Not A Good Look

by Nikki Carter

  “Yes, I can! I remember how it felt to get my first record deal.”

  “I guess you do know. But thank you just the same,” I say.

  “You’re welcome. Okay, I gotta go now, but I’ll be calling and checking on you. My mother can’t wait to meet you, too!”

  “All right, superstar,” Big D says. “We’ll talk to you later!”

  “’Bye, y’all!”

  We all yell good-bye into the speakerphone before Big D disconnects the call.

  “That’s what’s up! Mystique calling you just to say hi!” Big D slaps me a high five. “Get used to it, Sunday.”

  “How do you get used to somebody like Mystique calling you on the phone?” I ask.

  “You will. You’ll be getting calls from the entire industry soon,” Sam says.

  His voice doesn’t sound excited at all. He sounds sad.

  “Speaking of the industry. Everyone in the A is going to be at Truth’s album-release party next Friday at Club Pyramids. Make sure you’re red carpet ready, Sunday.”

  “Why does it have to be at Club Pyramids?”

  Big D replies, “They offered to host the party. Free is always good.”

  “I guess, but they’re a bunch of thugs over there,” I fuss.

  “That drama is not your drama, Sunday.”

  “I guess.”

  Big D puts his arm around me. “Plus, you’ll be there with me. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

  I give Big D a one-armed hug. He’s a big guy. But is he big enough to block a bullet?

  32

  Sam rolls through to pick me up for the release party. We’re going to all leave from the studio in a limo, so Sam is gonna take me over there. It feels like we’re going to prom!

  I went and got my hair done in a tight roller set that’s making me look like brown-i-locks or somebody! My dress is banging, too, but it’s not something I’d normally wear. I go for comfort, and this skintight silver mini is the opposite of comfortable. But the dress is more comfortable than these stiletto heels.

  “Sunday, honey, you look good!” my mother says.

  “Thank you.”

  “Be careful. I don’t want you getting hurt by any of Carlos’s enemies.”

  I give my mother a hug. “Mama, you don’t have to worry about that! Not tonight. It’s gonna be all good.”

  “Okay. But be safe, anyway. If something pops off, you make sure you’re going the opposite direction.”

  Sam steps through our front door. “You ready?”

  “Yes!”

  I follow Sam to his SUV and take in his outfit. Jeans, tight shirt, leather jacket, boots. He looks fine as what. I almost wish he was my date for the evening. “You looking hot, Sam,” I say before we get into his truck.

  Sam spins around and replies, “Like you care.”

  “What’s wrong with you?” I ask. “Why wouldn’t I care?”

  “I saw you, Sunday. I saw you kiss Truth!”

  He did see! No wonder he’s been tripping.

  “You saw Truth kiss me. I didn’t kiss him.”

  “I didn’t see you pushing him away.”

  “He caught me off guard. It was over before it started.”

  “Sunday, I’m not gonna keep diggin’ you the way I do if you’re feeling Truth. I can’t do it.”

  “I’m not feeling Truth.”

  “Are you feeling me, though? That’s the question.”

  “Sam…”

  “You know what, don’t even answer. It’s cool. Let’s do this party, do this red carpet bull, and get this paper.”

  Sam gets in the SUV and leaves me standing on the sidewalk looking crazy. He doesn’t even open the door for me like he always does. I let myself in the SUV.

  “Sam, I’m afraid that if we get together during this tour and reality show, we won’t last.”

  Sam rolls his eyes. “Whatever, Sunday.”

  “No, I’m for real! I don’t think it’ll work if it gets played out on TV for the world to see.”

  “Sunday…it’s cool. I get it, you’re on the come-up and you don’t want a boyfriend right now.”

  “Sam—”

  “No, let me finish. I haven’t been hearing you this whole time, because I keep thinking you’re feeling what I’m feeling. But it’s obvious that you’re not. I’m cool with being friends.”

  “You’re not angry?”

  “Naw. Just don’t think I’m gonna keep checking for you all like that.”

  “Okay, but can I ask you a question?”

  “What is it?” Sam asks.

  “Are you still taking me to prom or do I need to ask one of the tuba players from the marching band?”

  Sam sighs. “I want to go to prom with someone who’s digging me. So I guess not.”

  I swallow and look out of the window before he sees the tears in my eyes. I can’t believe he’s tripping all like this just because he saw Truth kiss me.

  “You know I don’t want Truth, right?” I ask.

  “Sunday, you don’t know what you want.”

  33

  Sam stands next to me as we walk down the red carpet at Club Pyramids.

  “You’re not smiling enough,” Sam whispers.

  “I am smiling.”

  “No, you’re grimacing.”

  “That’s because my feet hurt.”

  He laughs. “Why do you have on shoes that hurt your feet?”

  “You and Big D made me buy this mess! I knew I shouldn’t have listened to y’all.”

  “You want to go sit down?”

  “Yes, please!”

  We try to get into the club unnoticed, but Truth sees us. “Y’all come take a picture with me!” Truth shouts over the loud music blaring from the speakers.

  Dreya rolls her eyes at me and looks my outfit up and down. She and Bethany look cute, I guess. Bethany has done something to her hair. It’s slicked all the way back with a thick, greasy gel that has glitter in it. She’s got on a red corset, leather skirt and jacket, and some black fishnet panty hose. Dreya’s got leather on, too, but that’s her usual. This time it’s leather and leopard print put together.

  “You look real classy,” Truth says as he gives me a hug. “Thanks for coming to my party.”

  The photographer snaps a few candid photos of me and Truth, and one or two posed photos with the whole group. Sam pulls my arm, I guess signaling to me that he wants to go inside.

  “So, Truth,” shouts one of the paparazzi, “who is your date for the night? Is it Drama or her cousin?”

  Truth laughs out loud. “They both look hot, right? Maybe they’re both my dates. Truth can roll like that!”

  I shake my head in disgust, and Dreya storms off the red carpet with the cameras flashing the whole way. Truth calls after Dreya, and when she doesn’t come back, he yanks my arm and pulls me into a hug. More cameras flash before I snatch away.

  “You are tripping!” I say.

  “Save me a dance!” Truth says as I walk away.

  I ignore him, and follow Sam into the club. Once we’re inside, we have to sit in the VIP area because we’re underage and can’t mingle with the regular club goers.

  “Truth is tripping, right?” I ask Sam as we sit down at the table.

  “That’s what he does. That’s his persona.”

  I lift an eyebrow. “You’re cool with what he just did?”

  “It’s whatever.”

  A groupie-like chick steps up to the table and smiles at Sam. “You’re with Truth’s entourage, right?”

  “Yeah,” Sam replies.

  “You want to dance?”

  Sam leaps up from the table. “Let’s go!”

  I can’t believe Sam just left me sitting here looking crazy and alone at this table.

  “That’s what you get for trying to holla at my man,” Dreya says as she and Bethany walk up.

  “Not in the mood!” I fuss.

  They both laugh.

  “Come on, Dreya,” Bethany says. “You have to get
ready for your show.”

  After a few minutes of me getting pissed watching Sam dance with not one, but two girls, Truth sits down at the table. “You look good tonight, Sunday. You be hiding all that body under them khaki pants and T-shirts. You need to let a brotha see what you workin’ with.”

  “No, I don’t!”

  “Why you playin’ hard to get? You can’t be all that into Sam, especially not how he’s on the dance floor getting it in.”

  “I don’t care what he does.”

  “Yeah, you do. It’s written all over your face. Why won’t you just be his girl? He keeps asking you, and you keep turning him down.”

  “You don’t know anything about that,” I reply.

  “I think you’re waiting on something better,” Truth teases. “And I don’t blame you.”

  “Whatever, Truth. Aren’t you about to go on stage or something?”

  He reaches over the table and grabs both my hands. “I’m for real, Sunday. What I gotta do to get with you? You want me to break up with Dreya?”

  Is this dude for real? I feel like everyone in VIP is staring at us as he’s holding my hands. The intensity on his face scares me because it makes me think that he really is serious and not just doing this for the publicity.

  “You wouldn’t break up with Dreya for me.”

  “Yes, I would. All you gotta do is ask….”

  “I don’t want you to do anything, Truth.”

  Truth smiles. “I’ma change your mind about that. That’s a promise.”

  I shake my head and grin. “You don’t ever give up, do you?”

  “Naw. Come on and dance with me real quick before I have to perform.”

  He’s pulling me up from the table and I almost try to stay in my seat. But then, I see Sam grinding all up on one of those girls like he ain’t got good sense. He sure did get over me fast.

  I let Truth lead me out to the dance floor, not caring what’s gonna jump off. I can’t believe Sam is tripping, just because I won’t stroke his ego and say I’m his girlfriend. That’s really messed up.

  Truth puts both his hands on my waist and pulls me close. I close my eyes for a second and enjoy his attention, because he’s 100 percent into me.

  “You like this, don’t you, Sunday?” Truth asks in a gravelly whisper.

  I can’t answer, because I do like dancing with him. He smells good as what and he knows how to move.

  Just as I get ready to reply, a commotion breaks out on the dance floor. Wait! I’m right in the middle of it.

  Sam has tackled Truth to the floor and lands punch after punch. Truth knocks Sam off of him and jumps up to his feet. He’s got a bloody nose, but he’s…laughing.

  “You sure you wanna do this, Sam?” Truth asks. “You gonna give up your career over a girl?”

  Sam cracks his knuckles and gets ready to lunge after Truth again, but Big D holds him back.

  “Calm down, man. It ain’t worth it,” Big D shouts. “Truth, go clean yourself up. You’ve got a show to do.”

  When Truth is a safe distance away, Big D lets Sam go. Sam storms off the dance floor, but makes sure to give me an angry glare when he walks past.

  Big D asks me, “You all right, lil’ mama?”

  “I don’t know. Sam is tripping.”

  “Yeah, pretty much.”

  “Do you think Truth will want to have him kicked off the tour?”

  “Nah. They’re not females, Sunday. They’ll get past this and it’ll be like nothing changed.”

  “But I don’t get it. Sam just got finished telling me he wasn’t checking for me and was dancing up on two girls.”

  Big D laughs. “And you think he meant it? He just wanted you to say you were his chick. He wasn’t trying to give you up.”

  “And I was supposed to know this how?”

  “I keep forgetting how young y’all are. It’ll be okay, though.”

  “How can you say that? With Truth and Sam fighting, the tour is gonna be really twisted. That’s not hot.”

  “Are you kidding me? Did you see all the camera phones catching this fight?”

  “I wasn’t paying attention.”

  “At least ten people caught all this action and are probably posting it to YouTube as we speak.”

  I give Big D a confused stare. “Not seeing how this is helping. If anything, it’s making it worse.”

  “Y’all will get over this by the summer, but check it out. The fight on YouTube is like a commercial for y’all reality show.”

  “A commercial?”

  “Yeah, y’all gonna have every teenager in America tuning in to see how all this drama plays out.”

  “And that’s a good thing?”

  “It’s a real good thing, lil’ mama. I told you before, you’ve got the golden touch. Or should I say platinum touch?”

  I look down at the Claire’s bracelet on my wrist and sigh, although I’m sure no one can hear it over the music. How do I fix this mess before the tour?

  I’ve got Sam hating me, Truth sweating me, and as soon as she finds out, Dreya will be on a mission to destroy my life. Big D says I’ve got the golden touch, but right about now…I’m making all the wrong moves.

  A READING GROUP GUIDE

  NOT A GOOD LOOK

  Nikki Carter

  ABOUT THIS GUIDE

  The following questions are intended to

  enhance your group’s reading of

  NOT A GOOD LOOK.

  Discussion Questions

  Sunday has dreams of going to college and becoming an entertainment lawyer. What’s your dream career?

  Who’s got more swagger, Truth or Sam? Why or why not?

  How did you feel when Sunday’s mother, Shawn, lost Sunday’s entire college fund? If it were you, would you be angry, or would you understand that your mom was just trying to make a come-up?

  Did Sunday and Dreya play Bethany when they both got record deals and she didn’t? Is that just the name of the game?

  Who deserves the fab life more, Dreya or Sunday?

  What do you think is next for Sunday and Sam? Are they going to get closer, or will Truth get in the mix?

  Don’t miss the next book in Nikki Carter’s

  Fab Life series

  All the Wrong Moves

  Available in January 2011,

  wherever books are sold!

  1

  “Come on, Sunday. Give it your all. I know you can push this song out.”

  I take a deep breath and close my eyes. Maybe it’s the fact that I’m recording my very first single on my very first album that’s got me totally twisted.

  Maybe it’s the fact that mega-super R & B star Mystique is producing the song and is my mentor! Her words of encouragement are not helping, even though she has a smile on her face.

  Mystique continues: “Sunday, I know you’ve got it in you. I’ve heard you sing the mess out of this song. Do you need me to leave?”

  I shake my head no.

  “Do you want me to come in the booth with you?”

  I cock my head to one side and shrug. I don’t know if that will help, but at this point I’m willing to try anything because I’m tired, hungry, and thirsty.

  Sam, the recording engineer and my sort-of crush, says over the microphone, “I’m taking a break. Y’all let me know when you’re ready.”

  I feel the tension leave my body when Sam walks out of the recording room. Oh, no! That’s it! Sam is the reason I can’t get this song right.

  “Talk to me, mama,” Mystique says as she steps into the tiny recording booth. “You seem a little stressed today.”

  I play with my ponytail nervously. “I-I don’t know what it is.”

  Mystique smiles. “I think you know what it is and you don’t want to tell me.”

  “Okay…maybe you’re right.”

  “Does it have anything to do with that video on YouTube?”

  I sigh at the thought of that video. It was the night of rapper Truth’s release party at
Club Pyramids, here in Atlanta. It was a hot mess of an evening.

  Sam was pissed because I wouldn’t be his “official girl,” so he was tripping and dancing all crazy on some groupie chicks. Truth, who goes with my cousin Dreya, took that as his opportunity to push up on me yet again, even though I’d told him no a hundred times. But since Sam was acting a fool with the groupies, I acted an even bigger fool and danced with Truth, knowing that Sam would flip the heck out.

  And he definitely flipped out.

  He bloodied Truth’s face up right before his show, and although the concert went on, the fight was the biggest news of the night. Somebody had used the video camera on their phone to capture the whole thing.

  It was on YouTube before we even got home that night.

  Ever since then, I’ve been trying to make it up to Sam. We’re supposed to be going to prom together, but it’s in three weeks and Sam still isn’t speaking to me.

  “I guess it has a little bit to do with the video,” I admit to Mystique.

  “Listen. You guys can’t let that stuff get to you. If I got upset about everything that’s on the Internet about me and my man, I’d never get any sleep.”

  “Yeah, but the blogs only have rumors about you! They don’t have anything concrete. They’ve got video of me.”

  Mystique places a hand on my arm. “It’s just your first lesson of being in the limelight. Just remember that someone is always watching.”

  “That’s the problem! I don’t know if I want that! I just want to be a normal teenager.”

  “There are pros and cons to it. But I wouldn’t trade it for anything, Sunday! I’ve traveled the world, met the president, and I have millions of fans that care about me. Do you know I got three hundred thousand birthday cards?”

  I laugh out loud. “Wow! Really?”

  “Yes. And you’ll have the same thing, too. You’re so talented, and I know you can do this.”

  “But this song…it’s about a girl having a crush on a guy. It’s just hard to do with Sam out there mean mugging me.”