but used slang like she was from Harlem. The class was mixed, with a diverse group of characters. Jocks, geeks, all races, sizes, and genders too. If you had spunk and talent, the class was for you.

We'd only been in school a little over a month and a half, but I still didn't have any real buddies. When three girls, whom I called a modern day TLC because they were cute, cool, and charming, walked in, I caught myself staring. I didn't know much more about them besides that they were juniors like me, but their friendship was one I longed to be a part of. They were huddled up, laughing. I was so into looking at the sassy threesome that I didn't even realize that we had a guest enter the room. Everybody rushing up to shake his hand, like he was somebody important.

Ms. Oxford said, “So, I can tell all that hand-shaking means you're giving somebody mad respect. You must know who he is.”

“Yeah, Mr. Mundy from Mundy Records,” a dude from the back shouted out.

“That's exactly correct. The record label that's known for breaking new talent in the city of Charlotte. And he's here today to talk to you guys about something special. So without further ado, I turn the mic over to Mr. Brian Mundy,” Ms. Oxford said.

Everyone around me stood, clapping. The opportunity to be signed to a record label was a dream come true. Mr. Mundy motioned for us to sit.

The tall, handsome, well-dressed man in his forties said, “Why, thank you guys. You all appreciate that I have a business that puts out records. Well, I couldn't do what I do without great talent, so I am in awe of you. Your teacher has been sending me demos. Anyway, let me say she has inspired me to go ahead and start another big talent search, and I am only inviting select schools that have people in glee club to enter. I need to put out a new hit. It's hard times even in the record business, so I'm just going to be real with you guys. If you got your ‘A' game, and you're ready to break out and do big things, then you might win this contest.”

“What is the winner of the contest going to get?” the same guy from the back shouted out.

“What's your name, young man?”

“You want to know my real name or my stage name?” my classmate asked.

“I want to know whatever name you want me to know,” Mr. Mundy said.

“Oh, then I'm Flo Breaker.”

“Oh, you from Florida?” Mr. Mundy sought to confirm.

“That's right.”

“Wow, that's wassup. You can't steal the Florida name and not bring it.”

“I can sing, but I want to be a rapper.”

“Alright, alright, I'm going to be real honest. I am looking to sign a male soloist or a female group.”

The threesome in the front was all giddy. They were waving their hands and bumping each other. They looked real desperate trying to get his attention.

Finally, he looked at them and said, “Unless there is another member of your group or one of y'all isn't in it, I've got to be honest again, I'm not that interested.”

The shortest one in the middle, whose name I think was Taylor, asked, “Why not?”

He answered, “Because I like even numbered female groups. It just keeps the drama under control.”

The one with spunk said, “Sir, I'm Dayna, and you need to hear us first. We bring it, we are good, and we're just what you need for your label.”

“Alright, but I'm already telling you.”

Ms. Oxford cut in and said, “Yeah girls, you've got to understand when a record label is telling you what they want, don't try to give them what you have. Figure it out. There's plenty of talent in this room. You need to add somebody to the group if y'all need to pair up.”

“But I don't even need to try.” Flo Breaker uttered in a melancholy tone.

“You told me you're a rapper and a singer. I might be interested. All of you, if your group is phenomenal, if you're something other than what I am looking for, then you got to go for it. You've got to believe in yourself. You've got to make me as an executive want to change my mind. But just know my eye is going to be looking out for a female group that is even in number or a male singer. I don't care if he's singing country or R&B, but I do want him to sing. If you guys have any more questions, I will be here for a little while, but start singing, start practicing. Here's the catch, competition is next week. Your teacher has all the particulars.”

Finally when Mr. Mundy was gone our teacher told us to line up. We needed to practice our chords and sing some. I just happened to be standing near the threesome. I don't know if I was a little too loud or what, but they looked at me like I had the plague.

Caylen, the third member of the group, said, “We need to talk to you as soon as class is over.”

“Okay,” I said.

“Okay, focus young people. Let's go,” Ms. Oxford said, knowing that rehearsal was gonna be hard, as we all were in dreamland.

But it seemed like it was taking forever. I had no idea what they wanted to talk to me about.

When the bell rang, Dayna and the others stepped right over to me and said, “Look, you tryna get a record deal?”

“Yeah,” I said. “But I'm not even trying for the contest because I'm not in a group.”

“Well, you hear what he told us?” Taylor said in a sweeter tone.

“Yes, that you've got an odd number,” I replied.

“Right, we need one more to be a modern day En Vogue. Do you want to be in our group?” Dayna asked.

Looking at the three of them and thinking I could be a part of their group made me all excited. I'd heard them sing during class. They had skills, and I guess today they finally heard. And though I always wanted to be a solo act, if being in a group could get me out there, then maybe that's what I needed to do. Like my grandma always said, “Nothing was wrong with casting my net on the other side of the boat to catch fish.” After all, Beyoncé started in a group.

So I looked at the three of them and said, “Yeah, I'll be the fourth member of your group. Let's go win this thing.”

BOOK: #3 Turn Up for Real
7.86Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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