He Said, She Said

by Kwame Alexander

  Blu McCants Only in the country.

  Wednesday at 9:45 pm · Like

  Tdiddy Smalls Claudia, I’m calling you, pick up.

  Wednesday at 9:46 pm · Like

  Claudia Clarke Told you, I’m busy. What’s up?

  Wednesday at 9:49 pm · Like

  Tdiddy Smalls You got some candles I can borrow?

  Wednesday at 9:50 pm · Like

  Claudia Clarke Bwahahahahahaha! Whatever, Omar. Bye.

  Wednesday at 9:55 pm · Like

  “Uncle Al wants to know if you want to come over for dinner on Sunday.”

  “He does not. That’s all you. You’re not slick, Omar.”

  “I’m glad you decided to come to the party with me, Claudia.”

  “I didn’t come with you. I met you here. Don’t get it twisted—this is not a date, homeboy.”

  “Dang, Claudia Clarke is hard-core. It’s been like a month. Give me a break.”

  “Did that once. How’d that work out for me?”

  “I’m just saying. T-Diddy got that Mary J. Blige real love for you, homegirl.”

  “Be happy we’re friends.”

  “Oh, we’re back to that.”

  “It is what it is.”

  “I’ve been thinking about the metal detectors. We should do something, Claudia.” Even though the only gun at the sit-in was owned by a student from Bayside, Cruella decided that we should have metal detectors in our school, to protect us. From us.

  “This is your new strategy to get me back. Another protest. Be original.”

  “This ain’t about you. It’s about the people. Fightin’ back. Galvanizing the streets,” Omar says, smiling.

  “You got a plan?”

  “C’mon, T-Diddy always got a plan,” he says, and grabs my hand. “I’m not sure I can trust you though. Seems that Robert Smalls was a frickin’ Republican.” I pull my hand away.

  “A Republican? Really?”

  “A congressman from the great state of South Carolina.”

  “I wonder how he found time to do that, when he was so busy Saving. The. Frickin’. Union.”

  “Good point.” We both laugh.

  “Ya know, I really don’t want to do this tonight,” he says.

  “What? Omar Smalls, aka T-Diddy, aka Panty Dropper, aka Used to Be My Man, doesn’t want to stay at a house party and get his freak on. C’mon, lover, they’re about to do the T-Diddy Shuffle. More bounce to the ounce, remember?”

  “Still with the jokes.”

  “I’m hungry,” I say.

  “True. Let’s go out for dinner,” he says. “We can go to Alluette’s. Some dude named Charleston is playing tonight. I know how much you like jazz.” Actually, it’s Charlton, as in Charlton Singleton, the slickest frickin’ trumpet player in Chucktown. At least he’s trying.

  “I’m down with that. But I’m really feeling like some Juanita Greenberg’s. The fish tacos are the bomb.” He just stares at me with the whole curly-lip smile thing. One thing I’ve learned these past few weeks is that silence doesn’t mean we have run out of things to say, only that we are trying not to say them. Then he hugs me. His chest is hard and cozy.

  “I miss you. I love you, and I’m sorry,” he whispers in my ear. I want to collapse in Mr. Football’s arms. Instead, I punch Mr. Football in his arm, changing the mood quickly, for my own sake.

  “Let’s roll, homeboy.”

  “I’ll get you back, believe that,” he says. “Or I’ll die trying.”

  “Magnolia Cemetery’s nice. I’m sure they have a nice one in Beaufort, too.”

  “That’s just wrong, homegirl.” We both laugh. “You ready, silly?”

  “One thing we have to do first,” I reply.

  I lead him over to the kitchen, where Willie Mack and Freddie Callaway are drinking some suspicious-looking pink liquid.

  “WhatUpY’all.”

  “I hope you don’t need my car again, dawg,” Willie Mack says.

  “Naw, man. I’m good,” Omar says.

  “BongBong,” Freddie Callaway says, and starts laughing.

  “So I’m a nasty girl now, huh, Fred?” Freddie Callaway looks like he just got caught stealing a grape Popsicle. Omar and Willie Mack laugh, but Fast Freddie is not amused.

  “I think you two owe T-Diddy something,” I say to both of them. The boys look perplexed. “A buck fifty, I think it was.” I reach inside the pocket of T-Diddy’s jacket, which I still have from when he fixed my tire. I pull out a pair of lace-trimmed red panties.

  The look on their faces, mouths scraping the floor, eyes all bugged out, is priceless.

  “It’s all about the Benjamins, baby,” I add, and drop the brand-new, never-worn silk panties Blu gave me two Christmases ago in front of them.

  “OhSnapWillieDidSheJustDropThePanties?”

  “You heard what the lady said. Y’all woadies better have my loot on Monday,” Omar says.

  “Where you going, T? The party just started,” Willie Mack hollers.

  “C’mon, son, you know how T-Diddy gets down,” Omar adds, doing the whole curly-lip thing.

  “Thong thong!” I holler, grabbing his arm, both of us cracking up beneath the silver moon.

  About the Author

  KWAME ALEXANDER has written fifteen books, owned several publishing companies, written for television (TLC’s Hip Hop Harry), recorded a CD, performed around the world, produced jazz and book festivals, hosted a weekly radio show, worked for the US government, and taught in a high school. Recently, Kwame was a visiting writer in Brazil and Africa. He resides in the Washington, DC, area, where he is the founding director of Book-in-a-Day (BID), a program that teaches and empowers teenagers to write and publish their own books. The idea for He Said, She Said came during a writing workshop he conducted with thirty smart, funny, feisty, insecure, and ambitious young people in Charleston, South Carolina—which, by the way, is his favorite place on earth (behind Bahia, Accra, and Tuscany, of course). This is his first teen novel. You can visit him online at www.kwamealexander.com.

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  Credits

  Cover art © 2013 by Jennifer Heuer

  Cover design by Joel Tippie

  Copyright

  Amistad is an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.

  He Said, She Said

  Copyright © 2013 by Kwame Alexander

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

  www.epicreads.com

  * * *

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Alexander, Kwame.

  He said, she said / by Kwame Alexander. — First edition.

  pages cm

  Summary: “When a popular football playa and ladies man and the smartest girl in school lead a school protest, sparks fly as their social media–aided revolution grows”— Provided by publisher.

  ISBN 978-0-06-211896-7 (hardcover bdg.)

  [1. Protest movements—Fiction. 2. Love—Fiction. 3. High schools—Fiction. 4. Schools—Fiction. 5. African Americans—Fiction.] I. Title.

  PZ7.A37723He 2013

  2012043496

  [Fic]—dc23

  CIP

  AC

  * * *

  EPUB Edition © OCTOBER 2013 ISBN 9780062118998

  13 14 15 16 17 LP/RRDH 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  FIRST EDITION

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