“You can do that?”
“Sometimes,” said Amy, with a bright smile. “If the baby cooperates.” She slid the wand around on Sasha’s stomach. Sasha heard a whooshing sound and then a steady beat, like a tiny drum.
“There is the heartbeat,” said Amy. “Sounds awesome! Baby is moving nicely.”
“That’s my baby?” asked Sasha, stunned. She had refused to go to the doctor for the last few months whenever anyone mentioned it. “Somebody really is going to wear those tiny clothes, for real?”
“Look at the picture,” said Amy, pointing to the black and white screen. “There is the head, this is the body and look, the baby is sucking his widdle thumb. Awwwwww!”
“It’s a boy?” asked Sasha, in wonder.
“Let’s check!” said Amy, moving the wand. She tapped Sasha’s belly with her fingers to no avail. “No, sorry, can’t tell. The little stinker has the legs crossed over for modesty!”
Sasha laughed. “It’s okay, maybe it’s better if I get a surprise.”
“I like surprises, too,” said Amy, smiling. “Are you excited about your baby?”
“I wasn’t,” said Sasha, still staring at the screen. “Until now. Can I get a picture to keep?”
“Absolutely,” said Amy. She printed out the picture and handed it to Sasha, with a flourish.
“You baby’s first photo op,” said Amy.
“Wow.”
Sasha smiled. For the first time in nearly two months she felt a little hope.
Damon and Brielle
The dance was an enchanted evening for Brielle. Damon turned out to be a pretty good dancer. He didn’t get mad when she danced with other boys, but just sat and watched her. A couple of other girls asked him to dance and he quietly shook his head.
Brielle came to the table breathless after a particularly fast song.
“Why aren’t you dancing?” she asked.
“No reason,” he said. “I’m not that big on dances.”
“Oh,” said Brielle, surprised. “You’re a really good dancer. I love to dance.”
“I could tell,” he said, with a smile. “I like to watch you.”
“Where’d you learn to dance, then?” asked Brielle.
“Jada makes me practice with her,” said Damon.
At that moment Jamel came up with Kyzie.
“Hey, Bri,” he yelled. “Come dance!”
He looked at Damon and Damon nodded permission. Brielle waved at him and left with Jamel.
“Come on Damon,” said Kyzie, holding out her hand. “You can dance with me. My date has been swarmed by a bunch of boys.” She gestured towards Sammie and a crowd of boys.
“You don’t even like me,” said Damon. “Why do you want to dance?”
She leaned closer to him.
“I’ve been watching you with my sister,” she said, cocking her head to study him. “And you treat her nice and respectful. So, I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. Plus, all these other girls are about to swoop down and I’m saving you from a cat fight.”
Damon laughed and stood up. Kyzie smiled. For one moment Damon was struck by how much the sisters resembled each other, although feature by feature, they looked nothing alike. It was more in the expressions, he concluded.
“Lead the way,” he said. After that, he danced with safe girls, Sammie, Kyzie or Asia. When a slow song came on Kyzie abandoned him on the floor and went and found another boy to dance with. Damon searched the room and found Brielle. She was standing on the dance floor, trying to pull away from Chauncey. She did not look happy. Chauncey was dressed in dress pants and a dress shirt with his football jersey over it, still savoring the win against Lansing Southern. Damon hoped that the fool had at least washed the thing before he put it back on.
“I think this is my dance,” said Damon, taking Brielle by her free hand.
“I thought she was your little sister,” said Chauncey, not letting go.
Damon leaned in so Chauncey could hear him over the music. “I changed my mind.”
“I see why,” said Chauncey with a wicked grin. Damon jerked back a little as he got a blast of liquor on Chauncey’s breath. “I didn’t realize she was so fine. Boy, if she was mine, I’d--,”
“Do nothing,” said Damon, firmly. He met Chauncey’s eyes boldly.
“Oh,” said Chauncey. “It’s like that.”
“Yeah,” said Damon, hoping that Chauncey was not too drunk to see reason. Fortunately, Chauncey was happy when he was drinking and thrilled about the earlier game.
“Man, why didn’t you say you had dibs on the biddy?” he complained good naturedly.
“Excuse me,” said Brielle, trying to free her hands. Chauncey released Brielle’s hand. Damon held the other one firmly.
“My bad,” said Damon. He pulled Brielle close and slung an arm around her shoulders. She looked mad enough to skin Chauncey with her bare hands.
Charlene came up to Chauncey and he walked off the dance floor with her without a backward glance. Damon pulled Brielle into his arms and started to move to the music. She followed his steps easily.
“Excuse me,” repeated Brielle. “The biddy?”
“It’s only a figure of speech. A biddy is a little chicken,” explained Damon. “Like a ‘chick’. Besides, he didn’t mean anything by it, he was drunk.”
“That football head,” said Brielle, disgusted. “Humph. As though I’d ever talk to him. And I knew what he meant by biddy. I wasn’t mad about that, anyway.”
Damon raised an eyebrow.
“He showed me this quarter and flipped it and asked me what were the chances of him getting heads tonight,” said Brielle, still ticked. Damon froze and Brielle stumbled
“What the-,” he said, instantly enraged. He righted her. The look on his face frightened Brielle so much she tightened her hold on him.
“Don’t do anything,” she said. “He was drunk.”
Damon’s jaw was tight. “That’s no excuse for talking to you like that.”
“It’s okay, Damon,” said Brielle. “He was trying to be funny, that’s all.”
“Ha-ha,” said Damon. “It’s not funny. I’m about to get some things straight with
