by Mitzi Miller
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing’s wrong,” she said. “Really, everything is exactly right.” Lauren was quiet for another moment. “Look, after that e-mail was sent out about me being a ho, you asked me why I cared about the people at my school thinking I’m fast. Well, I care because—despite a reputation to the contrary—I’m not fast.”
“I know that, Lauren…”
“Wait, let me finish, or else I may chicken out and not say what I have to say,” Lauren said, raising her finger in the air to silence him. “People at my school think that because I flirt with guys and dress the way I do and don’t care about the things my sister cares about that I’m, uh, sleeping around. But the truth is, Jermaine…”
“What,” he urged.
“The truth is, I’ve never, um, been with a guy before. Not, um, in the way that people think I have.”
“Hold up: You’re a virgin?”
“Is that so hard to believe?” Lauren snapped, giving her head a little twist for emphasis.
“No, no, I mean, no…” Jermaine said, trying to redeem himself. “I mean, it’s just that, you know…”
“I know, I know, I’m not shy about rolling up on guys, right?” Lauren asked, letting out a nervous giggle. “I’m just confident, is all. I know what I want, and I’m not afraid to say it or get it when I want it, and I guess people confuse that.”
Jermaine was quiet.
“And if you haven’t noticed, I’m picky. And the right guy just hasn’t ever come along. All the little boys I’ve dealt with thought they knew me, which means they thought I’d hook up with them just because. Such a turnoff. The only other person on this earth who knows I’ve never been with anybody is my sister, which makes perfect sense why she put that e-mail on the blog saying I slept my way through the Thug Heaven set. She knew that would be the one thing that would really hurt me.”
“Damn, I don’t know what to say, L,” Jermaine said.
Lauren leaned in and kissed Jermaine. “Don’t say anything,” she said as she unzipped her sweater. She looked into his eyes: “I already told you, I choose you, Jermaine Watson. And I want you to be my first.”
Lauren peeled off her sweater, revealing a black-and-beige-print La Perla bra, a Christmas present from Keisha. Jermaine stared at her breasts and then at Lauren’s eyes. Common sense told him this wasn’t a good idea. His body was saying something totally different, and that side won out when Lauren touched his chest and kissed him again.
“Hold up,” he said. “Let me just go and get some protection. My brother should have some in his room. I’ll be right back,” he said, rushing to his door.
When he flung it open, he ran smack into Rodney.
“Hey there, little brother. What’s the haps? Little late for company, ain’t it?” Rodney asked, leaning over Jermaine’s shoulder to look at Lauren, who was hastily pulling her sweater back on. She was mortified.
“Yo, dude, what you doin’?” Jermaine sneered, squaring his shoulders.
“The question is, little brother, what you doin’?” Rodney said, his eyes still on Lauren.
“Minding my business, that’s what,” Jermaine said. “You would be wise to do the same.”
“Oh, baby brother, you know any Duke business is my business,” Rodney said, smiling.
“How do you know my name?” Lauren asked, pulling her sweater tightly around her chest. The menacing look on Rodney’s face made her nervous, as did his hulking frame, which was wrapped in what appeared to be dirty work clothes. The lint in his natty braids didn’t help his cause, either.
“Lauren, right?” Rodney said, pushing past Jermaine and into his room. Lauren was silent. “I know your daddy.”
“How do you know Altimus?” she asked.
“No, baby girl—not Altimus. Your daddy—Dice Jackson.”
Lauren did everything within her power not to shudder at the sound of Dice’s name falling off Rodney’s lips. “He’s not my father.”
“Oh, he may not be your father, but he’s your biological, correct? At least that’s what he told me.”
“No, I don’t know what you’re saying,” Lauren said, confused. “How do you know Dice?”
“Let me break it down for you, then…” Rodney started.
“How about you just go on in your room and leave me to my company, Rodney,” Jermaine interjected. Steam was practically rising from the top of his head; his eyes were fire-red.
“Nah, li’l bro—I think your little girlfriend needs to know a few things about Daddy Dearest,” Rodney continued. “Daddy Duke and Daddy Dice go back—way back. And Daddy Dice ain’t none too pleased that ol’ Altimus done prospered so well, especially since he did it on Dice’s back.”
“Yo, I could kill you right now,” Jermaine seethed through his teeth.
“But you won’t, li’l bro. Blood can’t take out blood—it’s against the code,” Rodney smirked. “So I’m gonna pretend you didn’t say that. That’s one for ya.”
“Look,” Lauren said, standing up and grabbing her coat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about or what you think you know about my family, but I’ve heard enough. I want to go home. Now. Jermaine, please,” Lauren practically begged. She was scared beyond words and wished she were anywhere but standing in front of this lunatic in the middle of the night in the damn hood.
“Come on, Lauren, I’ll get you home,” Jermaine said.
“Yeah, run along, young’un. And tell Altimus he might wanna get ready to settle up.” Rodney laughed as Lauren and Jermaine broke into a trot past him. “Yeah, tell him it’s time to settle up.”
Lauren didn’t take a breath until she was sitting in the front seat of Jermaine’s car, and then she thought she was going to hyperventilate.
“Lauren,” he said as he started the car. “Baby, come on—talk to me.”
“I. Have. No. Words,” she said curtly. “Just take me home.”
Jermaine knew not to say anything else. He simply pulled out of his driveway and onto Hopewell Street.
It was 1:24 A.M.
And when they passed him, neither Lauren nor Jermaine noticed Altimus slumped down in the front seat of his car. Watching.
21
SYDNEY
“And by a landslide victory, your new Ms. Brookhaven Homecoming Queen is…” Principal Trumbull paused for emphasis. As she stood directly behind him on the podium in clear sight of the entire student body, it was all Sydney could do not to roll her eyes at the overzealous principal’s unnecessary dramatics. “Lauren Duke!” he finally shouted enthusiastically into the microphone. Blue and white balloons and silver confetti dropped from the ceiling as the entire ballroom applauded wildly. Sydney took a deep breath and reminded herself to look excited as she clapped along with the crowd.
Lauren, on the other hand, clearly had her look of “genuine” surprise down cold. She batted her eyes furiously and continuously mouthed the phrase “Oh, my God, I can’t believe this” as she stepped forward on the stage to accept her crown. Although it pained Sydney to admit it, her sister looked amazing. Dressed in a fitted silver-beaded Dolce & Gabbana gown and Jimmy Choo Swarovski crystal stilettos with a big ol’ Beyoncé-esque weave to boot, Lauren was nothing short of ethereal.
Principal Trumbull stepped to one side of the microphone and allowed Sydney to move forward with the enormous crown to the other. When Lauren finally reached the center of the stage, she stopped and turned to look expectantly at Sydney. “Congratulations, sis,” Sydney offered diplomatically as she placed the crown on Lauren’s perfectly coifed head. Sydney barely pulled her hands away from the crown before Lauren was on the microphone thanking the world like she had just won an Academy Award.
“Thank you all so much, this is such a surprise,” she droned on while Sydney scanned the countless faces in the crowd. The Homecoming Benefit Gala traditionally brought out the entire Brookhaven student body as well as recent alumni, and this year was no exception. To Sydney’s credit there was
n’t an empty seat in the room. For the first time ever, the Homecoming committee had managed to completely sell out all the tickets.
As Lauren finally wrapped up her long-winded speech and headed down to the dance floor for the traditional first dance with the football team co-captain and Homecoming King, Andre Brown, Principal Trumbull leaned over to whisper in Sydney’s ear, “I do believe this is the most impressive Benefit Gala in Brookhaven’s history.”
“Why, thank you, Principal Trumbull,” Sydney replied modestly. “I do what I can.”
“Keep these fund-raising efforts up, and Brookhaven will have a new library wing before your class graduates next year,” he said with an appreciative smile.
Sydney smiled in return as the slow song ended and DJ Quickfingers jumped on the microphone. “All right, y’all, I need everybody to report to the dance floor. ‘Cause it’s…about…to…go…down!” With that said, the first notes of Yung Joc’s club banger, “It’s Going Down,” exploded from the speakers and a stampede of students in formal gowns and tuxedoes rushed to get their swerve on.
“Well, you and that impressive young man of yours be sure to enjoy yourselves tonight,” Principal Trumbull offered as he patted Sydney on the back and turned to speak to Vice Principal Lang.
“Will do,” Sydney murmured as she watched the two men walk away. Pausing to admire her handiwork before heading back down into the crowd, Sydney had to admit that she was pleased. The past couple of weeks had been no less than a hot mess. It was good to see something turn out right. Now if only she could figure out how to wrap everything else in her life up as nicely, she’d be all right.
“You coming down to join the party or you plan to stand there looking like the cat that ate the canary?” teased a familiar voice from below.
Sydney looked down from the stage into Marcus’s grinning face. Wearing a black tux with white satin tie that perfectly complemented her black-and-white-striped Monique Lhuillier gown, it was easy for everyone to see why the two were considered Brookhaven’s best-looking couple. “I’m coming, I’m coming.” She laughed at being caught basking in her own glory as she walked above him toward the steps at the edge of the stage.
“Nice job,” Marcus complimented as he held out his hand to help her descent.
“Thanks. I believe the word Principal Trumbull used was…impressive. Yes, I do believe that’s what he said,” she said with a sly smile.
“Well, don’t get beside yourself now, Syd,” Marcus chided gently. “We both know this is just small change compared to how much I helped my mom raise for her campaign last election. I’m proud of your work, but—”
“Whatever, Marcus,” Sydney cut him short with an impatient sigh. This was her night and she wasn’t about to listen to him sing his own praises. “Do you wanna dance or something?” Sydney asked as she looked toward the crowded dance floor. She easily spotted Rhea in her crimson empire-waist Betsey Johnson dress, finger-snapping it out to Lil Jon’s latest remix. Rhea’s date, Tim Collins, was a varsity baseball player who sat next to her in Art History class. Although Sydney didn’t know that much about him, he seemed more than happy to be wrapping his hands around her best friend’s tiny waist.
Marcus looked at Sydney as if she’d suddenly grown a second head. “Are you serious?” he asked contemptuously. “You know I don’t do crunk music.”
“Me neither,” Sydney conceded, wishing he would loosen up sometimes, “but I was kinda in the mood to dance.”
“Tell you what,” Marcus said as he steered her toward the now empty table where they ate dinner earlier. “I’ll go grab us a couple of glasses of punch. By the time we finish with those, the DJ might actually put on some decent R&B music that we can dance to, okay?”
“Okay, fine.” Sydney playfully pouted as Marcus pulled out the chair for her to sit in. “Just promise you won’t get caught up in a conversation and forget about me!”
“How could I forget about my girl?” Marcus threw back as he headed off to the refreshment table on the opposite side of the room.
Sydney smiled as she watched Marcus cross the floor. As much as she hated to admit it, the boy had swagger. Recently, he’d been on a mission to make things between them right again. And she was falling for it, hook, line, and sinker. She glanced back at the dance floor and noticed Carmen rocking a gorgeous emerald-colored, backless Ungaro gown that she’d seen in a recent issue of W magazine. More interesting, Carmen was all hugged up with what had to be the cute boy from the golf-pro shop. Sydney shook her head and smiled wryly. If nothing else, Carmen always had good taste in clothes.
“Um, excuse me, miss. Is this seat taken?” Once again caught daydreaming, this time Sydney looked up into Jason’s inviting smile as he indicated the empty chair to her right.
“Hey, you,” Sydney responded softly as she took in his sexy charcoal-gray tux and silver bow-tie ensemble.
“I saw that you were by yourself, so I thought I’d come over and say hi. May I sit?” he repeated his request. Sydney instinctively looked across the room toward Marcus. “If it’s a problem…” he hesitated as he followed her glance.
“Actually,” Sydney replied as she watched Marcus on the other side of the room doing exactly what she’d just finished asking him not to do—holding court with his boys from Student Government—“it’s not a problem at all.” Much to Sydney’s annoyance, from the look of his relaxed stance, Marcus’s conversation wasn’t about to end anytime soon.
“Okay, good,” Jason replied as he sat down. “’Cause I didn’t want the night to pass without me getting a chance to tell you how beautiful you look.”
“Why, thank you, Jason.” Sydney gracefully accepted the compliment. “You look really nice, too.”
“Yeah, I like to think I clean up okay,” he joked as Sydney rolled her eyes playfully.
“Oh, is that so? And I wonder what your date likes to think,” Sydney questioned playfully as she made a point of looking around Jason for his missing date.
“Aww, man, I rolled with my boys tonight,” he replied easily as he picked up Sydney’s hand and admired the huge David Yurman ring she’d “borrowed” from Keisha’s jewelry box for the occasion. “Unfortunately, the girl I wanted to ask was already taken.” At a loss for words, Sydney looked away from Jason’s face and down at her hand, which he still held. “Anyway,” Jason cleared his throat and pushed his chair back, “sounds like they’re playing my song. You wanna dance?”
“Yeah, sure,” Sydney replied. She snuck another glance at Marcus, who was still deep in conversation.
“Cool,” Jason said as he stepped back to allow Sydney to lead them out to the floor.
Sydney took lots of deep breaths as she slowly walked in front of Jason. It felt like every eye in the room was on her as she led the way into the crowd. She searched for Rhea and Carmen, but for some reason, she couldn’t find either of them. Halfway to the middle of the floor, Sydney stopped and turned to tell Jason that she’d reconsidered. Dancing with the cute football co-captain had just as much, if not more, drama potential as a Friday night run to South City Kitchen, and more drama was the last thing she needed now. But when she saw the gorgeous smile on his face, she immediately changed her mind. “This good enough for you?”
“Works for me,” he answered lightly, putting his hand on her waist to get them moving in sync. When he let go, the spot on Sydney’s waist tingled lightly.
“Look who joined the party,” Carmen called out as she deftly moved through the crowd with her date in tow.
“You better work,” shouted Rhea as she pumped her hands to the sounds of Jim Jones’s classic, “Ballin’,” on her way over to join the crew.
Sydney smiled gratefully at her friends. Both Carmen and Rhea knew the unspoken good-girlfriend rule: Even if Sydney was dancing/kicking it with another guy, as long as her girls were around, she always had a built-in alibi. “My friends are hilarious,” she giggled in relief as she started to relax and enjoy the moment.
Two s
ongs later, Sydney turned to the beat and caught both Lauren and Dara staring at her, mouths agape. Sydney stepped closer to Jason and put an extra twist in her hips just for their benefit. Guess y’all aren’t the only ones with moves, she thought as Jason nodded appreciatively at the extra-credit action he was receiving.
“I thought you didn’t listen to crunk music,” he whispered good-naturedly in Sydney’s ear.
“I don’t,” Sydney teased, “but that doesn’t mean a girl can’t feel like shaking her behind sometimes.”
“Mmm-hmm, shake on,” he agreed as the run of uptempo songs finally ended with Ciara’s “Promise.” Sydney and Jason stood facing each other uncomfortably as the surrounding couples immediately moved in closer for the sexy slow jam.
“Well, I guess I better head back…” Sydney started.
“Yeah, you wore me out, Ms. Thing,” Jason agreed. He placed his hand on the small of her back as the two slowly maneuvered through the maze of writhing bodies.
“Thanks for the dance; I had fun,” Sydney said over her shoulder as they pushed through toward the edge of the dance floor.
“My pleasure,” he responded.
Before she could think of anything else to say, Sydney made direct eye contact with Marcus, who was now standing at their table with his boys, staring her down like she had just robbed his mother. As she stiffened up, Jason discreetly dropped his hand from her back. “Shit,” she hissed under her breath.
“You good? You still want me to walk you over?” Jason asked warily as he spied Marcus and his friends posturing.
“Um, actually I’m good,” Sydney said as diplomatically as possible. She could tell from Marcus’s face this wasn’t going to be anything nice.
“All right then, enjoy the rest of your night, pretty girl,” Jason said with a soft squeeze of her arm. Sydney didn’t dare turn to watch him walk away.
“You having a good time, Sydney?” Marcus’s best friend, Todd, was the first to speak as she neared the group.
