by Nikki Carter
I reply, “This has nothing to do with this game. I dare you to be a good person. You told me that you’d changed, but I don’t see any evidence of that.”
Valerie rolls her eyes. “Give me a break, Gia. You didn’t say anything to Jewel and Kelani when they asked that stupid choreography question. They’re the ones who brought the negativity.”
“And you had to continue down the same path, because you got embarrassed?” Ricky asks. “You need to get over yourself, Valerie.”
Valerie stands up and walks to the door. “You know what? I’m over all you lames. I’m out of here. Anyone who’s in my hotel room better come now, or you aren’t getting in.”
Jewel and Kelani stand to leave. I say, “Y’all can stay in our room if y’all don’t mind sharing a bed. We’re not done having fun yet, Valerie. If you want to act evil you can do it by yourself.”
Both Kelani and Jewel have a seat back on the bed. Valerie looks undecided. I think she really wants to stay but is too embarrassed to say so. Whatever. I’m definitely not trying to make it easy for her. She hasn’t changed one bit. She’s still the same mean, sneaky, and conniving Valerie that she’s always been.
Ricky says, “Valerie, you’re welcome to stay, but only if you’re going to be nice.”
“Does that rule go for everyone?” Valerie asks.
I guess this is fair, because Hope got a little bit carried away too. I’m just glad they never got around to my turn. I was going to have to say dare, because the questions they were asking were bananas.
“Yes,” Ricky says, “it goes for everyone. We’re all friends here, so let’s keep it friendly.”
“Let’s play spades!” I suggest. “It’s a totally drama–free game.”
Valerie’s breathing slows and she seems to calm down. She returns to her seat on the bed and says, “Deal me in, Gia.”
As I deal the cards I completely change the subject. “So, Ricky, do you think the Spartans are going to go to the state championship this year?”
“Well, we lost in the playoffs last year, but we really want to go all the way this year. I think we’ve got the squad. Romeo and James have really gotten better this year, and we’ve got this freshman, Lincoln, who is totally off the chain.”
Hearing Romeo’s name makes me cringe. I have been doing a good job not thinking of that good crush gone bad.
“I know Lincoln!” Candy exclaims. “He is awesome. He was the star running back on our middle school team.”
Kelani laughs. “Dang, Candy! Calm down.”
“Somebody’s got a crush, I think,” Jewel teases.
A smile flashes across Candy’s face. “Well, he is cute. Unlike some people in this room, I’m not ashamed of my crushes.”
Hmm ... I wonder who she means by “some people”?
15
“Have y’all seen this?” Ricky fusses as he tosses a flyer onto the lunch table where Kevin and I are sitting.
I pick up the flyer and read it. It says, Ricky Freeman for Homecoming Court. Fresh from the Cedar Point drama of this past Sunday, Ricky doesn’t need this. Ricky is clearly furious, but I feel myself getting slightly amused. We rarely get to see Ricky with attitude, so I’m going to enjoy this.
“So what?” I ask.
“Congratulations!” Kevin says with a smile.
Ricky sits down at the table and crosses his arms angrily. “I did not want to run for Homecoming court. That’s not me. I don’t even know why someone would nominate me.”
“You should take it as a compliment,” I say. “Someone thought you were fresh enough to nominate. Deal with it.”
“Yeah, you should be proud. No one nominated me,” Kevin says.
“Y’all are not getting it. I just want to play football,” Ricky explains. “I don’t want to be popular because I don’t want to date girls, and everybody expects it.”
“Why don’t you want to go out with anyone, Ricky?” I ask. “You don’t have to lose your virtue just because you go out on a date.”
Ricky sighs. “Remember what happened with you and Romeo at the lake?”
I want to strangle him for bringing that up. How could I not remember? I’d pay someone hard-earned money to be able to forget that foolishness. Romeo took me out to the lake, tried to make me get busy with him, and then left me there. I’ll probably never forget that for as long as I live. Ugh!
“Yes, Ricky,” I reply. “Of course I remember.”
“Well, some girls are just like Romeo, Gia. They don’t stop until you do something freaky with them. Or worse, they accuse you of not liking girls if you refuse.”
Dang. I never knew Ricky was under so much pressure. I mean, I’ve never even considered that boys have to worry about their reputations too. No wonder Ricky wants to stay completely low-key.
“Ricky, how about if you, me, and Kevin all go to Homecoming together, like a crew?” I suggest. “Then you won’t feel obligated to have a date.”
“That sounds good. But will I say I already have a date if someone asks?”
I pause for a moment to think. Then the answer comes to me. “You should just say that you have plans.”
“Okay, enough about Ricky’s nonissues! Can we work on our assignment?” Kevin asks.
“What do we have written down so far?” Kevin and I have been working on our story line while we waited for Ricky to arrive.
Kevin clears his throat and reads, “Well, we have the main character as a guy named Steve who has superpowers. He’s telepathic and he sees into the mind of a girl named Helena. Helena likes him but acts mean to him every opportunity she gets. But he doesn’t give up because he knows she likes him, because he can read her mind.”
Ricky blinks rapidly. “Are y’all serious?”
“Yeah! You don’t think that’s good?” I ask.
Ricky replies, “Umm ... it sounds like y’all watch too many shows on the Sci-Fi Network.”
Okay, so that is one thing that Kevin and I do have in common. Science fiction is the bidness for real. Ricky is a total lame for not liking sci-fi.
Kevin asks, “Do you have something better?”
“No. I haven’t really thought about it at all,” Ricky says with a shrug.
“Then we’re going with me and Kevin’s story line,” I reply.
“Okay, cool. But as soon as y’all put Simon in some tights ...”
“His name is Steve,” Kevin says indignantly.
Ricky rolls his eyes. “Whatever, dude! As soon as y’all put Steve in some tights and a cape, I’m asking Ms. Beckman to change my group.”
“You can’t change! You’re stuck with us,” I declare while trying to restrain a giggle.
Valerie and her brand-new mini-me, Candy, sashay up to the lunch table. Candy has totally and unapologetically jacked Valerie’s swag. She’s wearing her long hair straight like Valerie’s and clipped on the side with a barrette. Of course, she’s rocking some stolen goods—a pair of Lucky jeans and a top that she got from Express. The most shocking part of Candy’s hookup is the Louis Vuitton bag that is most definitely out of her budget.
“Wow, Candy,” Kevin says, “you look like a model.”
Valerie smiles. “She does, doesn’t she?”
“Thank you, Kevin,” Candy replies with a tight, Valerie-like smile.
I lift an eyebrow angrily and say, “Nice bag, Candy.”
“Do you like it?” she says. “I got it on sale.”
“It must’ve been some sale,” I continue, “seeing that your allowance is only twenty dollars a week.”
Valerie scrunches her nose distastefully. “Don’t be a hater, Gia. It’s not a good look.”
“Whatever!” I roll my eyes and chomp one of Kevin’s French fries.
Valerie picks up one of Ricky’s flyers from the table. “Rick! You’re running for Homecoming court?”
“Unfortunately.”
Valerie grins. “I didn’t think you’d put your name in.”
“I didn’t,” Rick
y replies.
“Well, it’s still hot!” Candy exclaims. “Valerie’s gonna be the queen and you’re going to be one of the princes!”
“Pump your brakes, chica. We don’t want to jinx it.”
“I’m sorry, Valerie.”
Valerie pats Candy on the back. “It’s all good.”
Should I be annoyed that Candy has adopted herself a new big sister? Lemme think. Umm ... that’s a negative.
Valerie says, “Come on, girl. I’m hungry for salad.”
Riddle me this. Who is ever hungry for salad? I’ve been hungry for pizza, hamburgers, spaghetti, and even a good piece of birthday cake. But I have never, ever been hungry for salad. Valerie is weird.
Kevin’s eyes follow Candy and Valerie as they glide across the cafeteria. Yes, glide. Valerie moves like that on purpose so that people will stop what they’re doing and look at her.
And of course Candy’s gliding because Valerie is gliding. Boo!
Kevin takes a sip of his apple juice and swallows hard. “Gia, your little sister is cute.”
“Get real, Kevin,” I say. “She’s a criminal.”
Ricky laughs. “Are you jealous, Gia?”
Without thinking, my fist lodges itself in Ricky’s arm. “Ow!” he yelps in between laughs.
Kevin gushes, “I’m sorry, Gia. She’s nothing compared to you.”
“Shut up, Kevin,” I reply.
“But Gia, I mean it. You are a beautiful flower ...”
“Ugh! I mean it, Kevin,” I warn.
Ricky clutches his stomach from laughing so hard. “Kev, man. Quit it, before she swings on you.”
“Listen to the man,” I concur.
“Did you tell your mom about her shoplifting?” Ricky asks after finally calming his laughter to a dull roar.
“Not yet. There hasn’t been a good time,” I admit.
“Well,” Ricky says, “you better hurry, because it looks like she’s not planning to quit anytime soon.”
I look across the cafeteria at Candy and I watch her mimic Valerie. Right down to the way Valerie throws her head back in laughter, Candy is a carbon copy. It suddenly occurs to me that last school year Hope was Candy. Hope found out the hard way about how quickly Valerie loses interest in her friends.
I wonder how long it will take for Candy to find out.
16
Gwen holds a piece of paper close to her nose and reads it slowly. What’s written on the paper scares me worse than one of those Japanese horror movies. What is this terrifying piece of printed material?
It is a recipe.
The Lord cannot possibly be pleased.
Gwen hands me her vegetable chopper and says, “Gia, chop up this onion for me. I need a chopped onion and green pepper.”
I take the small, plastic appliance from her hand and put half an onion inside. She’s attempting to make Elder LeRon’s favorite dish—jambalaya and corn bread. I suppose she’s figured out that this new husband of hers is not going to eat baked chicken and spaghetti every day of the week.
“Maybe we should’ve started with something easier,” I say as Gwen looks in the cupboard for spices.
“You don’t think I can do this, Gia?”
“Umm ...”
“Seriously, Gia? Any idiot can follow a recipe.”
I know she doesn’t really want me to respond to that. I have seen many recipes bite the dust at the hands of Sister Gwen. I remember a bowl of spinach dip that poisoned the entire singles’ ministry like it was one of the ten plagues of Egypt.
“So why are you cooking all this anyway, Mom? Is it a special occasion?”
“No. I just want to make sure LeRon is happy. It’s part of my ministry as a wife.”
Are you kidding me? I think I just heard a bunch of little violins start playing. When she was single, Gwen never seemed to have a ministry of motherhood. I ate cereal so many nights that my body was shocked to have a piece of meat instead of a Cheerio.
Now all of a sudden, cooking is part of her ministry. Boo, Gwen! Just boo!
I’ve been trying to think of a way to bring up Candy’s little problem without being an obvious snitch. But nothing has opened up conversation-wise that would allow me to do this. So, I guess I’m going to just have to do the necessary.
“Mom, I have something to tell you ...”
Gwen looks alarmed. “What? What is it?”
“First, you have to promise not to say anything.”
“I will not promise anything. What have you done?”
“I haven’t done a thing, but it’s not my business to tell, so maybe I’ll just keep it to myself.”
Gwen sighs. “Gia, I cannot promise not to say anything. But I will promise that I won’t say anything unless it’s absolutely necessary.”
I consider this for a moment. Gwen may not think that it’s necessary to tell LeRon about Candy. As a matter of fact, she just might handle it herself. Not that this will be any easier for Candy, but it might be easier on me.
“Well, Candy... she steals.”
Gwen’s mouth falls open. “What do you mean, ‘she steals’? What does she steal? Money from my purse? From her daddy’s wallet? What?”
I should’ve prepared myself for Gwen’s rapid-fire interrogation style. Good grief! The president should hire her for terrorist questioning, because she is ridiculous with this!
“No, Mom, it’s not like that. She steals stuff from stores.”
“She shoplifts?”
“Yes, but it’s not just little stuff. She takes hundred-dollar jeans and Louis Vuitton purses.”
Gwen sits down on the barstool and fans herself with the recipe. “So that’s where she’s been getting all those fancy outfits?”
“Yes.”
“Have you actually seen her do it? Were you with her?”
“No, I’ve never seen it, but she’s pretty much admitted to it and said that her dad wouldn’t believe it if I told on her.”
Gwen takes the green pepper and slices it with a knife. I should say she’s murdering the poor vegetable. I know she’s thinking about what to say to Miss Candy when she walks in the house.
But I’ve done my part. My work is done. Let Jesus take the wheel.
Right after we get Gwen’s pot of jambalaya surprise (it’ll be a surprise if we can actually eat it) into the pot, Candy opens the front door, looking runway ready. Earlier, I didn’t notice her shoes. This child has the audacity to be wearing the black patent leather Juicy Couture pumps that I saw on sale at TJ Maxx.
“Candy, get yourself in here, right now,” Gwen says. Dang, she didn’t even let her get in the door good.
“Yes, Mama Gwen? Is there something wrong?” Candy asks as she sits on one of the barstools.
“I was going through your laundry and I noticed something strange,” Gwen says.
Candy’s eyes widen and she moves her Louis Vuitton off of the counter. Too late, boo. Gwen already peeped that out.
“What did you notice?”
“Well, you have several pairs of designer jeans that look brand-new. I also saw various expensive underwear that I know your father did not buy and I hope your mama didn’t buy. Do you care to explain?”
Candy rolls her eyes. “Is that all? I used my Christmas and birthday money to go shopping, Mama Gwen. My grandparents really hook me up during the holidays. Plus, some of those jeans belong to my friend.”
Gwen narrows her eyes, probably fine-tuning the mess radar. Candy smiles confidently and doesn’t look away for a second. This seems to put Gwen off, because she loves to do her little stare-downs. She uses the stare-downs to catch me in lies, and she does it well.
I’ve got to admit, Candy is hardcore. She’s got this down to a science, for real.
Gwen says, “All right, girl. I just want you to know that I’m watching you. I’m not going to have any foolishness going on up in here. You better believe that.”
“I know you’re watching me,” Candy says sweetly. “And the good Lord Jesus
is watching us all.”
Oh no she didn’t. If you see the sky cracking, please let me know so I can avoid the lightning! I’m taking myself right into our bedroom, because if the Lord doesn’t bring the pain, Mama Gwen just might.
Unfortunately Candy is right behind me. She slams the door and stands in front of my bed where I’m chillaxin’ with Mr. Tweety.
“You are such a hater, Gia.”
“Um, what?”
“I know you snitched to your mother, and that’s foul. Valerie warned me about your hateration.”
I would say something, but it’s against my religion to respond to foolishness.
Candy continues, “You’re just mad, ’cause your clothes are wack! And your friends are lame! And you’re lame!”
Candy’s chest heaves up and down and little beads of sweat pop out on her forehead. Yeah, she’s just a little bit extra right now. Looking crazy.
“Are you done?” I ask.
“Ooooh! I can’t stand you, Gia.”
“Ditto!”
Candy goes into her closet and pulls out a Juicy warm-up suit and lays it across the desk. “This is going to look so hot tomorrow. What are you wearing, Gia? Oh, wait, don’t even answer that. I already know it’s gonna be something from the JCPenney’s kids section!”
This heifer starts for real giggling like she’s said something funny. Um, yeah ... no. I’ll let her enjoy her foolishness for now. It’s only a matter of time before I’m the one tee-hee-hee’ing.
17
“Come on, Gia. Move your butt!” Mrs. Vaughn yells across the gymnasium.
I am late for Hi-Steppers practice today because Kevin wanted to get some work in on our short story. We have a difference of opinion on the ending. I think that our lead female, Helena, should find out Steve can read minds, be freaked out, and run off screaming. Kevin says that’s not romantic—as if he would know. But anyway, he wants Helena and Steve to get beyond their differences and attend the senior prom together. I vote no. Kevin can go ahead with all those rainbows, unicorns, and happy endings.
But anyway, our argument has me totally late for practice. Valerie and I have choreographed a sweet step to Kanye West’s song “Touch the Sky” and she’s already standing in front of the Hi-Steppers teaching it. There is this crossover move that we do right before we throw our hands up in the sky that is bananas! I can’t wait to do it at the game on Friday.
