“You better work, Clementine!”
“AND WHAT BETTER PLACE?!” She let out, pausing for the dramatics as she flipped her hair back. “WHERE BLACKNESS IS DEFINED BY MAGIC! ANCESTRY! CULTURE AND REGIONS! MY BLACKNESS?!” She questioned with a roll of her neck. “GOES BACK SINCE THE BEGINNING OF TIME!”
“Yesss ma’am!” Someone shouted.
“WHERE BLACKNESS?!” She screamed with a whip of her hair. “IS ME! FROM MY SKINNNN! TO MY VOICE!? MY SOUL! MY HAAAAAAAIR! DOWN TO THE DEEPEST OF THE ROOTS WHERE MY FAMILY LAID WORK DOWN! TO THE WAY I…” Clementine suddenly let out a series of steps and claps. “STOMP INTO MY STEP FROM THE MOTHERLAND!”
“Yasss queen! Preach!”
“THE WAY MI,” swaying her hips in a slow wind. “WINE SLOW PON DI RIDDUM FROM THE CARIBBEAN ISLANDS!”
The cheers were constant. She slowly brought her hips back to the center and grinned before letting her arms stretch out with a sway.
“THE WAY I SWAG WHEN I SURF BECAUSE IT’S FOREVER A.T.L.A.N.T.A IN THIS THANG!” Everyone began to scream before she barked back. “HOE!”
“ATL HOE! ATL HOE!” They chanted. Clementine whipped her hair from side to side, settling the noise as everyone became quiet.
“SO GREETINGS TO MY BLACKNESS FROM UP NORTH! MY BLACKNESS OUT WEST! MY BLACKNESS BIRTHED AND FOUNDED IN THE SOUTH! BLACKNESS IN THE ISLANDS AND MY BLACKNESS FROM THE MOTHA! WE?! ARE?! PROUD!? TOOOOO!” She squealed with a shimmy of her shoulders before her hands clapped at her hips in unison to stand upright. Men began barking, shouting while the girls screamed. I couldn’t help but smile because she was good, she was damn good with including bits of culture from different regions.
“TO HOST SUCH EXCELLENCE AT THEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”
She dragged on as everyone began to chant behind her, building up to the hype and name of our school.
“THEE DREW COLLINS UNIVERSITY!”
The drums grew louder as the trumpets started to blow in the distance as colorful confetti blew out and trickled in the air. Clementine did her march into the school with the rest of the sorority girls in green and white following behind her from the crowd. I could see the drum majors in their maroon and white uniforms marching down as they began to dance.
“No other band does it like the Maroon Machine! The Official Sound! The Half time is Game Time marching baaaaaaaannnnnd of Drew Collins University!” The announcer screamed. “The games this year will be a mental and physical test of the elements! I give you our hosting school! DREEEEEEEEEW COLLINNNNNNNNS. TheOFFICIAL HOME OF THE SPIRITUAL AND ROOTS! All your spell binding needs that a witch may ever need!”
“The home of the what?!” Quan let out as he looked around. It was too much excitement to hear the change in title of our school. Either nobody noticed or nobody cared. The rest of the crowd just began cheering. The drum majors came marching down with their jumps and gold batons swinging in the air. I could see the giant float of a black trojan warrior positioned to fight as the four decorated athletes waved to the crowd. The students usually wore their designated school colors but this year, everyone was in all black. The women had their tall pointy hats which is something of a mockery more than an actual witch. No real witch, priestess or root woman wears a pointy black hat. It was foolish. The women, in long black dresses with the dramatic sleeves teasing the ground, the men tall, and strong in their black suits and shades. Where are the rest of the colors? Even the athletes were dressed mostly in black.
“Where is Namir?” I asked out loud, seeing the other coaches walking behind their chosen athletes for the game. The announcer went on to state their names and where they’re from as everyone began to cheer.
“They are slowly replacing everything and making this a witch’s school.” Someone said from behind us. Sure enough, there were students, mostly women, pranced behind the witches’ blowing kisses at the crowd when they all shifted into an assortment of felines walking on all fours. Their tails stuck up in the air with her chins held high as they daintily walked on their toes. Another group of witches walked behind them as they used their hands to create a cloud of black smoke in the shape of athletes running in the air, charging towards a goal. There was no hint of the other schools present at Drew Collins. Justwitches, priestesses, root workers and spell binders. There were no sirens, no obvious shifters, nothing to show the diversity in mythics. Just…witches and their familiars. Even Quan looked turned off by the idea and he was a feline.
“The knights have landed on enemy territory!” The announcer shouted. I watched my school pass by to get through the iron gates. It didn’t look like anything I’ve ever attended. Drew Collins was always about unison and exclusivity, regardless of what you are or practice. The moment you’re in Drew Collins, that becomes your identity. This was nothing like that. Not anymore. “Society Hill University! SHOW! US! WHAT! YOU! GAAAAAAAAAAT!”
The change in the drumlines became apparent when the trumpets began to blare out. The gold and green uniforms flashed, and a sea of decorated students charged towards us in the lineup. “Let’s gooooo HILLMENNNNN!” Someone shouted from behind. The athletes were decorated with arms and confetti around them as the four men clapped and cheered for themselves and those around them.
“Society Hill ain’t got nothing on D.C.U! This ain’t New Orleans baby! This is the Underground right under the city of AYEE TEEE ELLLLLE!” The announcer shouted as everyone began cheering. You could see the Society Hill cheerleaders flipping in the air as they skipped along the way. The students with the colorful masks over their eyes, mimicking the New Orleans style culture during Mardi Gras. There were others with large, decorated wings filled with colorful feathers and massive headdresses to match. The band began to play an up tempo beat as everyone started dancing and shuffling with their feet from side to side. It was reminiscent of a second line in New Orleans.
“Let’s go baby!!” One of the Hill men shouted as people began clapping on beat. You could still hear Drew Collins band in the front but as Society Hill University passed us by, the difference was obvious.
“WHAT UP COLLY!?” One of the men shouted with multiple tongue piercings. He flexed his muscles, showing off his biceps before running up to do a back flip. One man who was shirtless with a bedazzled mask over his eyes came over towards me as he began to dance in his denim jeans and sneakers. Sweat beads dripped down the center of his chest when he leaned in close and blew out colorful green and gold confetti that shifted into the shape of fairies flying away. Faes were notorious for going to Society Hill as it was the easiest school to attend in the Underground and unofficially known as the school for the less than average. Yet somehow, this was Drew Collins biggest rival culturally.
“Society Hill setting it off with the first shots towards Drew Collins!” The announcer shouted as more of the students came walking down with a giant float of a vampire with white hair and white teeth. The angry red eyes and claws for hands chopped away in the air as the students dressed in Drew Collins colors, danced around it pretending to scream and fear for their lives. “Tell em, we don’t know nothing about that First Family mess! This is yo time to shine and you made it about us! Society Hill can’t help but to make it about us when it comes to them!”
I felt my chest tighten when I saw Society Hill students attack the float while others marched with students in chains. They had noticeable white hair and pretended to be a Drew Collins student. They were mocking Maggie Grey, pretending to have her in chains as she held her head down in shame. Her grandfather, our founder and president, sulked behind her. Thestudent pretended to be an old man with white eyes trudging along with shackles at his feet and a torn suit covered in blood splatter.
“Death to the First! Death to the First!” They began chanting, attempting to get the crowd going. Some were with it; others simply couldn’t bring themselves to say it out loud. I hadn’t noticed Quan staring so intensely at the float until I looked up, seeing his jawline twitch with irritation. He looked like he wanted to say something, maybe even react but when I grabbed his arm again, he visibly calmed himself down as his shoulders dropped.
“We don’t have to stay long,” I said, barely above the shouting and screams.
“The innovators! The brains! The creatives! The one and only! Mr. and Mrs. Underground! MONNNNNNTCLAIR AND MONROEEEEE University! How y'all looking?! Slowly becoming the fastest growing private institution in the Underground, Montclair and Monroe are known for the builders, the brains, and the best of the best!”
The marching band decorated in blue and grey came walking down as their students stepped with prestige and grace. The women wore pleated skirts that flowed below their knees, and the men wore suits. They escorted their athletes who waved when we suddenly heard a warrior’s scream in the distance. The large afros from an army of students dressed in colorful kimonos were shuffling in the traditional block like sandals before pausing as they pulled out a sword.
“Alright now! The University to beat that has everyone talking! This will be the first time this school competes in the Underground, and they are coming after Drew Collins' title!YASUUUUKAAAAAY, what’s up! All the way from Japan! The first and only school for African ancestry that studies the art of the sword and Japanese culture!”
