Ghetto Girls. Anthony Whyte

her the wide eyed look. “You know the one with the ride,” she added.

      “Let’s not even go there, yo. Leave it alone,” Coco said. But her plea seemed too weak and didn’t convince Josephine or Danielle. Neither said anything, but somehow the discussion ended on an unsettling note. “Let’s go get sump’n to eat and work on our steps.” Coco suggested. She turned away sharply, avoiding further discussion. Coco folded the paper with her lyrics and placed it in her Jansport. They headed for McDonald’s about three hundred feet away. She stopped suddenly as if reconsidering, and said, “Let’s make tracks to da chicken place, yo. I feel like some chicken, today.”

      Both Josephine and Danielle had caught up with her. They watched Coco, who continued with her bop. She slowly reached for a cigarette and stepped into a doorway to light it. The wind was brisk on this bright and sunny Monday, blowing the litter around the sidewalk in a swirl. Each time a pile landed, the wind would blow again, and the litter would float once more, and then settle again.

      The girls walked to the chicken place, hands in pockets, shades over their eyes, thoughts shrouded in silence. They ordered chicken and biscuits. Coco opted for honey with her chicken.

      “Why do you always get damn honey with your chicken?” Josephine asked. “That’s some straight down south shit,” she continued.

      “The fried chicken just taste a little bit better when it’s sweetened. Anyways—” Before they could fully discuss honey and chicken, a schoolmate came by and asked about the upcoming talent show and contest.

      “Y’all entering the talent jump-off, that Busta be throwing urr-year?” The teen asked.

      “Yeah, yeah. It’ll be on in about two weeks,” Josephine said.

      “Y’all should stomp the comp, but good luck, ahight.” The teen said and walked away. He rejoined a group from the school.

      “Good-looking out,” Josephine and Danielle both chorused. Coco looked up momentarily, but said nothing. She continued chewing and nodded at the questioner, who was leaving with both of his friends and said:

      “Now you know these scrubs were testing their game, yo… Niggas.” She stretched out the last syllable then Coco broke out in laughter.

      “They weren’t bad looking though, were they?” Josephine asked.

      “Yeah, but y’all attract ‘em like honey to a bee,” Coco said.

      “Well, their pickup line was kinda corny,” Josephine said.

      “Speaking of pickup, I need to pick up on my calc. The test is Wednesday.” Coco said.

      “Aw c’mon, Coco, you know you don’t have to study that hard. You’re one good lyric away from being a musical genius and a couple of tests from being on scholarship,” Josephine said.

      “Just trying to be all I can be, yo.” Coco replied.

      “Aw, listen to her,” Danielle said. “Now you trying to be modest?” There was a touch of sarcasm in her voice.

      “Not your usual ‘we-gonna-get-mad-paid,’” Josephine joked.

      “Huh uh, now she’s all ‘I’ma-do-sumthin’-for-da-sista,’” Danielle laughed.

      “Y’all dead wrong. You know I be on the DL, yo,” Coco said.

      “Yeah, but up on stage you swear your ass is the boss, Miss Diana Ross. You be playing it,” Danielle said. She was sounding critical of Coco’s style of singing and dancing.

      “That’s not true. I just do my thing, yo. I just be getting mine.”

      “Yeah, yours and everyone else’s,” Danielle said. “There’s no ‘i’ in team.”

      Coco faced Danielle and gave her deep, cold stare.

      “Are you for real?” Coco asked at last. Her tone was over the top, serious. Danielle immediately knew she had crossed a line, but wouldn’t back down. Josephine, in the middle, grew uneasy. The silence lengthened.

      “This food really sucks,” Josephine said. “I think maybe we should bounce, y’all?”

      “Now, I’m gonna ask,” Coco said. “We are a group, rrright?” she purred like Eartha Kitt.

      “Y’all gonna fight over some bullshit? C’mon,” Josephine said playing peacemaker.

      “We a group, right, yo?” Coco repeated.

      “Yeah we’re a group,” Danielle said, “and everything should be equal—including time at lead.”

      “Well, it’s good that you brought it up,” Coco said. “Cuz I don’t wanna be running around with peeps who suppose to be down wid ya, yet keeping shit behind ya back.”

      Josephine’s half-smile faded. Tension was at an all time high. Coco’s lips curled as if they were trying to touch her nose. Her reversed baseball cap made her look angry. She stood street fierce like someone ready to pop-off on any challenger—A bully, only a lot prettier than most.

      Danielle was the hunted, caught but not fully captured. She was confident about the avenue of escape. With her light brown hair and cool dark eyes, Danielle appeared to be calm under Coco’s intense pressure. In the group, Danielle moved with athletic grace on stage. Her trained body always invited the movements, turns and rhythms of motion. Her voice was always ready to shout and share the chorus. Now Danielle wanted to be a lead, if she could weather the storm Coco was ready to bring.

      “But Coco is the lead,” Josephine said. “We build off of her. I mean we can’t always change the lead. Have you ever witnessed a lead change in like say, SWV? They always have the same person singing, and they don’t do so badly.”

      “Yeah, maybe she’s the only one who can really sing,” Danielle deadpanned. “Yeah what about, the Spice Girls?” She asked.

      “Yeah, and what about them?” Coco demanded.

      “They don’t count. They ain’t even Hip Hop you don’t stop.” Josephine opined.

      “Ahight, okay yo. Cool,” Coco said reflecting, “if that’s what it’s all about then we’ll practice the routine with everyone at lead. Is that ahight with y’all?”

      “Yep, me personally, I’d rather try it that way.” Danielle agreed.

      “No, no. I’m cool with all that. But I’m saying, someone has to follow. That’s me. I’m not taking it personal,” Josephine said.

      “It’s not a matter of taking it personal, Jo.” Danielle was about to conclude, but Coco interrupted.

      “You’re taking it that way. Why else would we be sitting here arguing about this bullshit then, yo?”

      “I’m just saying…” Danielle was about to speak but Coco impatiently cut her off.

      “Just saying what, yo?” Coco asked and sat down.

      Josephine jumped in. “You’re just saying that you want to lead sometimes, and Coco said okay. Me, I say yeah. Now, can we just end this? I’m getting a damn headache. It’s about a record deal, y’all. Right now we’ve got nothing so we just fighting for crumbs.” Josephine said and glanced at her two friends who were still ready to lock horns. “What’s the matter with y’all?” Josephine finally asked.

      “Ain’t nothing the matter. I’m allowed to give my opinion on the group which I help get started, right? When are we starting these practices?” Danielle asked.

      “Let’s do it now, yo,” Coco said.

      The words sounded more like a challenge than an arrangement for rehearsal. They all rose. The sound of skidding chairs signaled their fate like the bell that begins a round in boxing. Suddenly Coco remembered her calculus test.

      “No, I think we better wait ‘til tomorrow.