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Doing My Own Thing

Page 2

by Nikki Carter


  I cringe when they show a conversation that Dreya and I had at Mystique’s studio about Sam and our whole prom fiasco.

  She’d asked me about what happened and my answer was, “He didn’t play me. I uninvited him. It’s all good.”

  Then these dang editors skipped the most important part of the conversation where I deny ever pushing up on Truth at the club (which is what started the entire prom fiasco). The next sound bite is Dreya saying, “I’m just saying, why Sam is not checking for you. But Dilly is. He’s cute, but . . . you know.”

  Totally uncomfortable in here right now. Sam is looking all kinds of crazy and Dilly has nothing to say about Dreya’s compliment. He could’ve at least said thank you.

  Episode 3

  This is the prom episode! I sit back and relax myself, because even though I didn’t go with Sam, my dress, hair, and nails are fiyah!

  “We look good, Sunday!” Dreya gives me a high five in the air. I throw her one back.

  Whose idea was it for us to watch this together? Now Dilly’s got a smirk on his face, Bethany is all twisted up, and Sam has this glazed-over look on his face. This is all bad. I need the escape hatch right about now.

  I didn’t think this could get worse, but it does.

  Up on the TV screen Dilly spins me around and says his little freestyle. “I wish I had a million bucks, I do in my head/But I’d take a million of your kisses instead.”

  Then, they show Sam touching my shoulder and telling me to have fun. I don’t remember his face looking so sad when he said that, but I’m seeing it now live and in color. Finally the scene ends with Dilly putting his arm around me and whispering in my ear.

  I know that Dilly was making me feel better about not going to the prom with Sam, but nobody in the viewing audience could hear that!

  “Sunday . . .” Sam says. “For real?”

  Sam gets up and storms out! I get up and follow him, because I can’t let him think something crazy.

  “Pause that, Big D. I’ll be right back.”

  “Drama!” Dreya hollers out with a laugh. I could smack her straight upside the head.

  When I finally catch up to Sam he’s standing outside Big D’s house, bent over with his hands on his knees and panting like he just ran a marathon.

  I run up behind him, my flip-flops slapping on the marble tiles. “Sam, please let me explain.”

  “It really looks like you were digging Dilly. I feel like such an idiot,” Sam says.

  “Listen, Dilly did me a favor by not letting me look like a lame at my prom. That’s all there was to it.”

  Sam turns to face me. “Sunday, come on. He was freestyling about a million of your kisses.”

  “That was for the BET cameras, Sam! I promise.”

  “So how many did he get?”

  “How many what?” Then my eyes widen with disbelief. “Oh, come on! Are you serious, Sam?”

  “I’m dead serious. How many kisses did he get that night? How much more than that did he get?”

  I puff air into my cheeks and blow it out all at once, probably giving Sam a good whiff of my grape-scented breath.

  “I did not kiss him, Sam! But how are you gonna be mad? Did you kiss Rielle at your prom?”

  Sam is silent for an extra-long moment.

  “I thought so. You’re tripping with this double-standard stuff, Sam. For real.”

  “I didn’t kiss her,” Sam replies. “I thought about you the whole night.”

  Even though most boys lie about this kind of thing, I believe Sam.

  “So what are we gonna do?” I ask.

  He shrugs and turns back toward Big D’s mansion and reaches for the door. “Right now, we’re gonna go finish watching this reality show. Then, after that . . . I don’t know what.”

  “Why don’t we play it by ear?” I ask as I walk through the door Sam holds for me.

  “Yeah. Okay.”

  Whoever said that girls bring more drama than boys totally has it twisted. Sam is full of drama! He’s worse than a chick.

  Everyone stares at us as we come back into the room.

  “What y’all lookin’ at?” Sam asks with attitude.

  Big D laughs out loud. “You run out the room like a little diva and then you wanna ask who’s looking at you? I thought you wanted us to look at you.”

  Sam snatches a couch pillow that was lying next to Shelly and throws it at Big D. Big D jumps up from his seat and puts Sam in a fake headlock.

  “You straight, dog?” Big D asks.

  “Yeah, I’m straight.”

  Big D presses Play and we watch the rest of the episode. One positive thing I can say is that they leave out the fight between Aunt Charlie and Dilly’s older sister LaKeisha. I guess that was too ghetto for prime time.

  Episode 4

  The scene starts with Dreya bossing Bethany around right before a concert. Dreya tells Bethany to “make herself useful and find her a can of Sprite.” Dreya doesn’t even look at Bethany as she gives the command. If she had, she would’ve seen the hateful look on Bethany’s face.

  Then they cut to a confessional of Bethany. She’s in tears, so I already know it’s gonna be all bad.

  On the television screen, a pitiful-looking Bethany dabs at her eyes with a tissue. “We all used to be best friends, you know? Me, Drama, and Sunday. We were a girl group and we were supposed to blow up together! Now, Drama acts like I’m her slave. I’m only doing this so I can get a record deal.”

  Dreya jumps up and grabs the remote control from Big D and presses Pause. “I do not treat you like a slave. I treat you like you’re my assistant. I can’t believe you got on national TV and tried to make me out to be some kind of diva, ’cause I asked your ungrateful behind to get me a can of Sprite. That’s the least you could do.”

  “It’s not what you ask,” Bethany says. “It’s how you ask. You’ve got a really stank attitude, Drama. For real.”

  “Can we just finish watching it?” Truth says.

  Dreya hands the remote back to Big D, and sashays back to her seat next to Truth. “You’re just jealous, Bethany. If I get on your nerves so bad, you can get out of my apartment.”

  Bethany doesn’t reply to this. She slumps back in her seat, folds her arms, and pouts like a toddler.

  “I’m for real, Bethany, you can get out. I don’t need you up in my spot anyway killing my vibe with all your hatin’. Pack your bags, Ma.”

  Bethany storms out of the room and Dilly follows her. Dreya bursts into laughter as she snuggles up next to Truth.

  “Nobody cares if she’s mad. Come on, Big D. Press Play.”

  Episode 5

  This episode has more concert footage. They show the concert where the heel of Dreya’s shoe broke, and the one where my mic wasn’t working. They even include Dilly’s freestyle, which to me was super hot. Too bad he’s off comforting Bethany.

  Then, there is some dramatic footage of Truth’s arrest. I’d forgotten how scared we all were until I see everyone’s faces on the television screen. No one looks more terrified than Truth.

  “I believe that Truth is innocent,” I say in my on-screen confessional. “This is just a big mess.”

  I remember doing that confessional. It was the day after Truth got arrested. He was in jail in South Carolina, and Dreya and Big D had stayed behind to bail him out. It was an intense time for everybody, but Mystique pretty much saved the day.

  There’s a confessional with Mystique too. “It’s really unfortunate what’s happened with Truth. I just hope we can get back to the positive things we’re doing with this tour. Sunday is really a positive artist! She’s got star quality.”

  Dreya stands to her feet and roars. “WHAT! What is she doing on our show giving Sunday props? Big D, you had something to do with this, I know. You’re so thirsty for Mystique to throw a little shine your way.”

  The television continues to play in the background like a soundtrack to Dreya’s meltdown.

  “That’s not true, but if yo
u want to believe it, I’m not about to argue with you,” Big D says. “Are you going to sit down so we can finish watching this?”

  Dreya ignores Big D’s question. “And Sunday. Don’t nobody need you defending my man. We all knew he was innocent. Nobody asked your little goody-two-shoe self!”

  “Someone did ask me! The BET producer asked what I thought. You trippin’, Dreya.” I respond in a heated tone. She’s starting to work my nerves.

  Truth pulls Dreya’s arm. “Come on now, babe. A blind man could see what’s going on here. Mystique, Epsilon, BET, and all of them are trying to blow Sunday up. But it’s all good. She can’t take your shine.”

  Oh no, he didn’t.

  I know Truth doesn’t want me to tell Dreya all about his secret lip-locking sessions with Bethany. Let him get out of pocket concerning me one more time, and he’s gonna get put all the way on blast.

  Dreya turns to Truth and smiles. “You got that right, baby. Sunday and her Disney looks and lyrics ain’t got nothing on me.”

  Dreya and Truth get up to leave the room. She makes sure to swing her behind in my face on her way out. I know she’s my family, but sometimes I really can’t stand her. But as soon as she sees Bethany and Dilly making their way back into the room, Dreya and Truth stop in their tracks.

  Bethany plops back down on the leather couch and Dilly reclaims his spot at her feet.

  “You done licking your wounds?” Dreya asks.

  Bethany ignores her, and folds her arms across her chest.

  Dreya leans forward in her chair and snakes her neck real hard. “I know you not trying to ignore me! Do you know who I am?”

  Bethany does not reply, but throws Big D a glance. “Can you please press Play?”

  “Ooh, you better be glad I just got my nails done!” Dreya says.

  Episodes 6 & 7

  These two episodes are actually kind of boring compared to the previous episodes—which is a good thing because everybody’s looking uncomfortable and edgy.

  A beeping noise comes from the kitchen. Hopefully, it has something to do with the delicious smells that keep wafting toward my nose.

  Shelly says, “Y’all want something to eat? The lasagna is ready.”

  “Yeah, we better pause here anyway. They need a break before the next episode.”

  Everyone looks at Big D. I, for one, want an explanation of what he just said. You can’t drop a bomb like that and then just go and eat lasagna like ain’t nothing twisted.

  “Forget the lasagna,” Dreya says. “Turn the TV back on, Big D.”

  “Trust me on this one. Take a break and get your head right, Drama.”

  “Do I need to start blowing up in here?” Dreya asks. “Ain’t nothing you can do to calm me down now.”

  I say, “Yeah, Big D. You’ve got us all stressed out now. We might as well watch it and get it over with.”

  Big D chews the toothpick hanging out of his mouth. “All right then. Sit down and buckle your seat belts. It’s about to get a little bumpy.”

  Episode 8

  The episode starts out innocently enough. It’s footage from my graduation reception at Applebee’s. Everybody looks like they’re having fun on camera, except Dreya, but that’s understandable because she didn’t graduate. She’s still working with a tutor to get that last English credit.

  Then it cuts to a Bethany confessional. Immediately, I can tell that something isn’t right because of the look of horror on Bethany’s face, both on the TV screen and sitting here in Big D’s living room.

  On-screen, she clears her throat. “First of all, I’m only on this tour because I want a record deal. I can’t stand Dreya anymore.”

  Dreya jumps up. “What?”

  “Sit down. There’s more,” Big D says as he waves his hand dismissively in Dreya’s direction.

  The confessional continues. “Yeah, I knew she wasn’t gonna graduate. That’s what happens when you cheat on your final. You get a zero.”

  The on-screen Bethany bursts into laughter. “Someone, let’s just say, a little birdie, told our English teacher that someone was selling her final exam, and what do you know? She changed it at the last minute.”

  This time when Dreya jumps up from her seat, she lunges toward Bethany. Truth pulls her back down. Big D presses Pause . . . again.

  “Drama, it’s cool. You wasn’t gonna get to cross the stage anyway,” Truth says.

  Dreya rolls her eyes and tries to snatch herself out of Truth’s grip. “That’s not the point! This chick is supposed to be my friend and she ratted me out?”

  “I didn’t hear that she ratted you out,” I say. I’m trying to keep the peace, but it’s kind of hard with Bethany sitting up here grinning, the scared look gone from her face.

  “Yeah, I ratted you out. I sure did! And what?” Bethany spits words across the room at Dreya like she done lost every piece of her mind.

  “Bethany, I think you need to roll out,” Big D says. “After this next part, I don’t think even I can hold her back from beating you down.”

  “I ain’t scared of her!” Bethany screams. “Press Play, Big D!”

  Big D shakes his head. “I don’t think you’re understanding. Bounce, right now, Bethany. Dilly, take your girl and roll!”

  Big D’s menacing facial expression doesn’t leave them much of an option. He looks like a big ol’ scary genie with his bald head, dark goatee, and hoop earring. He’d almost be a black version of that cat on the Mr. Clean bottle if his stomach wasn’t so big.

  “Come on, Bethany,” Dilly says. “I’m tired of being over here anyway.”

  “I want to see the rest of it,” Bethany says. “I’m ready for my close-up too, why you playin’.”

  “You’ll see it when it airs,” Big D says.

  I guess it’s pretty clear to everyone that Big D is not budging. Bethany and Dilly stand to leave.

  “Get your stuff out of my apartment,” Dreya says. “I ain’t playing either. If I come home and your stuff is still in my apartment, I’m throwing it in the middle of the street.”

  “Gladly. I wasn’t planning on living with you anymore anyway,” Bethany replies.

  “Wait, y’all,” I say. “You’re just mad now. Maybe, once you cool off, you won’t feel the same way.”

  “I’m not mad at all,” Bethany says. “I can’t stand her.”

  “Ditto!” Dreya screams.

  “Come on, Bethany,” Dilly repeats. “Let’s just go.”

  Bethany cocks her head to one side and looks at me. “Sunday, don’t forget your promise. I did what you asked, so now you’ve got to keep your promise.”

  She would be referring to the promise I made to her that I’d help her with her album if she stopped creeping with Truth on the tour. I think she was more scared than anything that I was going to tell Dreya and that she wasn’t going to be able to get her record done before getting voted out of the group.

  “I don’t have to do anything, but I will because I said I would. But I think you should leave now. For real.”

  Bethany tosses her long, brown hair over one shoulder and rakes her hand through it a few times to make it lay flat. She takes one last look at Dreya while running her tongue over her silver lip ring.

  “What are you looking at?” Dreya asks.

  Bethany doesn’t answer, she just laughs and walks away, with Dilly on her heels.

  When the door shuts behind them, Big D presses Play again.

  The next piece of footage is backstage at a concert. I remember this. This was when . . .

  OMG!

  I thought the cameras hadn’t captured this! On-screen, Bethany sneaks into a closet, and moments later Truth joins her. The footage is dark and grainy, like an episode of Cheaters, but you could still tell that it’s Bethany and Truth!

  Then there’s some more of Bethany’s confessional. “He’s gonna help me get a record deal, so it’s whatever.”

  Truth is sitting up in his seat, in total shock. Clearly the BET producer h
adn’t asked him about his hooking up with Bethany.

  “I’m gonna beat the dog slop out of that alley rat,” Dreya says.

  Truth touches Dreya’s arm and she snatches it away. “Don’t touch me!” she screams at the top of her lungs. “You’re just as bad as she is!”

  When Truth opens his mouth to speak, Dreya hauls off and slaps his face—hard enough to make his nose bleed. Truth touches the blood with a look of surprise on his face.

  Suddenly (although it feels like it’s going in slow motion), Truth shoves Dreya hard in the middle of her chest. Her breath comes out with an oomph sound as she flies into Big D’s white marble coffee table.

  “Hey!” Big D says. “That’s enough. You ain’t gonna be manhandling your girl up in my crib.”

  Truth laughs. “She should learn to keep her hands to herself. You ain’t see her slap me?”

  I shake my head in total awe of what’s playing out right before my eyes. My mother and Aunt Charlie have always told me and Dreya to never hit boys. I can almost hear my mother’s voice in my head right now. He might hit back, and I guarantee he’ll be stronger than you are.

  Truth wipes the still-dripping blood with the back of his hand. He goes downstairs to the studio portion of Big D’s house, and Dreya sits on the floor with tears running down her face.

  “Dreya, are you okay?” Yeah, I was just mad at her like fifty-two seconds ago, but in an emergency, Tollivers roll deep.

  She closes her eyes and gives a little dismissive head shake. “Of course I’m okay. He barely touched me. I just tripped, that’s all.”

  Okay, that’s not what I saw, but it seems Dreya wants to believe some crazy edited version of the truth.

  Big D says, “Why don’t we just watch the rest of this later? I knew y’all was gonna be mad, but dang . . .”

  “Just go, Sunday,” Dreya says with a small, trembling voice. She sounds like she’s fighting really hard to keep from crying.

  “Do you want me to drive you home?” I ask. I don’t feel one-hundred-percent comfortable about leaving her here with Truth.

 

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