by Amir Abrams
“Umm, why are you even home?”
She grunts, iggin’ my question. “Mmph. And what was wrong with you yesterday?”
Uhh, duh. “I was sick.” I don’t even look at her when I say it. Just keep flitting about the kitchen. But I can feel her stare burning into me.
“Sick with what?”
Sick with memories of you!
“All know is, I don’t know what kinda mess you’re tryna pull, but all that throwing up you were doing yesterday in school had better be because you had food poisoning.”
I am breathing heavily. I shut my eyes tight. So tight that I think I’m going to mash my eyeballs in. Right at this very moment, believe it or not, I am desperate for some kind of control. Anything to keep me from servin’ her. But she’s tried it. One. Time. Too. Dang. Many.
And I’m done.
“Trust, I’m not pregnant. Nor am I stupid enough to wanna be.” I pop my eyes open ’n’ make a face at her. She threatens to get up ’n’ slap me. I threaten to call the po-po ’n’ have her dragged up outta here in silver wristlets if she even tries it. She calls me a whore. Tells me that’s about all I’m ever gonna be. Umm, really?
You think?
Wrong answer, boo.
I laugh sarcastically. “You know what, I’ll be whatever you want me to be. What you think about me can’t hurt me no more than it already has. So, boom. But what we both know is, it takes a whore to know one.”
Next thing I know her coffee cup is being hurled across the kitchen at me ’n’ she’s jumping to her feet, like she’s ready to toss it up. I slam my spoon into the half-empty bowl ’n’ push myself away from the stool, which falls to the floor with a loud crash. Then let her have it. For. Filth.
19
Never kiss ’n’ tell. Always keep ’em guessing . . .
I shut my locker, then jump. Cease is standing here. And, yes, he’s startled me. “Ohmigod! Boy, are you crazy? What are you doing sneakin’ up on me like that?”
“My bad.” He smiles. “I didn’t mean to spook you.”
Shoot. I forgot my Latin book. I huff, reopening my locker. “Well, you did. I mean . . .” I force myself to pause ’n’ take a deep breath. “How can I help you?”
“I heard you were throwin’ up everywhere the other day, so I wanted to see if you a’ight.”
I smirk. “Yeah, right.”
“Nah, nah. I’m dead-azz. You good?”
“Oh, I’m always good, trust.”
“Well, I’m tryna find out . . .”
“Heeeeeey, Cease,” this Spanish chick Maribel says, sticking out her boobs like she’s tryna offer ’em up on a platter to him. That’s really about all she has going for herself. I’d like to see how far those watermelon jugs get her in life. By the time she’s twenty they’ll be dragging down to the ground from all the boys she’s had hanging on ’em. But I’m not messy, so I’ma leave it at that.
“Yo, what’s good, Maribel?” he says, giving her a head nod.
She cuts her eyes over at me. I toss my hair. Make her invisible.
“Nada, papi.”
“Oh, a’ight.”
She’s still standing here.
“I think you better go sign her autograph,” I say, smirking.
She rolls her eyes at me.
He looks over at her. “Yo, I’ma holla at you, a’ight?”
“Yeah, make sure you do, papi.” She shoots me a dirty look before finally catching the hint ’n’ bouncing. Silly trick.
“Ooh, papi,” I tease, running a hand over his chiseled chest. “She’s gonna ride ya enchilada. Giddy up, giddy up, boo.”
He grins, leaning against the lockers. “Yeah, a’ight. How ’bout you ride it?”
“I’ll pass. I don’t do Mexican.”
He laughs. “Yeah, a’ight. How ’bout a soul pole?”
I frown. “Not interested.”
“Yo, what’s goodie, Cease, man?” his boy Justin says as he walks by. With his fine self. “We still hittin’ the gym after school?”
“No doubt, son.” They bump shoulders, giving each other dap.
I eye Justin on the low. Mmph. McPherson High got some real cutie-boos on the basketball team. Trust. I’m not even gonna lie. Justin could get it. With his nerdy-looking self. Still. He’s super cute. Real tall, like I like ’em, ’n’ he has really nice skin.
“What’s good, Fiona?”
“You, boo-daddy,” I coo.
He laughs. “Oh, word?”
I lick my lips. “Uh-huh. You already know.” Yeah, I’m flirting shamelessly, knowing Cease is checking for me. So what?
“You stay flirtin’.” He looks over at Cease. “Yo, man, I’ma get at you later. I’ll catch you at lunch.”
“A’ight, bet.” They give each other a pound, then Justin walks off. Cease brings his attention back to me. “Why you be playin’ me, yo?”
I smirk. “What are you talkin’ about, boy? Ain’t nobody playin’ you.”
Okay, yeah, he’s cute. No, scratch that. Fiiine. And yeah, he has mad swag. So what? Am I supposed to now all of a sudden fall at his big feet ’n’ worship him because he’s tryna get at me?
No, hun. Not over here. I’m not one of his groupies.
“Yeah, a’ight,” he says, eyeing me. “All school year you’ve been playin’ me to the left. You know what you be doin’, yo. How you gonna flirt wit’ my mans ’n’ I’m standin’ right here, yo?”
I shrug. “I’m single. He’s single. What’s the big deal?”
“Yeah, a’ight. Whatever. And what was that stunt you pulled the other day at lunch, huh?”
I feign ignorance. “What stunt?” I bat my lashes. “Oh, when you wanted me to kiss you? Boy, bye. I don’t know where your lips been.”
“Let me show you where they’ve been. Or where I want ’em to be.” He smirks that sexy smirk that makes him so effen fine ’n’ almost irresistible. Almost.
“Not.”
“I’m sayin’, though. I’m tryna make you mine.”
“Lies ’n’ fabrications. The only thing you tryna do is make me late for class.”
“Stop, yo. I’m feelin’ you, Fee. You already know what it is. I’ve been diggin’ you for a minute, but . . .”
I run a hand through my hair ’n’ purse my lips. “Why?”
He gives me a perplexed look. “Huh?”
“I asked you why. Why now, Cease?”
“C’mon, Fee. You know I’ve been big on you since freshman year, yo.”
“Uh-huh. And that’s why I caught you with your tongue stuffed down in some mare’s mouth, ’cause you were so big on me. Right? Boy, bye. Lies ’n’ fabrications.”
“Mare? Girl, whatchu talkin’ ’bout? You ain’t ever seen me kissin’ up on no horse.”
I roll my eyes, stuffing my book into my bag. I peer around my locker at him. “Boy, don’t play dumb. And don’t give me that selective amnesia crap you boys stay tryna act like you have. You know who ’n’ what I’m talkin’ about. Freshman year. Fifth period. Behind the gym bleachers. Big head. Big face. Big teeth.”
Realization registers in his eyes. “Ohhhh. That. Her.” He laughs.
I don’t.
“Damn. You still on that, yo? I tol’ you then she was a dare. You know I wouldn’t a done you like that for real, for real. That chick was mad ugly.”
“Uh-huh. That’s what ya mouth says. But your lips were sayin’—or should I say, doin’—something else. You chose Horse Face over me. That was a no-no, boo.”
“C’mon, Fee. It wasn’t even like that. I wasn’t checkin’ for that girl like that.”
I slam my locker shut. “Yeah, well you claimed you were checkin’ for me back then, but then I catch you holed up behind the bleachers. You were too busy checkin’ that chick’s tonsils with your tongue for me to believe that lie. Ha! You weren’t checkin’ for her. You got me once, you won’t get me twice.”
Okay, let me hip you right fast. See. I’m not even fazed about what Cease did wit
h that horse-face chick freshman year. I had only been so-called messing with him for like three days. So it wasn’t even all that serious. Trust. I wasn’t spilling no tears over him, or over what he did. Be clear. Fiona Madison doesn’t play the backseat to no boy unless we back there to get it poppin’. But play the backseat to some other chick? Not. Still. He had no business doing it.
Dare or not, I don’t think so.
Anyway, the girl doesn’t even go to this school anymore. Shoot. I can’t even think of her name. All I see is her gigantic face, those big gums of hers, ’n’ her huge white teeth that reminded me of piano keys every time I looked in her mouth.
And, yeah, I heard a few days after I caught them tonguin’ it up that the whole thing was supposedly some dare, or stupid-boy bet to see who could get with her first.
I guess he won.
And nope... I wasn’t all broken up about it, either. I simply tapped him on his big wide shoulder, then reached up ’n’ slapped his face when he turned to look over his shoulder at me. He tried to explain. Tried to apologize. But I wasn’t hearing it. It was over. And by the end of seventh period, I had moved on. Yup. I had me a new boo—his boy, Luke.
He shakes his head. “Nah, yo. You got me all wrong. I’m a grown man now, baby. I ain’t on them lil kiddie games like that anymore. I’ve paid for my sins long enough, Fee. Don’t you think it’s time for you to forgive a bruh? Can I live, yo?”
“Sure you can,” I say, walking off ’n’ glancing over my shoulder. “You can live with the fact that you coulda had all’a this goodness. Now watch it shake.”
I bite the inside of my lip to keep from laughing as I throw an extra bounce in my step, for emphasis.
Pow! How you like me now? I throw a hand up in the air at him, popping my hips down the hall, smirking.
He laughs. “Awww, man. You killin’ me, yo.”
20
“So what are you gonna do about Cease?” Miesha wants to know, pulling out her phone ’n’ checking her messages. It’s our lunch period ’n’ she and I are sitting together as we usually do unless I’m gracing the cheerleaders’ table, or she’s either called over to sit with her boo ’n’ his jock buddies at their table, or the lil lovey-dovey duo take it out to his or her car for a lil private time.
I frown, pulling a red velvet cupcake from one of my favorite bakeries in Harlem outta a small Tupperware container. “Uh, what do you mean, what am I gonna do?” I slide my tongue over the creamy whipped frosting. “Nothing.”
She stares at me. “Ugh! Omigod, what a freak.”
I shrug, smacking my lips ’n’ licking more frosting before taking a bite into the moist mini-cake. I moan. “Ooh, this is so delish. I know I’ma have to call one’a my lil boo-daddies over tonight so I can burn these calories off.”
She shakes her head ’n’ starts texting, her fingers clicking the keypad a mile a second before she finally looks up at me. “Antonio is always somewhere doing too much.”
I roll my eyes. “Oh, please. And what is Mister Wonderful doing now?”
“Ooh, save the sarcasm, heifer.” She wags a finger at me. “We are not about to get off topic. Now what do you mean, you’re not gonna do nothing? Girl, are you serious?”
I bat my lashes. “Boo, I’m as serious as a one-day shoe sale.”
“Umm, let’s see here.” She purses her lips ’n’ taps a finger up to her chin as if she’s in deep thought. “So, you’re gonna potentially let a good guy slip right through ya fingers, is that what you’re telling me?”
“Chile, boom! Not interested.”
“Omigod! You’re such a liar.”
“I am not.”
“Now you’re really lying.”
I laugh. “Okay. I am. Maybe. But I’m not really gonna say if I’m interested or not.”
She gives me a look.
“Okay, okay. Just a little interested.”
She claps her hands together. “Ooh, I knew it. And, hunni, curiosity always kills the cat.”
I put a finger up. “Uh-uh. Pump the brakes, honey-boo. That doesn’t mean I’m curious enough to do anything about it.”
She gives me a confused look. “Um, and why not?”
“Because I’m not checkin’ for him like that.”
Chickie immediately starts going in about settling down ’n’ having a boo of my own, blah, blah, blah. Like really? Is she serious right now? Chile, boom! Ain’t nobody got time for that. Like I said before, why would I settle for one boo-thang when I can have two or three or four?
“Girl, I keep telling you it’s time you open ya heart ’n’ let a lil love in.”
I press my lips ’n’ tap my heeled foot against the floor, repeating my mantra: Never, ever, get too attached to a boy. All that letting a boy be your life is a no-no. And trust. Fiona Madison has no time for that.
I take another bite of my cupcake. Slowly chewing ’n’ thinking, wondering if I should tell her that I’ve never really had a boyfriend, not like a boyfriend-girlfriend type of thing; or that I’ve never, ever, been in love before. Okay, lies, lies, ’n’ more lies.
I have loved. Bubbles. And, hunni, it was love at first sight. He was so cute. Jet black ’n’ sweet. I swear. He was my everything.
My lil boo gave me life!
Then my heart got ripped outta my chest when he died.
And I haven’t been the same since. Chile, boom! It was horrible. I musta cried practically every day for almost a week before I was finally able to get over it.
Ish happens, right?
Still. It hurt. And I know I’ll never, ever, find another fantail goldfish that’ll be as special to me as Bubbles was.
But aside from him being the love of my life, nope. Well, okay, I’ve since fallen for Gucci ’n’ Jimmy Choo ’n’ Louis ’n’ Marc Jacobs—who, by the way, has a really, really cute handbag I’d just die to have. But as far as falling for a living, breathing being? Nope. I’ve never been in love with a boy before. The whole idea of it makes me nauseous. No, seriously. It makes me really, really sick.
I unscrew the cap off of my bottled FIJI Water ’n’ take a sip.
“You do realize you could be throwin’ away the chance to lose your V-card to one of the hottest guys, besides my boo, at this school?”
I suck my teeth. “Ooh, shots fired!”
She laughs. “What, boo? You’re not a virgin?”
I roll my eyes ’n’ laugh in spite of myself.
“Speaking of ya future, boo,” Miesha says in a singsong voice as she stares straight ahead. “There he goes now.”
I follow her gaze, all the way across the cafeteria to where Cease is standing with Luke, all buffed ’n’ sexy ’n’ knowing he’s fine in his loose-fitting jeans ’n’ Affliction tee that wraps around his bulging muscles.
Ooh, I can’t stand it.
I swallow. Then wave her on. “Girl, bye. Like I said, I’m not thinking about that boy.”
“So let me get this straight: You’re really not gonna try to get with him?” She peers at me through narrow slits, her curious eyes taking me in as if she’s waiting for me to confess to some hidden fascination with that boy. Please. I don’t think so. I mean, yeah, okay... I said he was fine. And?
So am I now supposed to roll out the red carpets, summon in the trumpeters, then bow at his deliciously big feet?
Chile, boom! I think not.
Fiona Madison will not be featuring Ceasar. No, ma’am. But that doesn’t mean I can’t look. Just not touching, that’s all.
“Nope. Not interested,” I say, feeling my pulse quicken as he looks over in our direction.
I eye him as he ’n’ Luke give a few of the football players dap ’n’ shoulder bumps. Miesha teases me about tryna eyeball him on the low. I give her the finger ’n’ she laughs.
I shift in my seat when they finally make it over to our table. He ’n’ Luke speak to the both of us. We speak back. Luke pulls out a chair ’n’ takes a seat next to Miesha.
“Yo, so what’s go
od for the weekend?” Cease asks no one in particular as he pulls out a chair ’n’ sits beside me.
Miesha shrugs. “I don’t know. It’s whatever Antonio wants to do.”
Cease smirks. “Awww, look at that. My boy got you trained well.”
She raises a brow. “Bloop, bloop. Wrong answer, boo. I trained him. Get it right.”
He laughs. “Oh, a’ight. Right, right. My bad.” He looks over at me. “So what’s good wit’ you? What you got planned?”
I shake my head. “Studying, that’s about it. My life is over for the weekend.”
Cease scoots his chair closer to me, draping his arm over the back of my chair.
“Nah, you gotta think positive.”
“I am thinking positive. I’m positively sure I’m going to do horrible on this test if I don’t get my mind together. And trust. Fiona doesn’t do horrible well.”
“Don’t sweat it, babe,” he says with a grin. “Dumb blondes are mad sexy, yo.”
Miesha ’n’ Luke both find what he’s said funny.
I don’t. I punch him in the arm.
“Ha, ha, ha. Real funny.”
He rubs his arm, tryna rub the sting out. “Damn, babe, you got a nasty right punch.”
I roll my eyes. “And I have an even nastier left hook. So don’t do me, boy.”
“Oh, daaaaaamn, son,” Luke says, laughing. “Sounds like she tryna call you out.”
“Looks that way to me,” Miesha teases. “Cease, rough her up.”
Cease leans back in his seat. Folds his arms up over his head. “Nah, it’s all good. I ain’t tryna rough up this pretty lil thing, yet,” he says all sly.
I buck my eyes open. “Uh, not ever.”
He smiles. “Yeah, a’ight. I welcome a challenge.” His gaze ’n’ the way he’s licking his lips is kinda unnerving me. And Fiona doesn’t get unnerved. Not by some boy. But here I am, shifting in my seat. I cross my legs.
“And I’d love to do you. But you frontin’ like you scared.”
“Awwww, sookie-sookie.” Luke starts making sex faces. And I can’t help but laugh at his silly butt.
“Nah. Fiona ain’t ready for all this over here,” Cease carries on, jokingly. Well, at least that’s how I’m taking it ’cause this boy has no idea what I’m ready for. I peep what he’s doing. He thinks he’s gonna reel me into some kinda mind game. No, boo-boo. Not gonna happen. I’m too swift for that.
