Got It Going On by Stephanie Perry Moore Page B

on.
    â€œShe’s in here!” Isha called out.
    I was so down and depressed I was having an out-of-body experience. My room was filled with my line sisters, yet I still felt like I was all alone. Isha lifted my head, and when she let go, it fell again.
    â€œUnless she’s in the hospital,” Ginger’s voice continued through the receiver, “I’m reporting her, and she’s gonna lose her position as captain. He might just kick her off the team altogether. Ain’t nothing wrong with her. And if it is, what have y’all Pis been letting the Betas do to you guys anyway? Something illegal?”
    â€œOkay, that’s it. This chick is starting to get on my last nerve. All in our business and stuff,” Cheryl said, frustrated with Ginger’s attitude. Cheryl bent down, and tears started coming from her eyes. I must have been in bad shape for Cheryl to break down like this. When I didn’t respond, Cheryl said, “Come on, Cassidy. So many people need you. What’s wrong, girl?”
    Isha said, “I just don’t like this, you guys.”
    Cheryl grabbed my arm and quickly let it go. “Man, she’s completely cold. Looks like she hasn’t bathed either. Shut that window. She’s freezing. Pis, we gotta help our line sister.”
    I felt covers around me and someone touching my feet. I felt so much care and concern, but I was too far gone to appreciate it. What was wrong with me?
    â€œOh! It stinks in here, guys. Look at the mess she’s made. We gotta get her to the tub,” Isha said when the covers on my bed were peeled back.
    â€œHold on, now. I ain’t doing all that,” Cheryl said.
    â€œWell, I’ll help clean her up,” Isha volunteered.
    When they lifted me up I didn’t make a fuss. I didn’t say stop, leave me alone, get out. Nothing. I was still stuck in a daze. I wasn’t drugged up, but again, it sure did feel like I was on some weird high or low.
    An hour went by. I was clean and dry, and I was staring at a fresh bowl of chicken noodle soup in front of me. Bad as my stomach wanted it, my hands just couldn’t lift the spoon to feed myself.
    â€œY’all think she’s on drugs?” Sam asked in a caring tone.
    â€œThis is really scary,” Isha said as she walked over and wrapped her arms around my neck. “Come on, Cassidy. Please talk to us and tell us what’s wrong.”
    How could I tell them what was wrong when I didn’t know myself? We had lost three line sisters, and we were desperately trying to bond. I was an only child, and I longed for sisterhood so I could be around a family that truly cared for me. I sat there unable to communicate with them—to reach out and thank them for not giving up on me.
    Cheryl, in particular, was being very motherly. When I wasn’t eating, she was practically forcing the fluids down my throat. The girls were getting on her about making certain I did not choke. Cheryl replied, “Don’t worry. I got this. We’re gonna get her well. Something traumatic has caused her to freak out like this. She needs us.”
    â€œShould we call the paramedics? The police? We can’t keep letting her respond to us like this. What if somebody really did give her something? What if she’s in pain?” Isha asked, pacing tensely around the place.
    When I saw two tears slowly drop, one from Isha and one from Sam, I uttered, “I’m okay.”
    I spoke in such a whisper they couldn’t even hear what I said. They knew I was saying something. And though I gave only a small response, I knew my line sisters were grateful. As Cheryl held my hand, I felt thankful. Someway, somehow we were going to figure out my issues together.
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    After eating the whole bowl of soup, I felt better. Physically, at least. Mentally, I was still very torn. Emotionally, I was ecstatic to have my line sisters surrounding me in the apartment I shared with