by Ni-Ni Simone
I blinked as she pulled back the drapes, inviting a stream of bright light into my room. How rude! “Because,” I said, trying to adjust my eyes to the flood of rays, “that’s what I always do on Saturdays. But you wouldn’t know that.”
“Oh, really? Well it seems here . . .” she said, opening the teen magazine. “That along with sleeping ’til noon, you’ve been on your knees in bathrooms, sleeping with your friend’s boyfriend. That’s what I do know. Have you no discretion? How crude.”
I sat up in bed, folded my arms across my chest. “How crude? You have a lot of nerve, Mother. Besides, I get it from you. ’Cause while your husband’s away Miss Kitty-Kitty likes to play in her little litter box with the new boy-toy she keeps locked away at her New York City penthouse suite.”
She chuckled, then clapped. “Touché, I’m impressed. But you have a ways to go before you’ll ever be me.”
I scowled again. “Don’t drown yourself in that entire ego of yours. I don’t ever wanna be you.”
“Oh, my delusional darling Spencer. You’re already me. The difference is I know to keep my dirt well-hidden. Now stop sulking, and come give Mother a hug.” She leaned in to hug me. The signature aroma of the Clive Christian perfume she religiously wore engulfed me. My body stiffened. “I’ve missed you,” she said.
“Oh, really? Was that before or after boy-toy number one? Or boy-toy number two? Or maybe boy-toy number seven? Oh, no, of course not. It must’ve been before Daddy ran off to dance with Buddah.” I clasped my hands together. “Oh, no. Maybe that’s not it either. Maybe it was when I only knew how to speak French.”
She let out an exasperated sigh. “Oh, Spencer, not this again. How many times do we have to keep going down this road? I am not going to apologize for things that can’t be undone. And I’m definitely not going to be made to feel guilty about it. I don’t live my life with any regrets. And neither should you. So stop trying to berate me and be grateful that I’m here.”
Be grateful? Was she serious? For what, the fact that she called me three times a week to check in on me instead of being home to parent me? If this was where Kitty really wanted to be, she’d pack up her TV show and move it out here instead of staying in New York. But this is not where she wanted to be. No. Kitty wanted to be on stage, seen as anything other than a mother. But no ... that’s not true. She wanted to be regarded as a great mother; a woman who put family before all else. Well, guess what? She failed!
“Yeah, you’re here all right. Two days too late. Why didn’t you come home when I got into that accident?”
“Oh, Spencer, just stop it. You were still alive. There was no need for me to come home.”
So I have to be in a box before she comes home. I gasped. “I can’t believe you just said that. So had someone from Potter’s Field called you—”
“Oh, Spencer, you wouldn’t be at Potter’s Field. Stop exaggerating. You’re being so sensitive. You’re alive, and that’s all that matters.”
I climbed out of bed, sliding my feet into my slippers. My feet sank into the plush carpet. “So what do you want, Mother, an Emmy for finally finding your way back home? But you’re right, the road is closed. And I’m done traveling it. So welcome home.”
I walked into my bathroom and shut the door, leaving behind a trail of resentment. There was a part of me that felt like crying, but I wasn’t even sure if I cared enough to. I’d shed enough tears over her already.
Thirty minutes later, I was showered and dressed in pink loungewear, sitting downstairs at the breakfast nook, eating a fruit salad with cottage cheese when Kitty walked into the room. I crossed my ankles.
“I do hope you behave yourself. And, umm . . . you’re special . . . and umm . . . your body is a treasure . . .” She glanced over at Vera, tapping her fingers on the lava countertop. “Vera, what’s the other part of what you used to say? That was so cute.”
Vera looked at me, then over at my mother and said, “It’s . . . you are beautiful and I love you.”
“Oh, yeah, that’s right. That was so sweet. Umm, what else? Oh, yeah . . . do well in school because I am spending a lot of money for you to be at Hollywood High. Although, now that I think of it, I’m still saving several thousands of dollars a year since you managed to find a way to get yourself tossed out of boarding school. Do me a favor. Don’t go macing people again. It’s so urban. Oh, and call your father. He’s finally leaving Asia and heading back to South Africa. Now he wants to be out there in the jungles. That man goes from one extreme to the next.”
I rolled my eyes and continued eating, pretending she’d already disappeared.
“Oh, and two more things. No more videos, please, please, please. The attorney fees are killing me. Oh, yeah, and remember... discretion is key. So please exercise good judgment. I have a network to run, I can’t babysit you. And I don’t need any further embarrassment. You’re a mature woman. And I expect you to conduct yourself as such.” She looked back at Vera. “Vera, please look after her. And make sure she doesn’t get herself into any more trouble.”
She walked over and gave me a hug and a kiss on the side of my head. “I’ll see you sometime next week. If that changes, I’ll call you. Love you.”
“Safe travels,” I replied snidely over my shoulder as the phone rang and the Wolf huffed and puffed her way out the door.
Vera walked over to me with the cordless in her hand. “It’s for you?”
“Hello?”
“Speeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeencer,” Heather blared in my ear. “Girl, I haven’t heard from you in two. Whole. Days. What has been going on? Have you heard from the Skank Squad?”
I frowned. “Ummm, Heather why are you yelling in my ear? I’m not deaf. And no, I haven’t heard from them hood roaches. I’m not speaking to them. After what they did to me, I don’t care if I ever talk to them again. Those hoes are trash.”
“And why did I know you would say that, boo?” All of a sudden she broke out in song. “Don’t speak to the hoes again . . . don’t speak to the hoes again . . . don’t speak to the hoes again . . .” I imagined her throwing her arms up in the air, stepping from side to side dressed in some kind of outlandish Wu-Wu costume. I shuddered at the thought. Heather popped her lips in my ear. “Girl, now stop. Don’t be like that. You know we have to be the bigger person. We both know how stupid Rich is. And London is stupid and weak.”
I nodded. “Yeah, with her big Amazon self. I can’t stand her.”
“I can’t stand her, either. But you remember what happened Labor Day weekend when we were all down at South Beach and those girls tried to attack us. London jumped in and fought those girls with us. And we had only known her for like a month.”
“Well, I’ll send her a thank you card. But, I’m done. They jumped me in the ditch when I was trapped in my car. Punched me all upside my head. That’s not what friends do.”
“And friends don’t sleep with each others’ boyfriends, either. That was real messy what you did, Spencer. And you know it.” Heather paused, then started singing again. “Aaaaah... messy ... beep, beep ... Messy ... Messy ... get it, get it . . . crunked up . . . messy . . .”
“Uh, what the heck are you doing, Heather? Why do you keep singing off key like that? I really think you need to stick to acting because your singing is horrible. I’m saying one thing and you’re turning it into a song. I don’t wanna hear that.”
“I’m just making a point that what you did was wrong.”
“Rich didn’t even want him. So what’s the big deal?”
“The big deal is he was her boyfriend whether she wanted him or not.”
“Well, exactly, he was—operative word—her boyfriend. He dumped her.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because he told me.”
“And Joey told you he wasn’t homeless, but he was. Liar, liar, liar... the roof ’s on fire . . . Aaah Wu-Wu . . . okay, okay let me bring it back. The point is—”
“No, the point is that no one was supposed
to know. I don’t know how anyone found out about it. Who would take a video of us? There was no one else in that bathroom except for me and . . .”
“That no-good mofo,” Heather snapped.
“Corey?” Spencer paused. “Oh . . . no . . . You think . . .?”
“Think what?”
“Think he videotaped us?” Before I could answer, she said, “That’s exactly what he did. He videotaped me ... Then leaked it to the press . . . He’s the one who broke up our friendship.”
“And now the Pampered Princesses have been dragged through the press as has-beens.”
I frowned, feeling my pressure shoot to my eyeballs. “Wait a minute, now. I’m no has-been. My last name is Ellington.”
“Exactly. Now we need to make this right before we get back to school on Monday and find another crew sitting at our table, trying to claim our throne.”
I clenched my teeth. “I will. Mace. Them. Down. And, Heather, you know I will.”
Silence.
She continued, “So what do we do now? We can’t let Corey get away with ruining our friendship like this!”
“No we can’t!”
“And when I stop speaking to them scallywags it has to be because that’s what I want to do. Not because some no-good Nutty-Buddy took advantage of me and tried to set me up. Why would he do that?”
“I don’t know why he did it. But that’s not important. What’s important is the four of us getting back together again. And that’s why I was calling you. We need an immediate girls’ intervention—today. Right away. This is an emergency like never before. We’re all over the Internet with the wrong headlines.”
I sighed. “And I got two million hits on YouTube.”
Heather huffed in my ear, like she was annoyed with me. “Spencer, bring it back. That makes it worse.”
“Not really. At least I know that out of the two million people who saw me, four hundred and fifty-seven of them clicked the ‘Like’ button. But you’re right, Heather. Even though I don’t want to, we need to make up. I’m willing to meet, but I am not calling them.”
“No worries, boo. I got this.”
23
Heather
I hung up the phone with Spencer and fell straight back on my bed, causing my pillows to spill onto the floor. If I could have high-fived myself I would have. I had to say I was quite impressed with my work. I’d torn those Humpty Dumpties down and now all the media kings and gossiping horses couldn’t put them back together again. I had to do it. “Ahh, Wu-Wu’s in the house!” I dusted my shoulders and popped my invisible collar.
“Heather!” Camille shouted from her bedroom. “I have a headache, what are you doing in there? Shut up! Enough of the Wu-Wu!” She slammed her bedroom door and all I could do was fall out laughing all over again.
“Ahh, Wu-Wu’s in the house!”
I reached over on my nightstand for my cell phone. I knew I needed to be rehearsing my lines for my upcoming taping, but this was much more important.
I dialed Rich’s number and she picked up on the first ring. “You’re so silly, Knox,” she laughed.
Knox? Oh, really?
She continued, “I need to get this. Hello?”
I popped my lips. “Hey, Rich?”
“Who is this?” Rich said as if her lips were curled in disgust.
“Who is this? This is Heather. Now don’t act as if you didn’t see my name pop up on your screen.”
“No, actually I didn’t see your name pop up on my screen. I never made a habit of saving your number. And what do you want? Last I checked you were team Spencer.”
I laughed. This was juicy... so, so juicy. Humpty Dumpty had a great fall. “Rich, I’m only calling you out of concern—”
“Concern? For what? Why am I even on your mind? Outside of school and our little daily lunch date, I shouldn’t even be a thought—”
“Actually you’re not a thought and this is so much bigger than you. The truth of the matter is this is about the clique and the way the media is portraying us. Have you not seen the blogs, or entertainment news? Have you even been on Twitter today? The number one hashtag is ‘Pampered princesses gone wild.’ And when you click on it, do you know whose face pops up?”
“Whose?”
“Yours!”
“What?”
“And it’s not a good picture! You had on no shoes, your mascara looked like war marks, and those little shiny bracelets on your wrists were not platinum. And what were they? Handcuffs. Squeezed extra tight, making your hands look like they belonged to the Pillsbury Doughgirl.”
“Excuse you?”
“You heard me. Oh and the headline above that pic was RICH MONTGOMERY IS JAILED AND EATING HERSELF TO DEATH. And wait, wait, I just remembered there’s another that read CHUBBY LIL RICH MONTGOMERY CAN’T KEEP A MAN.”
“Oh hell no!”
“Oh hell yes, girlfriend.”
“Clutching pearls!”
“And your big friend, London. The headline with her picture reads: NEW YORK AMAZON TAKES DOWN L.A! Oh and before I forget freaky little Spencer has two million hits on YouTube!”
“What!”
“Yes, she’s an overnight sensation. Teen porn star in the making! And I just got off the phone with Spencer and she is a mess over it. Distraught!”
“Good for her!” she said sarcastically.
“No this is good for none of us!”
“None of us? What does this have to do with you? How are you affected by this? Like really?”
“Excuse me, do you really know who I am? I have a reputation to protect. I have over three hundred thousand followers on Twitter I have to keep, endorsements, and I cannot be seen in the papers, the Internet, or anywhere with the three of you bouncing off the walls like you’re crazy. I can’t have my name next to the headline of: THUGS IN CHANEL, PEELING FACES OFF! Now you want to know what this has to do with me? Well it seems that your reputation has me looking guilty of something I never even did. So I need your rep to be cleaned up because being associated with you all is bad for my image and my career. Now we either fix this together or I simply put all the blame on you three and let the chips fall where they may!”
“You wouldn’t do that!”
“Are you willing to roll the dice?”
Silence.
“Hello, hello?” I said and a few seconds later I heard a click and it was Rich screaming into the phone, “London! London! SOS! Get your jewels, get your glamour on, we have been destroyed!”
I tried to keep my composure by biting down on my bottom lip and trying not to laugh. I felt like I was seconds away from peeing in my pants. I jumped up and started to do a dance.
“Heather!” Camille shouted. But I ignored her, this was feeling too damn good. There was no way I was going to let Camille blow this high. This kind of high you couldn’t even buy.
“London,” Rich continued to scream, “I have Heather on the line, too!”
“Heather?” London said confused. “What kinda games. Rich, I don’t do—”
“Girl, listen, I know you don’t do Heather—”
I interjected, “And Heather doesn’t do you.”
“Look, I know you didn’t call me to argue.” London said. “Because I’m busy—”
“Shut up, London, and listen!” Rich screamed. “Heather didn’t call you. I called you. Heather called me!”
“Why is Heather calling you? Did I miss something? You’re doing Heather now?”
“I’ma say this again,” Rich said sounding as if her teeth were clenched. “Shut. Up. We have been annihilated! Dragged like dogs in the media!”
“What!” London screamed. “Dragged. I can’t possibly be in the paper again. I’ve been locked in my room for two days trying to convince my father that I have seen the error of my ways. I cannot be back in the headlines. This is not happening to me! I should’ve stayed in New York!”
“You’re right you should’ve stayed in New York! Because of you I have been to j
ail and now the headlines have turned on—”
“You’re the one who calls the headlines. You have the media on speed dial! You’re the one who sent the video of Spencer macing Heather to your publicist, who in turn sent it all over the world!”
Oh . . . my . . . God . . . Rich did that? That sneaky witch!
“I resent that, London!” Rich spat. “You’re the one who pressed send. You’re the one who attacked Co-Co Ming and got me all messed up in this mess! And now I have to find a way to get out of it!”
“Rich—!”
“Would you two be quiet!” I yelled. “And listen!”
“Wait a minute,” Rich said. “Who just said that?”
“It’s me. Heather!” I said. “Obviously you two rabid animals have forgotten I was on the phone!”
“Well, you can get off the phone, because London and I can handle this and we don’t need you in our business.”
“We sure don’t!” London spat.
“You may think you don’t need me. But you do, because I have this all recorded.”
London gasped and Rich snapped. “You . . . dirty . . . !”
“I may be dirty but you are the dirtiest of them all. So thank you for all the juicy details because now I will release this call and only the gossiping gods will know what the headlines will read next.” Click.
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall. . . . I fell back against the bed and roared with laughter.
“Heather!” Camille screamed and banged on the wall. “If I have to come down there it will be a problem. I told you that I have a headache! Now shut up!”
Before I could laugh again and torture Camille’s headache even more my phone rang. A smile lit up my face as Rich’s number appeared on my screen.
Not even the media kings or the gossiping horses could put them back together again.
Gotcha.
“Hello?” I said innocently.
“Heather?” Rich called out to me.
“Who is this?”
“Oh now you wanna act as if you don’t know who this is. I don’t have time for your games.”
“And me, either,” London said pissed. “Now get to the point, Rich.”
“I don’t even believe I’m about to ask you this, Heather,” Rich said.
