Page 4 of So I Know it's Real

“I’m headed that way. I just wanted to see what your fine self was getting into after work.”

I ushered a mop and bucket from the closet then faced the rambunctious student. “I’ll be in a jail cell for smacking you if you don’t watch your mouth. Have respect for your elders and women.”

“Graar!” He clawed at the air. “Just like I like my women. Thick, dark brown—”

“Boy! Go to class before I call Coach Peterson and tell him you’re roaming the halls.”

Reggie trekked backward with his hands in the air. “I’m going. I’m going. I see it’s not a good day. I’ll bother you later, Ms. Clover. Stay up!”

I dropped my head when the corners of my lips turned up on the ends. The last thing I needed was for one of the knuckleheads at the academy to think I found their remarks entertaining. My job was as valuable as my faith, and I couldn’t afford to lose either.

“Clover? Are you coming this way today or tomorrow?”

A gust of air cut through my slender nostrils while I gripped the side of my walkie. “Johnson, I’m on my way.”

After working with the old man for four years, I was used to him being impatient. He was born and raised in Mississippi, old enough to be my grandpa, and was the father of six girls. The grouch reminded me a lot of my daddy, so I knew his pestering was innocent.

I made it to the entrance of the west hall right as my phone vibrated in my back pocket. I doubled tapped the AirPod in my ear, immediately greeted by my best friend’s cheers.

“Can I speak to Ms. 10k?” Karlie quizzed in a proper voice.

“This is she. Is this Fenty Beauty or Curves calling with a brand deal?”

“Ugh. You can’t fit, nor do you wear Curves’ granny clothes.”

“Not true. These thick thighs can’t fit into anything smaller than a size twelve,” I replied. “What’s going on? You know I can’t talk while on the clock.”

“Right. I just wanted to congratulate you on your milestone. You have ten thousand followers and can join the Creator Fund.You know that means a bag. My friend is too fly to be cleaning up behind spoiled gremlins.”

The confidence Karlie had in me was exactly why I loved her so much. Death wasn’t an ideal occurrence to bond over, yet it aligned our paths four years ago. Her baby passed during birth, and I lost the love of my life to gun violence. The support group seemed to be a sanctuary for us, but thankfully, our connection branched beyond our shared trauma.

“I’m not going to hold you, but we have to celebrate. Let’s do karaoke tonight.”

“I’ll see if my parents will keep the boys. Bye,” I mumbled while approaching Johnson and our boss, Mr. Sudan. The stench of old food and cheap cologne stung my sight as my vision bounced between the men.

“Looks like Ms. Popular finally came to work.” Mr. Sudan was the first to speak.

“I’m always here to work, sir. There was something that required my attention on the other side of the property. I handled that before coming this way.”

“Well, I’m happy to know you aren’t using company time to record content.” He tugged on his tailored blazer and scanned me with a pointed gaze. “I would hate to see your social media fame interfere with an honest living.”

“Mr. Sudan,” Johnson called out. “I can assure you that Ms. Clover comes to work to handle business. She knows what pays the bills.”

My eyes drifted to Johnson, who winked at me. The old man stayed on my case, but he always had my back when others played in my face. Like most people who worked at Silk Hills Academy, Johnson knew my employment at the school allowed my boys to receive a private education at a discounted price.

“Johnson, you’re validating her work ethic. What about her work attire?” Mr. Sudan circled me. “I can write you up for notfollowing proper dress code. The big pockets on your pants, the rolled-up sleeves. Your hair isn’t even in a ponytail.”

“Technically, I am following the dress code. I just styled it better than you would.”

Only me and Johnson found my joke funny, though I hadn’t told a lie. The policy stated if I wasn’t wearing janitor’s overalls, my black polo and tan pants were acceptable. My bra-length blunt cut was also in compliance with the rules.

“Mr. Sudan, if you don’t mind.” I motioned toward the wet spot. “I’d like to clean up this mess before the bell rings.”

“No problem. I’ll be back to check on you.”

I plastered on a phony smile. “I look forward to it.”

After my exchange with the head honcho, the day seemed to fly by. I stocked the bathrooms and cafeteria for Monday morning then traveled to the other side of campus. Since the school enrolled students from kindergarten to ninth grade, the property was massive. I could skip the gym for a month of Sundays and still burn calories as if I had used a machine.

---