Honey and Spice(109)
I pressed the clicker in my hand and the projector behind me flickered alive. It flashed screenshots of texts that dozens of women had sent me with their names and photos blurred. Clear as day though, was Zack’s number, alongside aggressive texts in which he taunted these women, threatening to expose explicit images of them. The picture that Zack had posted of me was in the middle, unblurred. There was a collective sharp inhale, some murmurs, some heckles. I almost buckled. I looked to the side of me to see Aminah making an okay sign with her fingers and gesturing to the two emergency shots of tequila she had waiting for me.
I took a deep breath, wet my lips, and continued. The crowd had settled now, hooked on my every word.
“Some of these pictures were sent, and some were taken without consent. Either way, none of these women deserved to be taunted with them or blackmailed. He is weaponizing our sexuality against us. Zack Kingsford is a misogynistic pig. Silence emboldens him. He is weak and afraid of the truth. He’s afraid of us. Our voice.
“And aside from this, he has his own agenda and it has nothing to do with the good of Blackwell. If he wants to cozy up with the Whitewell Knights to get fast-tracked into being a token Black mascot at a soul-sucking law firm, well, be my guest.” The audience was electrified again, thunder looping through the room. “But what we won’t allow him to do is use Blackwellians’ integrity to do it. We are better than that. We deserve better than him. Whoever you vote for next week just please bear that in mind. We deserve a leadership that cares. We aren’t a mechanism to feed somebody’s ego.
“We’re a community, a movement, and a family. Family don’t sell each other out. Family are honest with each other, and when we’re not, we put our hands up and come clean. So, I’m coming clean, and I really hope you guys will give me a fresh chance and Blackwell a fresh chance in the upcoming elections. Let’s make the right decision for our family and rid ourselves of the real Wasteman of Whitewell. I want to thank all the amazing women who trusted me enough to help share their stories. You’re incredible. And I would also like to note that the screenshots have been reported to the school board by us.”
There was uproarious applause and foot stamps and, while I was tempted to be bolstered by the energy, I knew I hadn’t finished. I waited till it died down to add, “Um, also . . . I really, really appreciate you all for supporting Gotta Hear Both Sides, but I can’t be a hypocrite anymore, so in the spirit of transparency . . .” I inhaled deeply and my gaze roamed the crowd to see Malakai stood at the back of the hall, looking straight at me, a hand in his pocket, face carefully inscrutable.
“Malakai and I didn’t start off as a couple.” I nodded at the harsh, hushed shock that flowed through the tables. “It’s kind of a long story but . . . we pretended to be in the relationship for Gotta Hear Both Sides. And I thought . . . there was no risk in faking because I really didn’t think Malakai and I would work.”
Malakai was now looking at his phone, eyes hard. Was he even listening? He glanced up at me for a second, expression unreadable, before he turned away and walked out the doors of the ballroom. In some kind of weird display of masculine solidarity, some other male members of Blackwell left with him. Was that Ty and Kofi? My heart cracked. I had to stay. This was bigger than us. I felt sick. Was I shaking? I heard a heckle from the crowd.
“I’m sorry, you basically lied to us? For weeks? And we’re meant to be cool with this?” The sentiment caught on and the tone of the crowd was more nebulous. I curled my hand into a fist in order to retain my nerve.
I shook my head. “No, you’re not meant to be cool with it. It was a shitty thing to do. I didn’t respect you guys like I should have. And I think, I . . . thought everyone else was performing romance so what I was doing wasn’t technically wrong. But the truth is . . . you lot are so cool and so brave for just going for it. Letting yourself feel. I missed out on so much for so long because I was scared of doing that.”
The tables were silent, looking at me contemplatively, trying to figure out whether they hated me or not. That was fair. Aminah attempted a slow clap that Chioma and Shanti tried to join in on from their table, but it quickly dissipated into a weak patter when they realized nobody was willing to build it to an applause.
I wet my lips. “Uh, so, anyway . . .”
Someone put their hand up and Simi signalled at someone to pass them a mic. I said it was an open forum and anything went. The person was Zuri. I instantly regretted the decision.
“Okay, I hear the political shit, and we care, and we agree that Zack is a Wasteman but . . . back to you and Malakai, you were faking this whole time?”
I’d committed to honesty, and there was a picture of me in my underwear on the screen behind me so I figured that there wasn’t much more to expose. Malakai had left the room, but the truth was still the truth. Blackwell had told me so much about themselves. I owed them the same vulnerability.
“Well. No. We became a real couple. And . . . actually, I don’t think I was faking any of the time. I just didn’t know it. From the moment I met Malakai it’s like something fundamental in me knew. He’s thoughtful and gentle. He has a stillness that calms me. He’s infuriating and he makes really corny jokes and he makes me smile even when I don’t want to. Especially when I don’t want to. And I tell him he’s the worst, and he is, because he’s annoying, so fucking annoying, because there is no hiding when I’m around him. Completely fucks up my guards.