“What does this have to do with Maya Angelou?” I asked the students in the group.
“Nothing. It’s just something from social media,” the boy answered.
I nodded. “Get back to work,” I ordered. “You can collect your phone after the bell.”
Trying to keep my shit together, I went to my desk and lookedat the image again. After taking note of the website, I counted the minutes until the bell so I could explore what the hell was going on. When I was alone, I picked up my phone, went to the site, and hitPLAYon the video.
“I keep getting tagged, so while I finish my makeup, I figure I should give you this story time,” Milan started, flashing a bright smile. “Story Time: My Hollywood Love Story.” She giggled. “Hollywood and I dated all throughout college. We met freshman year and became friends. He was serious about football, so he wasn’t looking to get into a relationship. I was serious about my studies and then pledging my sorority, so I wasn’t looking to get into a relationship either. But before sophomore year began, we had found ourselves in love with one another. We thought we would be together forever because we had the type of love that never truly goes away. He’s not the type to say I love you if he doesn’t mean it. It takes him a long time to utter those words, and once he locks in, it’s forever. If he was ever going to be in a relationship while in the league, we talked about it being with me. We always said that when the time was right, we’d reconnect. Who knows… maybe the time is right now.” She winked at the camera. “I don’t know what his relationship status is or who the woman is he’s pictured with, but I know him, and I know that his first love is football. And until I hear that he’s in a relationship out of his own mouth, he’s single…”
I hadn’t been on social media since Aunt Addy died, so the Milan turn of events blindsided me. I immediately sent the video to the group chat. Unfortunately, in sharing the video, I opened the comments.
Well, damn.
The top comment said that Milan looked more like a professional athlete’s woman and that she was more Lamar’s type. I swiped off the video, and the next one happened to be someone talking about how it wasn’t a coincidence that Lamar had played the best game of his life on the same day Milan posted her video.
I’d thought the comments were rude before, but the fact that Lamar’s ex was my opposite—slim, light-skinned, straight hair, the “right” look—brought out the nastiest commentary.
Seeing how he fumbled Milan, I can’t even look at this man the same.I can’t vote for him this month. I need some time to get over this, I read, rolling my eyes.
I hated the bullshit they were saying about me, because it wasn’t true. But it killed me that they were detracting from Lamar’s talent and plotting against him. His dreams had come to fruition, and they were using me to try to derail them.
My stomach lurched.
This is not okay. I can’t let this happen.
Gianna and Drea from my first period walked in.
“Are you okay, Ms. Payne?” Gianna asked.
Drea gave me a sympathetic look. “Just in case it was you in that picture—”
Looking at Drea, Gianna pointed at me. “Do your eyes not work? You can see clear as day that it’s her.” Then she turned to me and frowned. “We’re sorry about the breakup.”
“It was really inspiring seeing you and Hollywood together,” Drea noted. “I’m not feeling that Milan lady. I mean, she has some cute ‘get ready with me’ videos, but—”
Gianna put her hands on her hips. “Drea, read the room!”
“How can I read the room?” Drea snapped back. “My eyes don’t work!”
Gianna’s jaw dropped, and then they both giggled.
I stood up, grabbing my bags. “You’re going to miss your bus,” I told them.
“I drove,” Drea countered. “But we really came in here to see if you were okay. Rumors are going around that you and Hollywood broke up and that’s why you were gone last week.”
“And his relationship with Milan is why you were looking sad this week,” Gianna added.
I pursed my lips. “I’m fine,” I told them as I ushered them out of my classroom. “And I don’t know anything about any of that.”
Gianna stared at me with a skeptical look. “I know it’s you, Ms. Payne. And I’m sorry about this whole Milan situation. He looked better with you.”
Drea nodded. “Sure did. And from the video, he knows it too.”
I shook my head. “You two get home safely. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Turning on my heel, I walked out of the building. As soon as I got in my car, I went to social media to find the video the girls were referencing.
“We really appreciate you taking the time to sit down with us to answer a few questions,” the interviewer started.
