Free Pushin' by L. Divine Page B

these people on a regular basis.
    â€œYes, Jayd. Outsiders: people who are not a part of your family, your lineage, your bloodline. Your destiny was carved out way before you were even thought of, little girl. And the path you’re etching out for yourself is in direct contradiction to that divine destiny.” Mama continues her reading, taking one of the loose note cards from the ancient text and using it as a bookmark. Unlike the pages in this book, my life’s not written yet.
    â€œDon’t I get a say in the way my life unfolds?” I know I sound like a bratty teenager but for real. I’ve been living this spiritual life for seventeen years now. When do I get a break to just do me? I know my life includes the crazy dreams and everything else that comes with my lineage, and I’ve accepted that. But there has to be a way to balance the best of both worlds. Otherwise, what’s the point?
    â€œOf course you do, just like your mama did. And we see how well that turned out,” Mama says, eyeing the weathered pages in front of her. I don’t like where this conversation is leading and from the look of it, neither does my grandmother.
    â€œBut my mom turned out okay in the end,” I say, fingering the five jade bracelets on my left arm. I wonder if they can protect me against the wrath I feel coming from Mama.
    â€œYes, she did. And as her mother, I’m just grateful she’s alive and healthy—for the most part.”
    â€œWhat do you mean, ‘for the most part’? Is there something I should know?” I ask, alarmed at the possibility my mother’s ill or something else just as disturbing.
    â€œNothing that you aren’t already aware of,” Mama says, rubbing her tired eyes underneath her reading glasses. “For a priestess to lose her power is tantamount to one losing a hand or the use of their eyes. So like I said, Lynn Marie is healthy, for the most part.”
    â€œI don’t see what me getting involved in more school activities has to do with my sight. I’m still dreaming and retaining my memory, just like I’m supposed to,” I say, stopping short of admitting I’ve retained more than a memory from one of my dreams about my mother. I’m still in disbelief that I’ve kept her powers, but I’m not letting Mama know or she’ll strip me of them before I can make a good case as to why I should keep them. They’ve already been beneficial to my friends and Mrs. Carmichael, and that has to count for something.
    â€œYes, about that,” Mama says, turning the book around to face me. “You have no idea what you’re supposed to be able to do because you don’t spend enough time on your spirit studies. How do you know what your true potential is if you don’t invest fully in your talent?”
    â€œExactly my point about cheer and becoming a debutante,” I say, surprised at the logic in my argument. Why am I so gung ho about making a case for my newfound activities when I myself am fundamentally against becoming active in either group? I guess now that they’re on the table I feel like I want to keep them, just like my mom’s cold-ass abilities and my bid for ASU president. They’re both in my destiny and it’s time to claim them.
    â€œJayd, what the hell good is becoming a debutante going to do you? Those heffas know nothing about real work or our way of life. All they do is sip tea and talk shit,” Mama says, shuddering at the thought. “Trust me, Jayd, I know more about that world than you realize. Me and Teresa go way, way back and despite her name, she’s no saint.” I’ve never heard Mama refer to Nigel’s mother by her first name. I almost forgot she had one.
    â€œI know she’s a tough lady, but this opportunity is bigger than her. Besides, I gave my word.” I look at the wall clock and realize it’s already past noon. I need to do my