The Sisters of APF Page 3

  I was just about to go into my room and start unpacking my CD collection when I spotted her. She was dragging a trunk up the sixth-floor steps that must have outweighed her two to one. It wasn’t so much that she looked innocent to me. She just looked lost. Not lost in the literal sense but lost period.

  It was hot as hell in D.C. and yet she was dressed like she was on her way to the Poconos for a weekend of skiing. She had on a long-sleeved wool sweater, a plaid shirt, a pair of black leggings that looked more like long johns, heavy wool socks, and tattered brown leather ankle boots.

  I walked down to the end of the hall to the stairwell and grabbed one of the handles on the trunk, trying to prevent it from dragging her all the way back down the steps.

  She glanced up at me with huge brown eyes and flashed a perfect set of teeth. “Thank you!”

  “Not a problem.” I helped her get the trunk up the remaining three steps and then we let it fall to the ground with a thud. I reached out my hand. “I’m Patricia Reynolds, the resident assistant.”

  As she shook my hand I noticed she was trembling from head to foot. I thought her teeth were going to chatter. “Mary Ann. Mary Ann Ferguson.”

  “Are you cold or something? You’re shaking like a leaf.” It was a silly question, but I asked it anyway.

  “No, I’m fine really,” she replied hesitantly. “I’m just a little nervous about all of this.”

  “Where are you from?” I couldn’t quite place her accent.

  “South Dakota.”

  “South Dakota!” I exclaimed.

  She looked like she was about to pass out in embarrassment. “Yes, is there something wrong with South Dakota?”

  “No, I just didn’t realize there were any black people in South Dakota.”

  She giggled, the first sign of easing off her obvious panic attack. “There aren’t many there. That’s for sure.”

  “Well, I assume you’ve noticed that there are plenty of them in D.C.”

  “Indeed. Now I see why they call it the Chocolate City.”

  “Lots of fine men here too, gurl,” I assured her, just in case she was wondering. “I don’t care what anyone says. D.C. has the finest collection of brothas I’ve ever seen, and being that I’m originally from New York, that’s saying something.”

  “New York City!” She looked like she was in shock. “I’ve never met anyone from New York City before!”

  I fell out laughing. “You’re going to meet plenty of them around here.”

  Mary Ann lowered her eyes to the floor. “I’ve never been out of South Dakota before,” she admitted, seemingly full of shame.

  “How did you get here? Plane?”

  “Naw, I caught the bus. I couldn’t afford a plane. I’m here on a scholarship,” Mary Ann said, as if it was something dreadful.

  “Hell, so am I.”

  “Really?” Mary Ann smiled.

  “Word up! So Mary Ann, what room are you in?”

  “I think I’m in 618 but I’m not quite sure. Let me check.” She rummaged through this large duffel bag on her shoulder and retrieved a crumpled piece of paper. I had to refrain from cackling when I saw the baby doll in her bag. I thought, this chick seriously has issues. She unfolded the paper. “Yes, 618.”

  “Cool. That’s directly across the hall from my room. I’m in 617.”

  “Oh, okay,” she whispered.

  “Come on, it’s right down here on the left.” I grabbed one of the handles on the trunk and waited for her to get the other one.

  She shoved the paper back in her bag and helped me drag the trunk seventy or so feet to her room. We got it inside and threw it on the bare mattress.

  “This is a nice room,” she announced. I didn’t see anything glamorous about the dorm rooms, but I nodded my head in agreement just the same. “I get the room all to myself? I figured I would have a roommate.”

  “Not in this dorm. Law school dormitories are single rooms and coed. A roommate might hinder studying. At least, that’s what the bigwigs say.”

  “Did you just say coed?”

  “Yes, coed as in both men and women,” I responded with a raised brow. “We’re all grown here. This is an all-female floor but every other floor is male.”

  “Oh.” She seemed to relax slightly. “What about the bathrooms and showers? Are they coed?”

  “Nope.” I closed her bedroom door so I could point to the bathroom door in the corner that was hidden behind it. “Everyone has their own bathroom. Can you imagine the freaky shit that would be going on up in here if the showers were coed?” I fell out laughing. She sank down on the bed beside her trunk. I couldn’t help being nosy. It’s my nature. “Mary Ann, are you scared of men or something?”

  “No, of course not,” she replied with an edge of sarcasm in her voice. “That’s ridiculous. I’m twenty-two.”

  I threw my palms up in her direction. “Hey, I was just asking. You seem kind of edgy every time I mention the male species.”

  “I had a boyfriend, Clarence, back in South Dakota,” she boasted. I guess she wanted me to know that she was capable of getting a man, despite her homely appearance.

  “Had? Did you two break up recently?”

  “Very recently,” she uttered getting up and walking toward the window overlooking the courtyard. “We broke up the other day.”

  “How come?” Okay, I’m extremely nosy. Shoot me already.

  “I didn’t see any reason to have him wait on me for three years.” She swung around and faced me. “He’s a man, you know, and he has certain needs.”

  “Shoot, women have needs too.”

  “Yeah, but not like men.”

  That’s when I knew it. That’s when I knew she was sexually repressed and oppressed like the majority of my female counterparts. That’s when I knew she probably just laid there and let men have their way with her, not even worrying or expecting an orgasm for herself.

  “Whatever you say, gurlfriend.” I opened her door back up and stepped out into the hall. “Listen, I’m about to make my rounds and introduce myself to the rest of the women on the floor. Particularly the sistahs. We have to stick together on campus. United we stand, divided we fall.”

  “It was nice meeting you, Patricia, and thanks for the help with my trunk.”

  “Don’t mention it.” I was about to walk away but hesitated. The chick was going to have major problems fitting in. That was too obvious. “Mary Ann, I’m going to walk over to the cafeteria a little later for dinner. You want to walk with me?”

  “Sure! That would be great!” That was the most excitement she had shown in the fifteen minutes since I laid eyes on her. “What time are you going over?”

  “Say about six. Is that cool with you?”

  “Six would be fine, thank you.”

  “Um, Mary Ann.”

  “Yes?”

  “If you and I are going to be hanging, then…”

  “Hanging?”

  “Yes, going out together. Hanging.” She was really out of it. “Attending different social functions together.”

  “Oh.” She finally got it and it was about damn time. “Hanging.”

  I continued. “If you and I are going to be hanging, you’ll have to loosen up a bit.”

  “What do you mean by that?” She was obviously offended. She held out the bottom of her sweater. “Is there something wrong with my clothing?”

  “Actually, I was referring to your tense demeanor. However, now that you mentioned your clothing, you look like you’re headed to Alaska.” She rolled her eyes at me. Good, at least she did have some fire in her. “You want to borrow something more appropriate for this weather from me?”

  “No, I have something to wear,” she declared.

  “Okay, cool. I’ll see you at six.” I left it at that and walked off. I had barely made it ten feet when I heard her door slam like a clap of thunder.

  Mary Ann

  Okay, so I wasn’t a fashion model. She didn’t have to come off at me like
that. Just because I was a little nervous about my new surroundings didn’t mean I was a church mouse. As for my clothes, it had been freezing on the bus and I’ve always been cold-natured. I unlatched the rusty trunk locks and started unpacking my things into the three-drawer dresser on the opposite wall from the bed.

  I didn’t own a lot of name-brand clothes and no designer clothes. I never saw the reasoning behind advertising someone else’s name on my body and paying out the behind for the privilege to do it. That’s ludicrous! I picked out a pair of khakis and a white poplin blouse to wear to dinner and then hit the shower.

  The warm water felt great and the high water pressure was an added bonus. The water pressure back on the farm was always limited. I used some of the bath gel Clarence bought me as a going-away present. It must’ve set him back a pretty penny. It was the aromatherapy kind they sell in fancy department stores. It was relaxing, just like the bottle claimed it to be.

  Afterward, I made my bed with the new set of crisp white sheets and the pink wool blanket my mother gave me. The mattress left a lot to be desired. It had a couple of springs protruding through the cover and I had to toss and turn a little bit to get comfortable. I made a mental note to ask Patricia about the possibility of getting a new one at dinner.

  Long bus trip or not, I was too busy worrying about how I would fit in at Hartsdale to take a nap. Namely, Patricia seemed nice enough, although her parting comments pissed me off. She was lucky I didn’t slam the door in her face. Rather, I waited until she was down the hall a ways and slammed it. One thing was obvious: I had always been one to bite my tongue in certain situations but all of that was going to have to change in the big city.

  I had actually begun to doze off when Patricia started banging on my door. Luckily, I had dressed fully before I laid down. I flung the door open and was stunned. Patricia had on a hoochie momma dress, a complete contrast to the shorts and loose tee she was wearing when I met her. The dress was short, red, and tight enough to see her heart pounding in her partially exposed chest.

  She had pinned her long wavy black hair up, leaving only a few strands dangling on the left side of her perfectly sculptured sienna face. She glared at me with her dark gray eyes while I let her outfit sink in. “Is there something wrong?”

  “Uh-uh-uh, naw,” I finally managed to utter. “I was just admiring your outfit,” I lied.

  She giggled at me. “Yeah, right!”

  “I’m serious. It’s very becoming.” I was stretching the truth but it really was becoming on her. She had the body for it and, more importantly, the nerve to actually wear it. “I really like the dress.”

  “Cool, I have a black one just like it. You want me to go get it so we can be twins at dinner?”

  She called my bluff big time. “No, thanks,” I quickly replied. “I’m fine with what I have on.”

  She smirked at me, inhaling my bullshit, and then grabbed the doorknob. “So you ready?”

  “Ready.” I wasn’t ready, but I couldn’t hole up in my dorm room forever. After all, this was what I had always dreamed of. “Is the cafeteria a long way?”

  “Naw, just through the courtyard. It’s a short walk.”

  “Okay.” I was debating about changing my shoes. I had on some burgundy penny loafers that weren’t too comfortable. I decided to chance it since she said it wasn’t far. “I’m ready.”

  We got out in the hallway and I headed toward the steps. “Um, Mary Ann,” Patricia called after me. I turned and she was headed in the opposite direction. “Why don’t we just take the elevator?”

  “Elevator?” I asked, turning red with embarrassment. “You mean there’s an elevator?”

  “Yes, we’re living in modern times around here.”

  “I didn’t see an elevator when I came in.”

  “That’s because you came in the back entrance.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “You mean to tell me I lugged that trunk up six flights of stairs for nothing?”

  Patricia fell out laughing. “You damn sure did!”

  Patricia and I laughed the entire time to the cafeteria. While it wasn’t quite as short a walk as she proclaimed it to be, my feet managed to hold up well.

  It was a madhouse when Patricia and I entered the dining hall on the bottom level of the student union. The returning students were hugging all over each other and slapping their buddies on the back, ecstatic to see their classmates after the long summer.

  It was easy to pick out the first-year law students. They all looked nervous and out of place, just like me. Being there with Patricia made me a little less nervous and I didn’t even feel ashamed when I pulled out my free-meal card because she whipped hers out too.

  She introduced me to some of her friends while we stood in line. They all seemed nice enough. Once we sat down, the strangest thing happened. This expensively clad sistah walked up to our table to speak to Patricia.

  “Hey soror, what’s up?” she asked, placing a finely manicured hand on Patricia’s shoulder. Patricia leered at her and stared her down, refusing to blink. “I mean, I mean, I meant…” the woman stuttered. This is strange, I thought.

  “Yvette, this is Mary Ann. Mary Ann, this is Yvette.” Patricia turned back to her plate and picked up a spoonful of processed mashed potatoes.

  Yvette mumbled a quick greeting to me before quickly walking away.

  I glanced at Patricia, who was staring out one of the picture windows. She appeared to be extremely upset. I had never joined a sorority—black ones were scarce in South Dakota—but I was under the impression that sorors treated one another with love and respect, not disdain.

  “So what sorority are you in?” I ventured to ask.

  Patricia gasped, darting her eyes at me like I had just broken her out of a trance. “Huh? What did you say?”

  “What sorority do you belong to? AKA, Delta, Sigma Gamma Rho?”

  “Uh no, none of those,” Patricia answered hesitantly.

  “Then which one?”

  “I’m not in one.” Patricia chuckled. “Yvette’s just plain ole silly. She and I go way back. We went to high school together in New York.”

  “Oh.” That made absolutely no sense to me so I dropped the subject.

  “Back in the day,” Patricia decided to elaborate on her explanation, “we were in this club called the Vogue Club. You know, the most popular, best-dressed girls in the school, and we used to refer to each other as sorors from time to time. That’s all.”

  “I see.” While that made it a little clearer, the evil look she threw her soror still made me wonder if I was yet privy to the entire story. “Patricia, can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “Why are you being so friendly to me?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be? You’re new here, you’re rooming right across the hall, and besides, I hate to eat alone.”

  I took a sip of my Coke, which was seriously flat, through a straw. “Well, I appreciate it. You’re the first person I’ve really met except for the people over at the housing department and they were pretty nasty.”

  Patricia giggled. “Let me tell you something about people around here. In particular, the administration. They all feel like they are doing us a favor. Especially those of us here on scholarship. They don’t realize how hard we have worked to get here, but in the long run, once we graduate from law school and start pulling down those phat checks, they’ll be making chicken change compared to you and me.”

  “From your lips to God’s ears.” I took a bite of my cheeseburger. It tasted like rubber. Some things don’t change from campus to campus. The food was horrible. My friends from college used to help me boil hot dogs about an hour or two after they stopped serving dinner in the cafeteria and we would sell them door-to-door for a dollar each. People would snatch them up, even though we didn’t have condiment the first. “I need to make a lot of money so I can help my family out back home.”

  “You come from a large family?”

  “Yes, I h
ave eight brothers and sisters.”

  “Damn, that’s deep,” Patricia said, looking stunned. “I’m an only child and that’s a good and bad thing. Good because I never had to share and bad because I was often lonely.”

  “I can’t imagine not having my siblings in my life. It would be so, so empty.”

  We sat there in silence for a couple of minutes gnawing at our nasty food. There was a commotion near the doorway and I turned to see what the ruckus was all about. A tall, handsome brotha had made some sort of grand entrance with a bunch of women running up to him and throwing their arms around his waist and neck.

  “Who is that?”

  “Girl, don’t even ask,” Patricia replied, smacking her lips with disdain. “He’s nothing but trouble.”

  “Oh, I see.” I continued to stare at him. He had the smoothest skin I had ever seen on a man. He was very dark, a big turn-on for me because I didn’t see many men like him when I was growing up. Only in magazines and in the movies. “He’s very handsome.”

  “That he is, but he’s also a playa.” Patricia sighed heavily before adding, “His name is Trevor Ames and he has made a career of getting the panties.”

  I almost choked on a french fry. “Getting the panties?”

  “Yeah, you know? Don’t play dumb.”

  “Oh, okay, I get your meaning. He tries to get all the women in bed, huh?”

  “Yes, and no one ever denies him.”

  I raised an eyebrow in curiosity, recognizing the bitterness in Patricia’s voice. “Did you deny him?”

  “Subject dropped,” she announced. “Are you done eating?”

  “To be honest, I’m afraid if I finish this, I’ll be sick for the rest of the night.”

  “Cool, then let’s head on out.” Patricia jumped up from the table and grabbed her tray. I followed suit, and after we put the dishes on the kitchen conveyor belt, we walked on back to our dorm. She told me she had to finish unpacking, so I lied and said I needed to do the same. I could tell she was in a rotten mood and I had the distinct feeling Trevor Ames was the underlying cause of it all. I didn’t press it though. I just told her good night, went in my room, and pulled out my journal so I could write all about the first day of my new adventure. Afterward, I found the pay phone down the hall, called my parents collect to let them know I had arrived safely, and then hit the sack. Before I could even finish saying my prayers, I was fast asleep.