Courtin' Jayd by L. Divine

your grandmother said for you to go straight to the backhouse when you get home,” my neighbor Brandy says from her seat on the porch. I was half expecting to see my Uncle Jay sitting next to her, smacking on the barbeque ribs and coleslaw she’s having for dinner. I’m assuming we’ll be eating takeout at our house tonight too.
    â€œThanks, Brandy.” As I get a little closer to home I see Rah’s red Acura parked across the street. I guess he got my mes sage from Nigel. Rah’s used to the constant arguing at my house so whatever’s going on won’t be new to him. It’s still embarrassing that my family has to have the cops come and solve our family battles sometimes, but at least we’re not alone. Almost every household on this block has the same issue.
    Walking up the driveway I can see inside the dining room window where the officers are taking a report from my Uncle Junior. It looks like this battle was between my uncles this time and not my grandparents. Mama and Daddy are probably the ones who called the police. Ever since my uncles started to use weapons on each other, my grandfather has stayed out of their fights, and Mama was never in them to begin with. If she could, she’d make a potion to vanquish them all from her house, Daddy included. But it’s not in her heart to do that—at least not yet.
    â€œWhat’s going on in here?” I say as I open the garage door to see Bryan, Jay, and Rah sitting in a circle eating Subway, one of my favorite meals. If Rah thinks he can butter me up with food, he’s only partially right. It’s going to take a whole lot more to get back on my good side than a value meal. It is a good start though, because a sistah is hungry. I didn’t want to spend the money I made braiding Bryan’s hair on food and the lunch we have during rehearsal isn’t all that. The booster club moms who provide lunch are into the healthiest, nastiest food available and I can only take so much of it.
    â€œEating, that’s what. And staying out of the line of fire,” Jay says, smacking on his chips while talking to me. “Let’s see what else is on,” he says, reaching over the small card table to the black-and-white television propped up against the wall.
    â€œHow was school?” Bryan asks, trying to bridge the gap between Rah and me. He knows we haven’t spoken all week and I’m hot about it. If Bryan and Jay weren’t here, I would have ripped into him from the door. But per Mama’s suggestion, I’m trying to keep a cooler head these days.
    â€œSchool was school,” I say, sitting down in the empty seat across from Rah, who’s in a daze and waiting for me to make the first move, his usual mode of operation when he knows he’s wrong. “What’s going on in the house?”
    â€œYour other dumb-ass uncles got into it over the iron,” Bryan says, totally unaffected by his older brothers’ behavior. We’re all used to their shit.
    â€œThere’s blood all over the carpet,” Jay says, leaning back into his seat before picking up the deck of cards in front of him and dealing them counterclockwise. Daddy taught us how to play Spades, Bidwiz, and Blackjack when we were younger. Now we’re both pretty good at the card games.
    â€œIt’s only a few drops. You exaggerate the truth worse than a chick sometimes,” Bryan says, taking his cards and putting them in order. By the way he’s organizing his hand, we must be playing Spades. I pick up an unopened bottle of water from the table and begin to drink while making myself comfortable. If Rah doesn’t pass me my food soon I’m going to snatch it away from him without saying a word.
    â€œAnd what are you doing here?” I say to Rah, who hasn’t stopped looking at me since I sat down. He hasn’t picked up his hand yet either. From the way we’re seated, we’re