With Friends Like These

by ReShonda Tate Billingsley

  With Friends Like These

  Also by ReShonda Tate Billingsley

  My Brother’s Keeper

  Let the Church Say Amen

  Four Degrees of Heat (with Brenda L. Thomas, Crystal Lacey Winslow, & Rochelle Alers)

  I Know I’ve Been Changed

  Have a Little Faith

  Nothing But Drama

  Blessings in Disguise

  POCKET BOOKS, a division of Simon & Schuster, Inc. 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2007 by ReShonda Tate Billingsley

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

  For information address Pocket Books, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020

  ISBN-10: 1-4165-3956-5

  ISBN-13: 978-1-4165-3956-8

  POCKET and colophon are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster, Inc.

  Visit us on the World Wide Web:

  http://www.SimonSays.com

  Dedicated to Mrs. Jocelyn Reed

  Who dared me to dream…

  and challenged me to follow those dreams

  Acknowledgments

  I can never get tired of giving thanks. That’s because I have been blessed with so many wonderful people in my life, and I always want them to know how grateful I am for their continued love and support.

  First and foremost, thanks to the Creator, because without God none of what I do would be possible.

  To my supportive husband, Miron, thank you for everything, including the two most precious gifts I’ve ever received—Mya and Morgan.

  To my mother, Nancy Blacknell…thank you for the stories. You have given me a lifetime of happiness, joy, and stories. I take back all the bad things I wished would happen to you back when I was in high school. I know now, it was all for the best.

  To my little sister, Ta-Tanisha Dionne Tate…the wind beneath my wings. No, I’m not being corny, but you really are that breeze that keeps me going and helps me stay on the right track. Thanks for everything.

  Of course, once again, I have to give much love to my agent, Sara Camilli (the absolute best in the business). And to my absolutely, positively wonderful editors, Brigitte Smith and Selena James (who helped shape this novel into what it is before she abandoned me)…you ladies have done wonders for my writing career and I wouldn’t be where I am today if it were not for the two of you. Many, many thanks also go to Melissa Gramstad and all the other wonderful people at Simon & Schuster/Pocket Books.

  To one of my closest friends, Pat Tucker Wilson, have I told you I’m proud to be your friend? Thanks for always having my back. To the talented LaWonda “LaShay” Smith, thanks for being there whenever I called. Whether it was hooking up my MySpace page, or watching the girls, I always can count on you. I must also show my appreciation to the numerous schools and churches that have had me out to share my talents and knowledge, especially Westside High School and Christa McAuliffe Middle School.

  I could go on and on…but for the sake of creating more drama ’cuz I left someone’s name out…let me say this: Thank you everybody and their mama! (How’s that?)

  Thanks to all the young people who have sent me emails, stopped me on the streets, and gone out of their way to let me know what they think about my teen books. You make all my work worthwhile. Your love and support has been so overwhelming that we’re doing it again…keep an eye out for the next round of Good Girlz books!

  Until next time, thanks for the love.

  Peace.

  ReShonda

  (www.myspace.com/reshonda_tate_billingsley)

  With Friends Like These

  1

  Camille

  My name is Tameka Adams, and I don’t want to be here.” Tameka made the announcement like she was at an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. She twirled her fingers through her long ponytail as she sighed in frustration.

  Personally, I wanted to tell her to beat it, then. I know one thing, if she was coming to join our group, homegirl was gon’ have to lose the attitude. I mean, I know she’s Rachel’s niece by marriage and all. But she and her funky attitude needed to go.

  Rachel is our group leader, the founder of the Good Girlz community service group. Don’t let the name fool you, though. We all are far from good. Rachel started the group here in Houston as part of some youth outreach program at Zion Hill Missionary Baptist Church, where her husband was pastor. Her old snooty church members didn’t want her to start the group. But even though she’s First Lady, Rachel marches to a beat of her own. She told those old biddies where they could go. Now here we are, a year after we started. And even those people who didn’t want us at first are now feeling us.

  I ain’t gon’ even lie, though, I came here kickin’ and screamin’. But since my choice was either the Good Girlz or jail, well, I guess you could see why I’m here. The bad part was, I got in a whole bunch of trouble over my stupid, no-good, stank, dirty dog ex-boyfriend, Keith. Long story short, the fool went to jail for a carjacking, broke out, and had me hiding him in my grandma’s house. Then when the police came, he took off through a back window, and I was the one who got arrested for harboring a fugitive. Can you believe that? Me, a straight-A (well, sometimes B and C) person, got arrested. I was only fifteen, so I didn’t have to go to regular jail. I spent a week in a juvenile facility while they had a manhunt for Keith. And do you know where they found that dog? At his baby mama’s house. That was a bit of a problem because I didn’t know he had a baby. And I dang sure didn’t know he had a baby mama.

  Anyway, he got sent back to jail. They eventually found out he didn’t do it—it was his stepbrother—so he got out. And of course he tried to come running back to me, but I wasn’t hearing it. (Okay, maybe I did take him back one time, but he messed up again, cheating on me with his crazy baby mama, so I kicked him to the curb and I hadn’t talked to him since.)

  “Hello. Earth to Camille.”

  I looked up to see Angel waving her hand in my face.

  I snapped back to the meeting, not even realizing my mind had wandered off.

  “Glad you could rejoin us,” Rachel said with a smile.

  I shot her an apologetic look as she continued talking.

  “Now that I’ve explained to our new girls all of the benefits of our wonderful group, we want everyone to introduce themselves,” Rachel said. “Starting with you, Jasmine.”

  “Aww, Miss Rachel, it’s not like Tameka doesn’t know us. She’s been here before,” Jasmine protested. Tameka had come to our first meeting, but at the time she chose not to participate. I don’t know what had brought her back this time.

  “It’s not like she even wants to know us,” I mumbled.

  Rachel must’ve heard me because she cut her eyes at me. “Yes, but Julia doesn’t know everyone,” Rachel said, referring to the brown-skinned girl sitting in the front row. “And why must you give me a hard time on everything?” Rachel asked Jasmine.

  “Fine,” Jasmine said. “I’m Jasmine Jones.” She turned to Rachel with a huge smile. “How’s that?”

  Me, Alexis, and Angel cracked up laughing. Jasmine was our girl. Even though she was pretty, she used to have a complex about being so tall and athletic-looking. She’d been like Tameka when we first started, a mean tomboy who didn’t want to be here. But we’d broken down her guard, and now she was totally cool. We are all tight. The only other person who’d been in our group was Alexis’s friend, Trina. She joined
for a little while, but got arrested for shoplifting and sent to jail. (That’s another long story.) So I think none of us were too keen on anyone else joining our little circle, especially somebody with a funky attitude like Tameka.

  Rachel rolled her eyes. “You all are working my nerves.”

  Alexis raised her hand. “I’ll go, Miss Rachel. My name is Alexis Lansing,” she said, standing up, tossing her long golden brown hair over her shoulder. You couldn’t tell Alexis she wasn’t Beyoncé ’s twin. Well, you could but she wouldn’t believe you. “I’m a junior at St. Pius Catholic School.”

  “But she definitely ain’t no Catholic schoolgirl,” I playfully muttered, referring to her part in the little shoplifting spree she and Trina went on a few months ago. Angel high-fived me as Alexis, who was standing in front of me, shot me the finger behind her back.

  “Bigmouth over here is Camille Harris,” Alexis continued, pointing at me. “And that is Angel Lopez,” she said, pointing at Angel. “All of them are juniors at Madison High School.”

  Julia gave us a smile. She was a weird-looking girl with long black hair that looked like it was in need of a good washing. She wore a long black skirt and long-sleeved black T-shirt, even though it was the middle of August.

  “Now, Julia, do you want to tell us a little about yourself?” Rachel asked.

  Julia shrugged. “Not much to tell. I go to Lamar High School, and I had to come here because my friends do drugs. I don’t, but my parents think I do because I hang around them. They think if I come here, it’ll cure me.”

  We all stared at her. That girl was a druggie if I ever seen one.

  “Well, even though you don’t think you need to be here, maybe you’ll get something out of our group,” Rachel said.

  Julia didn’t look convinced. But Rachel didn’t seem to notice as she began talking about all the community service projects we would be working on, including the one we had scheduled for Saturday.

  By the time we wrapped up, I think all of us were worn out. Alexis, Angel, and Jasmine immediately gravitated toward one another, so I decided to personally welcome Julia and Tameka, who were sitting off by themselves.

  “Hey, are you guys going to be at the community service project Saturday?” I asked.

  Tameka folded her arms and stuck out her bottom lip. “I guess, since it seems like we don’t really have a choice.”

  Julia rolled her eyes. “Not if I can help it.”

  The three of us stood there, looking around awkwardly. I noticed Angel, Alexis, and Jasmine cracking up about something. Finally, when I saw neither Julia or Tameka were in a talkative mood, I shrugged. “Oh, well. See you guys later.” I went back to my friends, telling myself I’d tried. I’d just stick to the original Good Girlz, the ones I knew were my true friends. I guess we just had no room for outsiders.

  2

  Alexis

  I can’t believe I ate so much. My stomach feels like if I hiccupped, it would explode.” Jasmine rubbed her stomach as she leaned back in the seat.

  I shook my head at her. It just didn’t make sense to eat like a pig. I tried to tell her that, but of course, she wasn’t listening to me.

  We were leaving Jasmine’s favorite restaurant, the Golden Corral. As far as she was concerned, no restaurant in town could compare to the all-you-can eat buffet.

  I was dropping Jasmine off in front of her apartment complex. Tameka had gone home with Rachel and Julia was a no-show at this morning’s community service project. We’d gone to the Julia C. Hester House, a senior citizens’ center, and played bingo with the residents. It wasn’t the way I’d prefer to spend my Saturday morning, but it hadn’t been as bad as I thought it would be.

  Angel and Camille were in the back seat, stuffed as well. I was the only one who didn’t look like I was about to pass out. Probably because I had only eaten a salad. Jasmine had said that made no sense to her.

  “Why go to an all-you-can eat buffet if all you’re gonna eat is lettuce?” she’d asked.

  They just didn’t understand. I may have been slim and trim now, but I was a straight butterball just two years ago. People don’t even believe it, but I weighed two hundred pounds by the eighth grade. It was horrible, and my mother tripped all the time, which only depressed me and made me eat even more.

  But luckily, I took up running and started loving it. I ran every chance I got, and the weight just started dropping off.

  “Hey, what’s going on over there?” Camille said as she leaned up and pointed at the basketball court in front of Jasmine’s apartment complex.

  “Oh, that’s all the guys around here and their Saturday-afternoon basketball game,” Jasmine replied nonchalantly.

  “Oooooh, looks like a lot of cute guys over there,” Camille said, swooning.

  “Yeah, right.” Jasmine turned up her nose. “You don’t want any of these bustas from my neighborhood.”

  “Can I just look, dang?” Camille smiled. Jasmine shook her head at Camille’s boy-crazy behind.

  “I’m with Camille,” Angel said, leaning up as well. “Let’s go look.”

  “Bet,” I said as I pulled into a parking spot in front of Jasmine’s apartment. I shut off the car and grabbed some lip gloss. I dabbed it on my lips before passing it on to Camille and Angel, who did the same.

  Jasmine groaned as we started climbing out of the car. “Y’all act like you ain’t never seen no boys before,” she mumbled.

  “Look, just because you got your nose wide open behind Donovan, don’t hate on us,” Camille joked.

  “Whatever.” Jasmine waved Camille off, but I couldn’t help but notice the smile that crept up on her face. I knew she was thinking about her boyfriend, Donovan. He graduated this past May and was now away at college. Personally, I didn’t know how they handled a long-distance relationship, but Jasmine seemed cool with it.

  Camille was about to say something, but her eyes lit up at the sight of all the shirtless boys running up and down the basketball court, so whatever she was about to say must have no longer been important.

  “Girl, look at that dark-skinned one right there,” Camille said as she walked over and grabbed my arm. “He is so fine.”

  “Ewwww,” Jasmine said as she walked up behind us. “That’s Ricky. He calls himself Pretty Ricky. That alone should tell you something.”

  “Shoot, I see why he calls himself that,” Camille said, eyeing him up and down.

  Angel nodded. “You got that right. But I’m checking out the one over there in the white Nike tank.”

  We all turned toward a short curly-haired boy who was taking a swig from his Gatorade bottle.

  “You would choose the shortest one on the court,” Camille laughed.

  “Whatever,” Angel responded, running her fingers through her long, wavy black hair. “Short or not, he is too cute.”

  “That’s Jose. And he has a baby,” Jasmine responded.

  “Ummm, so do I,” Angel said. “So we could have a ready-made family.” She grinned.

  “Don’t make me throw up,” Jasmine said. “You think Marcus is a deadbeat dad,” she said, referring to Angel’s baby’s father, who didn’t want to have anything to do with her or their child. “Jose’s son is nine, and Jose still won’t claim him.”

  Angel turned up her nose, like she’d suddenly lost interest in him. “Unh-unh. I definitely don’t want a deadbeat dad.”

  “Jasmine, I don’t believe you’ve been holding out on us like this. This is where we should’ve been hanging out,” Camille said as she continued to look around the basketball court.

  “I know,” I added. “All this fineness up in one area. Like, oh my God.” I stopped talking and put my hand to my chest. “I think I’m in love,” I said as I stared at the court. “That is the finest boy on the face of the planet, and he needs to be my next boyfriend.”

  Jasmine closed her eyes and shook her head. “Girl, please. You don’t know any of these boys. Ain’t none of them boyfriend material. I don’t even know w
ho you are talking about. But I know the boys in my neighborhood, and none of them are people I’d fix my friends up with.”

  “Who are you talking about?” Camille asked.

  I grabbed Angel’s arm. “Oh, my God. He’s walking over here.”

  We all looked at a group of boys who were walking toward us. They were high-fiving each other, I guess because they had won their game.

  “The one with the basketball,” I said.

  Jasmine looked toward the boys and her mouth dropped open. “Double, triple, quadruple ewwww.”

  “Girl, please. You can not tell me he ain’t fine,” I whispered, lowering my voice.

  “Yes, I really can,” Jasmine said as the group walked right up to us.

  “What’s up, Jasmine?” Ricky said. “Who are your friends?”

  “You don’t know them,” she said with an attitude.

  “That’s the problem,” Ricky said, looking at Camille like she was T-bone steak and he was a starving dog.

  “Boy, beat it,” Jasmine said, flicking him off.

  Ricky laughed and turned toward the boy with the basketball. “Jaquan, why yo sister so mean?”

  “Mean queen, that’s Jasmine,” Jaquan replied.

  “You not gon’ introduce us to your friends?” another one of the boys said.

  “No, Kelvin, I’m not,” Jasmine replied. She looked over at me. I know I was still standing there with my mouth hanging open.

  “Don’t be like that,” Ricky said.

  “Hey, fools, we need to do the best outta three! Where y’all goin’?” Some boy yelled from the basketball court.

  All of the guys turned toward the yelling.

  “We gotta have a tie-breaker game,” the boy shouted as he threw his arms up in the air.

  “So these bustas ain’t had enough, huh?” Ricky said, laughing and shaking his head. “Let’s go again.”

  “A’wight, man,” Jaquan shouted to the boy. “Here we come.” He turned back toward his friends. “Come on, y’all.”