Diva Rules

by Amir Abrams

  He’s looking at me all confused, lost. “Why?”

  “It wasn’t gonna really be much of anything anyway, right? I mean, you’ll be going off to school in the fall. And I’ma be doin’ me.”

  He frowns, shaking his head. “Yo, I don’t believe this. You really gonna hit me wit’ the BS? I ain’t buyin’ it. Keep it gee. You eyein’ somebody else? You wanna be wit’ some other—”

  “No,” I quickly say, not sure why I don’t want him thinking there’s some other boo-daddy in my life, although there shoulda been. Fiona always keeps her a few boo-daddies on deck. But that’s not the case, not this time. “It’s not that.”

  He eyes me suspiciously. “Then what is it?

  “I can’t do this. Me, you . . . us. It has me comin’ all outta character. Fighting chicks ’n’ whatnot. Ain’t nobody got time for that. Fiona doesn’t fight chicks over a boy. No ma’am, no sir. Period. But I had to beat one down for tryna do me all kinda sideways ’n’ crazy. Now I’m doing ten days’ suspension behind that dumbness.”

  “Yo, c’mon now,” he says defensively. “You can’t blame me for what popped off between y’all. I wasn’t even there.”

  I frown. “I’m not blaming you. I’m blaming me for getting dragged into this craziness.”

  He scowls. “Craziness? You makin’ it sound like I dragged you into something?”

  “You did!” I snap, shaking my head. “You dragged me into”—I sweep my arms open—“all’a this. Me ’n’ you. Us tryna turn being friends into something more. I shoulda kept it movin’.”

  He throws his hands up, seemingly frustrated. “Everything’s gotta always be about you, right?”

  “Your words, not mine,” I counter, tossing my hair. “But, yeah. It is about me. Yes! Me, me, me! It’s my world, boo. Thought you knew.”

  “Yeah, whatever, man!” he snarls, eyeing me.

  I shift my weight from one foot to the other. “Exactly. I mean. It’s been fun. Kiss, kiss. Mwuah. It’s been real. But Fiona ain’t lookin’ to be tied down.”

  “Yeah, ’cause Fiona’s too stuck on a buncha dumb-azz rules.”

  “They’re not dumb!” I snap. “And I don’t care if you think they are. They’re what I live by. Period.”

  He huffs. “Well, you need a new set of rules ’cause the ones you have are effen stupid.” He sighs. “I don’t believe this, yo. You really gonna squash us over a buncha dumb rules, right? Word is bond, yo. That’s how you doin’ it?”

  I take a deep breath.

  How can I tell him that I’m angry at myself for letting him get all up in my head ’n’ creeping his way into my heart? This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not to me! But it has, ’n’ I’m scared, okay? But how can I tell him this? That I’m kicking myself for letting my guard down. That I’m hating him ’n’ hating myself for wanting to be with him. That the way he’s looking at me right now—his eyes all full of, of passion ’n’ intensity, like I’m all that matters to him—is killing me softly.

  Oooh, I so can’t do this. Weak ’n’ vulnerable is not who Fiona is. No ma’am, no sir! But this boy makes me feel just that: helpless ’n’ pitiful. And I don’t like feeling this way. It’s so not cute. No ma’am, no sir! This is not what I do. Fiona does not get all goo-goo-ga-ga over some boy. No, no, no! Not me. But here I am. All teary-eyed ’n’ mushy. Feeling all pink ’n’ silly.

  Cease reaches for me. But I break from his grasp ’n’ turn from him. I can’t believe that I am really about to cry ’n’ have a mini-breakdown right here in front of him. And I have no dang clue as to why. I mean, I do. But I don’t. Oh, heck no! This boy has me so flustered I don’t know what the heck I’m feeling or thinking anymore.

  I close my eyes ’n’ take another deep breath. “Please don’t make this any harder than it has to be,” I say as tears roll down my cheeks. “There’s nothing you can do except leave me alone.”

  He turns me to face him. I try to turn back away, but he won’t let me. He keeps pushing, forcing me to look at him, forcing me to see him.

  He lets out a frustrated sigh, staring at me.

  “Shit,” he mutters, running a hand over the top of his head, then his face. He shakes his head. “So what am I supposed to do now, huh? Front like I don’t care about you? Turn the other way when I see you in the halls? Act like I ain’t got you”—he takes my hand ’n’ places it up to his chest—“all up in here, huh? Is that what you want me to do, huh?”

  What does this boy expect me to do?

  Carve out big hearts with our names etched in the center on some old oak tree? No ma’am, no sir! Not gonna happen.

  Am I supposed to drop down ’n’ get my bobble on ’cause all of a sudden he wants to whisper sweet nothings to me? Am I supposed to hop up in his arms ’n’ smother him with a buncha sweet chocolate kisses ’cause he’s standing here, looking all dang sexy ’n’ delicious ’n’ good enough to eat? Am I supposed to believe what comes outta his mouth? Am I supposed to trust a buncha empty words?

  Am I supposed to believe I’m gonna find some happy-ever-after, wrapped in his arms? Am I supposed to drop all of my boo-daddies ’n’ play wifey to one boy? No. I can’t do it. I won’t do it. I tried it for those two weeks ’n’ . . . I can’t trust myself. And I can’t trust him. No. All that letting a boy be my life is a no-no. Fiona has no time for that. I close my eyes, inhaling as I silently repeat my mantra: Love ’em ’n’ leave ’em. Never, ever, get too attached to a boy. I repeat it again.

  I look up at him, feeling all lost ’n’ scared. I don’t like this feeling one bit. Don’t like feeling helpless. Don’t like feeling not in control. This is so, so bad.

  “Let me love you, yo.”

  I’m not loveable.

  I shake my head. “I can’t.”

  “You mean you won’t.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  I inhale. Hold my breath. Then slowly breathe out. “I-II . . . just can’t.”

  He just stares at me. Silent. And, finally, I think he gets it. That I have a buncha baggage that he’s not ready to sign up for. That I am not for him. That we can’t be together, ever.

  Never, ever, get too attached to a boy . . .

  Cease looks into my eyes, seemingly unmoved. I’m feeling light-headed ’n’ weak under his gaze. “Yes, you can. If you’d stop fighting it,” he finally says, leaning in ’n’ kissing me again. “I love you, yo.”

  I push back from him ’n’ look into his eyes, my heart cracking into a thousand ’n’ one pieces, realizing that I really do like this boy more than I pretended not to. “That’s too bad,” I say, steadying my shaking voice. “It’s over.”

  41

  “Oooh, you catchin’ cabs now,” Alicia says, smirking as I slide outta the gypsy taxi, slamming the door shut. “What, the high ’n’ mighty Miss Fiona has fallen from grace with her bestie-boo?” She laughs. “Figures. You could never keep any friends anyway.”

  I take a deep breath. It’s been a week since I chopped things off with Cease. And today, after two weeks, it’s my first day back to school since my suspension ’n’ I’m really, really tryna keep it cute ’n’ not get hauled off in handcuffs this morning. No ma’am, no sir! But this chick right here is really tryin’ it.

  Yes, I caught a cab to school today. And? I did it to avoid having to ride with Miesha. I didn’t wanna start my morning talking about Cease, having to explain why I shut it down with him. Why I won’t give him a chance. Oh no, oh no.

  It’s bad enough Miesha was blowing up my phone all crazy with text messages ’n’ phone calls tryna get at me, wanting to know what happened between us. Nothing happened. It was over way before it got started; now let’s move along. Fiona doesn’t have to explain herself to anyone. No ma’am, no sir. What’s done is done. It’s over. No biggie. Now let’s move on.

  I shoot Alicia a nasty look, slinging my satchel up over my shoulder. “Girl, bye! Move along, ma’am. Please ’n’ thank you.”

  “Mmph.
I knew that situation wasn’t gonna last,” she says smugly as I’m walking through the gates toward the school building.

  I toss my hair, cutting an eye at her. “You knew what situation wasn’t gonna last?”

  “You ’n’ Cease. I don’t know why he even wasted his time tryna mess with you in the first place.” She laughs. “Tryna wife a ho. Where they do that?”

  I take another deep breath. Then kindly tell this undercover whore, again, to get outta my face. So whyyyyy is this messy booga-roach still skipping alongside of me poppin’ her flappers? Beeeecaaaaause obviously she wants to see me slip outta these heels ’n’ go from hood classy to ratchet in zero-point-two-five-seconds ’n’ drag her face over this cement. But I ain’t gonna do it. Nope. Not today. No ma’am, no sir. I’ma let chickie keep her face in one piece.

  Still, I’m convinced that this chick is really tryna provoke me into laying these hands on her, then tossing her in a casket. I take one final deep breath, stopping dead in my tracks. “Look, bish! Get the fu . . .” I catch myself just as I make my way into the building ’n’ run smack into Mrs. Evans, who rolls out the imaginary red carpet ’n’ welcomes me back to school.

  “Fiona, it’s good to have you back. I trust you’ll get through the remainder of the school year without further distractions and/or incidents,” she says sternly.

  “Yes, ma’am. That is the plan,” I say, tossing my hair. “Fiona is stickin’ to the script. She’s keeping her lips sealed ’n’ her eye on the prize.”

  “And her hands to herself, I trust,” Mrs. Evans adds, tryna be messy.

  Alicia snickers. “Mmph. Good luck with that.”

  Mrs. Evans decides to check her before I do, sending her on her way. Then starts rambling on about expectations ’n’ young ladies ’n’ having less fights ’n’ needing to have more self-respect, blah, blah, blah, but I am tuning her out. All I wanna do is get through this day. Get through having to eventually face Cease in the halls since putting the axe down on my lil situation with him that is suddenly starting to feel not so lil anymore now that I see Cease standing a few feet away from me, leaning up against a bank of lockers talking to Luke ’n’ Justin.

  I try not to look over in his direction, but I can’t help myself. He laughs at something Luke says, but when his eyes catch mine his whole facial expression changes. My stomach churns. Cease just stares at me. Luke ’n’ Justin stop talking ’n’ both look over in my direction. They’re giving me dirty looks. Or at least that’s what I think I see.

  I quickly shift my eyes. “Umm, Missus Evans,” I say, cutting her off. “Not to be rude, but, uh, um, I really appreciate the welcome-back speech ’n’ all but, um, I haven’t heard a word you just said. I gotta go. Please ’n’ thank you.”

  I bolt for the stairs, bumping into a few students, pretending not to see the bitterness in Cease’s stare. Pretending not to feel his hurt. And all I can think as I fly up the stairs in an unexpected panic ’n’ round the corner is, What the hell am I gonna do now?

  The rest of the day is one big blur for me. It feels like I’ve been dragged through hellfire! I got my first C on an econ test I coulda aced upside down with my eyes closed ’n’ my fingers crossed. But, noooo! I get a frickin’ C! Fiona does not do damn Cs! No ma’am, no sir! Then, if that isn’t enough, all this ducking ’n’ hiding ’n’ tryna avoid running into Cease in the halls ’n’ dodging Miesha has worn me out.

  I can’t wait to get the heck outta here. Fast. I feel sick! I’m exhausted. And now I feel like I’m about to have a full-fledged panic attack when I look up from my locker ’n’ see Cease coming down the hall. My stomach knots as I rise from my kneeling position, leaving my locker door open.

  “We need to talk,” he says.

  I blink. “Cease, I—”

  “Let me finish. You hurt me, yo. Like what the fu . . .” He takes a deep breath. “What I feel for you is real, Fee. It’s not about tryna game you or get into ya panties. It’s about what’s in my heart. You. I really dig you. But I don’t know what I gotta do, or say, for you to see that. I’m tryna figure out why you gotta be so stubborn.”

  “I’m not being stubborn.”

  He narrows his gaze at me. “Then why are you being stupid?”

  “Stupid?” I blink. “I’m not stupid.”

  “Well, you’re being stupid if you gonna let some ridiculous rules that you’ve made up in ya pretty lil head stop you from doing what you feel in ya heart.”

  I shake my head, blinking back tears. “Oh no, oh no . . . I’m not about to let you stand here ’n’ disrespect me. I—”

  “I miss you, yo, a’ight,” he says, cutting me off. “And I’m hurt that you just shut me out. Like damn, yo. I could handle you wantin’ to shut it down if I had played you or dogged you out, but you just dissin’ me over dumb ish is crazy, yo.”

  I give him a pained look. “Um . . .” I don’t seem to know what to say.

  “Yo, what’s good, Cease . . . Fiona?” David says as he walks by. I respond with a half wave, Cease with a grunt. Neither of us takes our eyes off the other.

  He just stares at me, his gaze burning into my heart, then closes his eyes ’n’ sighs. “So, we just gonna ignore each other when—”

  “Heeey, Cease,” Chantel says. I catch her outta the corner of my eye, smirking. Cease igs her. Three more chicks walk by ’n’ coo out his name. He igs them, too.

  I fumble inside my locker, dazed, lost, forgetting exactly what I need out of it. Nothing. I don’t need a damn thing out of here. I just need to get out of here. Away from Cease’s gaze. Away from the nosy, probing eyes of these haters. I slam my locker shut.

  “I miss you, yo.”

  I blink.

  Cease licks his lips, looking at me in a way I’ve never seen any other boy look at me. He wants to try again. But I can’t. I mean. I want to. No, no. I can’t. Oh God. I don’t know what I want. Don’t know what I mean. This boy has me so confused.

  “I am hopeless,” I whisper, trying to keep my emotions in check.

  “Nah, you’re not hopeless. And if you were, it wouldn’t matter. I got enough hope for the both of us, a’ight? Give us a chance, Fee.”

  I hold my breath as he leans forward...

  And then Samantha walks by ’n’ whispers loudly to Quanda. “She didn’t deserve a man like Cease, anyway.” She glances over her shoulder. “Cease, boo, that ho don’t deserve you.” Quanda laughs. I glare at both of them. Ready to set it off.

  “Yo, chill, fam,” Cease says, frowning at her. “You outta pocket, yo.”

  “Oops, okay, boo,” Samantha says, putting her hands up in mock surrender. “My bad. I just don’t wanna see you gettin’ hurt again. You know you can’t ever trust a trick.” She tosses a glare over at me, smirking.

  “Bish,” I snap, ready to light her up, “the only trick is ya bald-headed, drunk mammy with that one raggedy tooth in her mouth. Don’t—”

  Cease grabs my arm. “Yo, chill, yo. Let that ish go. This is ’bout me ’n’ you.”

  I shake my head. “I can’t do this, Cease. There is no you ’n’ me! So please just leave me alone!”

  I snatch my arm away ’n’ hurry down the hall, fleeing from him ’n’ the aching truth that I miss him, too.

  42

  Silence of the Heart

  I listen

  And I hear

  The nothingness

  That lingers deep

  In the corners

  Of my soul

  Soft whispers that blow in the wind

  And slip into the dawn of my dreams

  I watch

  And I see

  Memories tossed in the air like confetti

  Slowly falling

  Disappearing

  Into the pit of my own emptiness

  I touch

  And I feel

  The pulse of a heart

  That no longer beats

  Because there is no you

  Three days later, I’m standing at my locker,
my hand trembling as I read the poem Cease stuffed in my locker for the second time. I close my eyes ’n’ hold the paper to my nose, inhaling. Then...

  Snap! Snap!

  I blink. Miesha is standing in front of me, hand on a hip, fingers in my face.

  I give her a blank stare.

  She snaps her fingers in my face again. “Bish, get it together,” she says, eyeing me all crazy-like. “You’ve been walking around here like a damn zombie all dang week, looking all lost ’n’ crazy. Then you stay actin’ all funny-style, iggin’ my calls ’n’ actin’ like I burned a hole in ya damn drawz . . .”

  She’s right. I’ve done everything I can to avoid her. To avoid seeing her all hugged up ’n’ all grins ’n’ giggles ’n’ full of . . . that dirty lil four-letter word that has crept up inside my heart ’n’ screwed up my life.

  Ooh, this whole mess is sooo not cute!

  Why did Cease have to press his way into my head? Bombard his way into my heart? I didn’t ask for that!

  Didn’t want it!

  Why did he have to do that?

  Make my life complicated!

  Fiona was fine without him!

  Snap! Snap! “Earth to Fiona!”

  I blink. “What?”

  “I’m talking to you, that’s what. What the fuqq is going on with you?”

  Cease is wrong with me!

  Seeing you all lovey-dovey with Tone is what’s wrong with me!

  I want what you have!

  Never, ever, let a boy get all up in ya head!

  I miss him!

  It’s for the best!

  You said you didn’t want him!

  I lied! I lied! I lied!

  Never, ever, get attached to a boy.

  But I want him.

  “Oh, forget it,” she says, snatching me outta the argument going on inside my head, before I can open my mouth to speak. “I know what’s wrong with you! You’re miserable without him. You know it. I know it. The whole dang school knows it. Just admit it, girl. It’s all over your face. He’s miserable. You’re miserable. Swallow your dang pride ’n’ go get ya man back. Why the heck did you break up with him, anyway?”