Zach chuckles because he is flattered.
Ramona: Sooo . . . Did you get what Mrs. Horan was talking about today in Algebra? I just
don’t get it. (Ramona is actually a wiz at Algebra but pretends she doesn’t understand it.)
Zach: Yeah, I understand it. All it is is a branch of mathematics that substitutes letters for
numbers. An algebraic equation represents a scale, what is done on one side of the scale with a
number is also done to the other side of the scale. The numbers are the constants. Algebra
includes real numbers, complex numbers, matrices, and vectors. That’s about it. If you want, I
can show you.
Ramona: What? Yeah, you’ll have to show me. But let’s change the subject. Keisha told me that
you told Kevin you had something to ask me. What did you want to ask me?
Zach: Dude can’t hold water.
Ramona: What is it?
Zach: When you gonna’ let me hit that?
Ramona: Huh? Hit what?
Zach: Hit THAT!
Ramona: I don’t know what you mean.
Zach: Look we’ve been going together for six months now and you know I love you girl. I think
it’s about time we make that move.
Ramona (lowering her tone): Zach, I don’t know. You know I want to save myself for
marriage. I don’t know. (Every scripture Ramona could think of on fornication flooded her
mind.) I mean, I want to but . . . .
Zach: If you love me like you say you do, then . . . .
Before Zach can finish his sentence and Ramona can respond, the door opens. Roberta walks in.
Ramona: Zach, I gotta’ go, I’ll talk to you tomorrow at school. Bye. (Ramona tells him quickly,
hanging up the phone.)
Roberta: Dinner is ready. Get washed up and come on downstairs. Was that Zach you were
talking to?
Ramona: Yes, ma’am.
Roberta: So are they coming over tomorrow?
Ramona: He said he would tell his mom.
Roberta: Look, Baby, if we decide to let you go to the dance, and that IS contingent on whether
or not we like him, you will be at home by ten.
Ramona: Ten?! Ma, the dance doesn’t end until eleven.
Roberta: Yes, ma’am, ten. Not a minute later because I know what goes on after ten and you
need to be here. Ain’t nothin’ open after ten . . . but legs!
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