by Amir Abrams
“Kayla,” he says, reaching over to my mom, touching her arm. “Not now, sweetheart.”
Not now, sweetheart? What kinda ish is that? How ’bout not now, not ever!
“Erik, she’s too young for that type of car, and you know it. I don’t know what you were thinking going out spending that kind of money on her, without even discussing it with me.”
Daddy cuts his eyes over at her. But as usual doesn’t check her.
“Ummm,” I say sarcastically, “maybe he was thinking he can trust me. That I’m responsible; that I have a four-point-oh GPA, and am in the honor society. Um, oh wait. How ’bout this one: I’m his daughter and I deserve nice things, ’cause I earn them and he can afford it.”
“Don’t go there with me,” she snaps. “You get nice things, expensive things, all the time.”
“You are such a hater.”
“You better watch your mouth, young lady.” She scowls. “Before I reach back and smack you in it.”
“C’mon, both of you stop this bickering,” Daddy says, sounding frustrated.
“Erik, are you going sit there and let her talk to me like that?” Wicked Witch huffs, shooting him a look.
He shakes his head. “Listen. For once, can’t the two of you get along long enough to get through one whole evening?”
“It’s her, Daddy,” I offer, pouting. “She did the same thing to Erika, and that’s why they never got along. And now she’s doing it to me.”
“Kamiyah, that’s enough,” Daddy warns. But I’m not hearing him.
“Girl,” my mom says through clenched teeth, “I will reach back there and smack all thirty-two of them straight teeth my money paid for, right down your throat if you say that one more time. I’m your mother, not one of your little ghetto friends in the streets.”
“I don’t have ghetto friends, thank you very much. But it’s mighty funny how you seem to forget that that’s exactly where you came from.”
Her eyes almost pop out of her sockets. “Kamiyah Mychele Nichols, have you lost your damn mind, young lady? Don’t you ever, and I do mean ever, talk to me in that tone or fashion. You’re grounded.”
“Grounded? For what? For reminding you that you come from the guts of Newark?”
“No. For reminding me that you are too damn grown and fresh at the mouth. I think you forget who the mother is, and who the child is. So until you get your attitude in check, you’re grounded. Do you understand me?”
I ignore her.
“I said, do you understand me?”
“Mmmph,” I grunt, biting my tongue.
Daddy swerves the car over to the side of the road and abruptly stops, causing my body to jerk to the side. Mom and I both look at him, wondering what’s going on.
“Both of you—stop it! I don’t want to hear another damn thing from either one of you while I’m driving. So if you want to argue, do it now. Get it all out, now! Because once I start this car and it starts moving—again, I don’t want to hear nothing else from either of you.”
I think about something really, really sad, like my grandma dying, until my eyes get all teary and whatnot. I dab at my eyes with my fingers when I see Daddy looking at me in the mirror again. Tears always work with him.
“Kayla, I bought the car for Kamiyah and she’s keeping it, end of discussion.” I smirk, wiping a single tear that finally slides down my cheek.
Mom glares at him, then turns back around in her seat and leaves me the hell alone.
“And as for you, young lady, don’t you ever let me hear you speak to your mother like that again. No matter what you feel, she is still your mother. And you are to respect her, you hear me?”
“Yes,” I softly say.
“Good,” he says, turning the ignition. “I love both of you, but I swear the two of you are gonna drive me to drink.”
“Well, if she’s keeping the car,” Mom says tightly, “then we’re going to need to discuss some strict ground rules.”
“And we will. But not tonight, so let’s drop it.”
“And she’s still going to be on punishment.”
I roll my eyes up in my head.
“And she will be, but not tonight.”
Mom glares at him. I’m sure she’s shocked as much as I am that Daddy spoke to her that way in front of me. It’s about time he checks her! Yeah—#teamdaddy all the way! He turns the stereo on. His favorite station, WBLS, is playing. I pull out my cell when I hear it buzzing in my bag. Ameerah sent me a text confirming what time to be at my house tonight. I text her back, telling her to let everyone know to be there at ten o’clock. Next I read Sincere’s text: HEY, BEAUTIFUL. THNKN ABT U. CALL ME B/4 U GO 2 SLEEP.
I smile, feeling more relaxed. I text back: AWW, THANKS, BABY! I’M THNKN ABT U 2!
Sincere and I text back ’n’ forth:
SINCERE: SO R U HAVN FUN?
ME: I WAS
SINCERE: WHAT HAPPND?
ME: THE WICKED WITCH
SINCERE: WHO?
ME: MY MOTHER! BUT I DON’T WANNA GET IN2 IT
SINCERE: K, COOL. I WANNA C U
ME: AWWW, ME 2. I MISS U LIKE CRAZY
SINCERE: WHAT U MISS?
ME: U SILLY
SINCERE: WHAT ELSE?
ME: LOL. NO COMMENT
SINCERE: CAN I STOP BY 2NITE 2 BRING U UR GIFT? I DON’T WANNA WAIT TIL SUN
ME: SURE
SINCERE: I’M LEAVING NOW
ME: I’M NOT HOME YET
SINCERE: I’MA WAIT 4 U BABY
ME: AWW, K. C U!
SINCERE:
I slip my phone back into my bag, then lay my head back on the headrest, smiling ear to ear with thoughts of seeing Sincere, hanging out with my girls tonight, and getting behind the wheel of my BMW!
3
Like he said he would be, Sincere is sitting in his truck waiting for me when we pull into the driveway. I don’t even wait for Daddy to come to a complete stop before I swing open the car door and practically jump out and race over to his truck. Sincere smiles at me and gets out of his truck. The minute I see the signature blue box from Tiffany & Co. he’s holding in his hand, I know it’s jewelry.
I smile wider. “Oh, wow, for me?” I ask, acting surprised.
He hands me my gift, giving me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Happy birthday, baby.”
“Awww, thank you. You shouldn’t have.”
“Yeah, right,” he says, laughing. He playfully tries to grab the box out of my hand. “Then let me take it back to the store.”
I swat his hand away. “Uh, I don’t think so; wrong answer.”
“Yeah, I thought so.”
I open my mouth to say something sideways but, of course, the Wicked Witch has to be all up in mine.
“Hey, Sincere,” she says, acting like she’s Miss Mom of the Year. I roll my eyes.
“Hi, Missus Nichols,” Sincere says, giving her a wave. He’s so polite and well-mannered and so dang . . . fine!
The minute Daddy steps out of the car, Sincere speaks to him, too. “Hey, Mister Nichols.”
Daddy says hi back. Asks him how his parents are doing. He tells Daddy they’re good. Daddy wants to know how he’s doing in school. Of course Daddy wants to know that he’s keeping up his grades so that he can pledge next semester. Sincere tells him he’s doing well. Daddy goes to say something else, but I tilt my head, giving him my will-you-please-beat-it look.
“Good seeing you, Sincere,” he says, taking the hint and walking toward the house.
“You, too, Mister Nichols.”
“Kamiyah,” the Wicked Witch says, “why don’t you invite Sincere in until your company gets here?”
I don’t answer. I turn my back on her.
“Kamiyah, did you hear me?”
I keep ignoring her.
“It’s cool, Missus Nichols. I can’t stay long. I only came by to bring Kamiyah her gift, and to give her a birthday hug.”
“Well, that was—”
I crane my neck, glancing ove
r my shoulder at her. “Um, hellooooo,” I snap, finally turning to face her. “Do you mind? I mean, he’s here to see me.”
“Kamiyah, don’t—”
“Kayla,” Daddy says, coming back to the front door, cutting her off before she tries to get it popping out here. “C’mon in and let them be. I have something I want to show you upstairs.” I smirk.
“Kamiyah, don’t be out here too long,” Daddy says to me.
“I won’t, Daddy,” I say, all sweet and whatnot.
The Wicked Witch stares me down. I turn my back on her again. “Good night, Sincere,” she says.
“Good night, Missus Nichols.”
She grits her teeth. “Kamiyah, I’ll speak to you later.”
“Whatever,” I mumble under my breath as she angrily walks off, her heels stabbing the pavement with each step toward the house.
Sincere looks at me. “Why do you treat your mom like that? She seems mad cool.”
“Oh, please. You don’t have to live with her.”
“Well, you still shouldn’t treat her like that.”
Well, she shouldn’t be such an evil woman. And you need to mind your damn business, is what I’m thinking, but I keep my thoughts in check. “Did you come here to lecture me?” I ask, raising a brow and placing a hand on my hip.
He smiles at me. “Nah, I came to see my girl.”
I smirk. “I’m not your girl.” I glance down at my feet and notice there’s a smudge on the toe of one of my new boots. I hand Sincere my gift so I can try to wipe it off.
“Yeah, right. You already know what it is. Now let me check out the new whip.”
“C’mon.” I grab his hand and practically drag him up the driveway to my car. Before I can go in to get the key, Daddy opens the front door and disarms the alarm so I can open the door and show Sincere the inside. “Thanks, Daddy,” I say, smiling. “You’re the best.”
“Yeah, I am, aren’t I,” he says, chuckling. He goes back inside and lets me and Sincere be.
“Damn, baby, this is sweet,” Sincere says, sticking his head in. I tell him to get in. He does, and I walk over to the driver’s side and get in. Sincere runs his hand over the dashboard and wood-grain finish, admiring all of its fly-ness. “Real nice.”
“I know, I love it,” I say, gripping the steering wheel. I am so wrapped up on the smell and the feel of my car that I almost forget Sincere has my gift in his hand.
“Here,” he says, handing the box back as if he read my mind. “Open your gift so I can see that pretty smile of yours.” I take it from him, grinning as I rip open the blue wrapping paper, then open the box.
I gasp. “Ohmygod, I love it,” I say, reaching over and giving him a hug and kiss on the lips. He bought me an eighteen-karat white-gold heart tag charm. “It’s beautiful.”
“Like you,” he says, smiling at me. And even though he didn’t tell me he loved me today, I can tell Sincere really is big on me. But I’m not gonna be completely satisfied until I know for certain I have him wrapped around my manicured fingers.
“Aww, you’re so sweet. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome, baby. You deserve it.” He leans over and kisses me again; this time he slips his tongue in. When we finally finish our tongue dance, I’m almost dazed. Kissing him is like eating a whole bag of Reese’s Pieces. And I loooove me some Reese’s Pieces; whew . . . delicious!
“C’mon, get out so I can put on your necklace and see how fly my baby looks with it on.”
He doesn’t have to tell me twice. I hop out and walk over to him, turning my back to him. I pull my hair up. He kisses me on the back of the neck. His lips feel good on my skin. I want him soooo bad! But I’ma keep it fly. He fastens the clasp of the necklace around my neck. Tells me he charged it on his dad’s American Express card and has to pay him back. But who cares? My necklace is beautiful. It hangs perfect! I turn to face him.
“I’ve never bought any girl jewelry this expensive before, but there’s something real special about you and I really dig you, Miyah.”
I look up, gazing into his hazel eyes, and know for certain that I am in love with him. “I’m never taking it off.”
“It looks beautiful on you,” he says, gazing back at me. His hands are on my waist, pulling me into him. They are big and strong, and feel good on my body. I’m not gonna front. I’m happy to see him, but . . . I’m happier to see the banging gift he bought me.
“You feel so good,” he says, leaning in and trying to kiss me. I jerk my head back, pushing him back with the palm of my hand.
“Hold up. Just because you bought me a lil sumthin-sumthin’,” I say, smirking, “don’t be thinking you’re gonna be jizzing it up on me. You got the wrong memo. I’m not that kinda girl.”
He laughs. “‘Jizzin’ it up,’ hahahaha. Yo, you mad funny. Where’d you get that from?”
I eye him real sexy-like. “Oh, so you not tryna grind up on me?”
He eyes me back. “Nah . . . I’m tryna hold you close and whisper something in your ear.”
I playfully mush him. “Yeah, right. And what were you gonna say?”
He smiles wider, taking my hand in his, pulling me toward his truck. “Come here and let me tell you.”
I glance over my shoulder to see if my nosy mother is peeking through the curtains. Surprisingly, she’s not. Sincere leads me around to the driver’s side, then leans up against the door, pulling me into him. He kisses me on the lips again. We kiss for what feels like forever until I break away.
“You better stop before the Wicked Witch comes out and screams on you.”
He laughs. “Ya mom digs me. You see how she smiled at me when I spoke to her?”
I roll my eyes. “Boy, please. Whatever. It’s all an act, trust me. That woman is—”
He shuts me up with another kiss. It lingers longer than I’m used to. And I feel myself getting dizzy. His hands drop from my waist to the small of my back, then rest on my round behind. He squeezes.
Oh God, his hands feel so good on me. I feel myself starting to tingle inside. I pull myself away from his soft, juicy lips.
“So, um . . . what is it you wanted to whisper to me?”
His lips curl up into a sexy grin. He leans in and kisses me again, then kisses my neck. “You taste like candy, baby. . . real sweet.”
I lick my lips, grinning as he pulls me closer into him. “You want this candy?” I tease.
“Yeah,” he whispers into my ear in between more kisses. I feel like my whole body is on fire! Cool it, girl.
“Hold up . . . waaaaait a minute . . . let me get all up in it. Go get a room! Y’all two are straight nasty with it!”
Sincere and I jump. It’s my girl Zahara, sneaking up on us. She’s wearing a pair of black boy shorts, a cute white blouse that criss-crosses in the front and a pair of red six-inch peep-toe heels. Zahara is a pretty brown-skinned diva with big brown eyes and pouty lips. And at 5’3”, she never, ever, leaves the house without a pair of heels on. She lives for a fly pair of heels. She’s also the shortest one out of my clique. And she has the loudest mouth, too. But I love her dearly.
“Ohmygod, girl, will you be quiet, coming up here all loud and whatnot. You scared the crap outta me. Where the hell did you come from?”
She laughs. “My brother dropped me off on the corner. And I walked down. Heeey, Siiincere,” she says, almost singing his name.
“Wassup, Zee, right?”
“And you know it. Now you gonna have to poof, ’cause this is an all-girls night and ain’t no boys allowed up in here.”
“Don’t pay her nutty butt no mind,” I say, shaking my head. Zahara doesn’t care what she says.
He laughs, opening his door. “Nah, it’s all good. I’ma let you girls have ya girls’ night, but uh”—he pulls me into him—“you still didn’t answer my question.”
“What question was that?”
“You my girl or what?”
Well, of course I am. But I’m not going to tell him tonight. Always kee
p a guy guessing, I hear in my head. I grin. “Maybe.”
Zahara clears her throat, placing a hand on her hip. “Or maybe not. But tonight ain’t the time to be tryna figure it out.” She grabs me by the arm, pulling me and eyeing Sincere at the same time. “Sorry, boo-boo, but you gonna hafta get a rain check on that answer ’cause we got things to do.”
He laughs, getting into his truck. “A’ight, then. I’m out.”
Ameerah’s dad pulls up alongside of us, letting her out. All of my girls are pretty, but Ameerah is the prettiest out of all three of them. She has this beautiful reddish-brown skin that makes her look like she’s mixed with Native American. And her thick eyelashes and naturally arched eyebrows make her stand out even more. Me and Zahara wave at her dad. He waves back, then drives off. “Hey, birthday girl,” Ameerah says, opening her arms to give me a hug. She stops, holding a finger up. “Uh, wait a minute. Why we got boys here? This is ’posed to be girls only, or did I miss the memo?”
I roll my eyes. “There are no boys here. It’s only Sincere. And he’s leaving.”
She smacks her lips. “Oh, okay, ’cause I was sure ’bout to pull out my phone and hit up my boo, too, and tell him to come through.” She waves at Sincere. “Hey, Sincere.”
“Wassup, Ameerah, right?”
“All day, every day!” She turns her attention to me. “Where’s Brittani?”
“Here she comes now,” Zahara says, standing in the middle of the street with one hand up on her hip as Briana’s black Volvo cruises down the street.
I walk back over to Sincere’s truck as he starts the engine. “Thanks for my gift,” I say, touching my neck. “I meant it when I said I’m never taking it off.”
He smiles. “You better not. So that means I’m your man, right?”
I lean into his truck and kiss him on the lips. “I’ll think about it.”
He laughs. “Yeah, a’ight. Keep playin’ games if you want. I already know what it is.”
“Then stop asking,” I say, laughing with him as he pulls off.
Brittani hops out of the car, tossing the straps of her Prada bag up over her shoulder. She looks real cute in her short faded denim wrap dress and strappy sandals. Her shoulder-length, auburn-colored weave is styled into a messy side ponytail with her bangs sweeping in the same direction as her ponytail. The hair color against her milk-chocolate skin looks good. At first glance, she looks a lot like Meagan Good. “I know that wasn’t a boy I just saw,” she says, eyeing us.
