by Nikki Carter
“I love the beach!” I say. “We hardly ever get to go back home.”
Bethany sticks a toe in the water. “Girl, this is cold. I think I’ll just sit myself on one of these beach chairs and get a tan.”
Dilly runs into the water too. He actually starts swimming as soon as he gets in.
“You’re a fish, boy! This water is kind of choppy,” I say as he pops back up out of the water.
“This is nothing. Sam, you coming in?”
He shakes his head. “I’m about to go down there and see about the kayak rental. That’s what you want to do, right, Sunday?”
I nod speechlessly. I don’t know what to make of Sam today. He disses me at the airport and then flirts with a pretty Bajan girl as soon as we touch down. Now he’s taking care of what I want to do? Something is not adding up.
“Are y’all a couple or not?” Dilly asks me after Sam leaves to get the kayak, mirroring the thoughts in my head.
“Not, I think. But I can’t figure Sam out to save my life. One day he’s crushing on me, the next he’s telling me to kick rocks.”
I didn’t mean to be that candid to Dilly, but he’s about as good as anyone right now. I really need to work on cultivating my friendships. Maybe Sam was onto something when he talked about me chasing dollars. If the only person I have to talk to is someone who hated me a couple weeks ago, then there is a serious problem.
A few moments later, Truth and Dreya get to the beach. Dreya stands at the edge of the water with her hands on her hips and legs spread akimbo looking like an R&B chick rendition of Wonder Woman.
“You could’ve told me y’all were coming to the beach,” Dreya says.
I laugh out loud and slurp in a little salt water (eww). “Girl, stop. You know good and well that you and Truth don’t want to hang out with us!”
“I want to be wherever the cameras are,” Dreya says. “I’m not worried about Bethany at all. Plus, she’s got her little high school junior boyfriend with her. . . .”
“I’m a senior!” Dilly fusses as he sends a wall of water splashing in Dreya’s direction. “A senior just like you.”
Oooooh! No he didn’t just bring up the fact that Dreya didn’t graduate. That is a sore subject with her, and she doesn’t like to talk about it.
“Whatever, Dilly. I just passed my summer-school English class with flying colors. My diploma is in the mail.”
I walk out of the water and up to Dreya. “Why didn’t you tell my mom, and Aunt Charlie?”
“Because I don’t really feel like talking to them right now. Every conversation I have with my mother is about her telling me to stay away from Truth.”
My eyes follow Truth as he heads over to the kayaks with Sam. “It’s not without reason, Dreya. Aren’t you concerned he’s going to do something again? You aren’t scared?”
“Listen, the times that he put his hands on me, I really, really made him mad. I’m just not going to do that anymore.”
“Are you listening to yourself? You said you’re not going to make him mad! That’s impossible. There’s no way you can be in a relationship with a person and not get them mad at you for something.”
“All I have to do is love him unconditionally. He’s the one for me, Sunday. Every day I see that more and more. I want to spend the rest of my life with him.”
I shake my head sadly. Dreya reminds me of a song that my mom loves to sing by Tina Turner, “A Fool in Love.”
“Well, that’s not going to happen if Aunt Charlie has anything to do with it.”
“She doesn’t run my life, Sunday. I’m grown.”
Bethany strides past us and into the water with Dilly. She says something to him and then they both get out.
“I thought y’all were going kayaking with us,” I say.
Bethany says, “Nah, we’re going to the pool.”
“You know what it is,” Dilly adds.
I know they don’t want to be out here with Truth and Dreya, but who does? Not me! Especially since Sam is acting all kinds of ridiculous.
“Well, I guess I’ll see you for the video shoot then, Dilly.”
He waves as he walks behind Bethany. “Okay, cool.”
Dreya rolls her eyes. “Good riddance.”
“Oh, for crying out loud, Dreya. Give it a rest. Everybody knows what Bethany and Truth did. If you can forgive him, at least you can act civil toward her.”
“Nah, friends don’t do what Bethany did. I’ll never be cool with her again.”
“I agree, what she did was awful, but I don’t know if you two were ever friends to begin with. I mean, you treated her like the bottom of your shoe when she was your so-called assistant.”
“I treated her the way you treat an assistant. She just didn’t like the job.”
Sam and Truth walk back up right before I give Dreya another jab. We’re getting really used to these cameras being around, I think, because I’m speaking my mind like they’re not even here.
Sam says, “You ready for your kayak ride? Where’d Dilly and Bethany go?”
“They left. Too much extra company.”
Dreya narrows her eyes. “You know what? Truth and I can leave too.”
“Girl, bye! Take the cameras with you if you want. It seems like that’s the most important thing to you anyway.”
“Why y’all always arguing?” Truth asks. “Can’t we just get along for the next four days?
“Boy, please! You’re not even supposed to be here!”
“Come on, babe. I saw a nice, quiet spot on the beach, farther down past the kayak rental shack,” Truth says.
Dreya takes Truth’s arm and walks away in the direction of the shack. She looks back like she’s half waiting on the cameras to follow her. Okay, I was joking about that. They’re not really going to follow her. I knew it and so did she.
“Are we going on the kayak?” Sam asks again, this time sounding a little annoyed.
“Only if you want to,” I reply. “I’m not in the mood for anyone else’s attitude.”
Sam chuckles. “What about your attitude? Are you in the mood for your attitude?”
“Right. My attitude. Yeah, well, your people get on my nerves.”
“Dem in nuh good,” he replies.
I burst into laughter. “Sam, seriously! You too with the Bajan speak?”
“Yeah! I did my homework. Don’t hate me because you didn’t do yours.”
“So what did you just say?”
“They are no good.”
I nod in agreement. They are absolutely no good. “Let’s go. The kayak is waiting!”
17
It’s a good thing I’m already sun-kissed, because this sun is hot! I put on sunscreen too because Mystique fussed and told me to, and now I’m glad I did. Sitting out in the Caribbean Sea in a kayak with the sun beating down is no joke.
But still, it’s beautiful.
I glance over the side of our kayak, which is now bobbing effortlessly over the waves. “Look, you can see fish in the water.”
“I know. That’s awesome, right?”
“Heck yeah. Dilly and Bethany are missing out.”
Sam coughs and then clears his throat. “Maybe it’s better that they didn’t come out with us.”
“What do you mean?”
“This is so relaxing, and they’ve got a lot of chatter. Bethany chatters nonstop and Dilly is likely to bust a freestyle at any given time. It’s better that they’re not here.”
I totally flatline at “likely to bust a freestyle.” This is funny because it is one-hundred-percent true. You can say hello to Dilly, and he asks you if you’re favorite color is yellow and where you like to hang when you’re mellow.
He’s not a playa, he just raps a lot! OMG!
“You know this is the dream, right? You’re living the dream,” Sam says.
“We’re living the dream.”
Sam lifts his hands and motions wildly in the sky. “This is not my dream! My dream doesn’t include reality shows
and tours. My dream is me and my keyboard banging out hot beats.”
“To be honest, all of this isn’t my dream either, although I don’t know what I thought was going to happen with our singing group. I mean, I like being on stage and performing, but I really just want to go to college and be a regular girl.”
“You are going to college, but you dang sure aren’t going to be regular when you get there.”
“I know! I don’t want to be the celeb on campus. I won’t even be able to go to a fraternity party without it showing up on Mediatakeout.com.”
“Wow . . . you planning to go to frat parties? I thought you were going to college to learn.”
I laugh out loud. “Shut up! I’m going for the whole experience. The parties, the step shows, the lectures. I want all of it.”
“And have it you shall. Under the ever-watchful eyes of Atlanta’s bloggers.”
I glance off into the distance, at a splash in the water. “What kind of fish is making all that ruckus?”
Sam’s eyes widen. “That’s not a fish, Sunday. That’s a person! A girl is in the water!”
I squint to see better, since my vision is partially obstructed by the sun. It is a girl, and she’s flailing her arms, trying to yell and dipping beneath the surface of the water.
“Help!” I scream as if someone can hear me. We’re about two hundred feet from the shore, but it might as well be a thousand.
“She’s not that far from us, maybe fifty yards,” Sam says. “I’m gonna try to get her.”
“You’re not supposed to do that! Someone who is drowning will pull the other person under! They taught us that in swimming class.”
“But I’m trained as a lifeguard, and I’m a strong swimmer. Just stay here, I’m gonna pull her back to the kayak.”
I’m screaming my head off as Sam jumps in the water and swims toward the drowning girl. I wave my hands in the air and holler, pretty sure I look like an imbecile to anyone standing on the beach.
A lady looks at me and waves back. Then she runs toward the kayak shack. She sees me!
Sam finally gets to the girl, and she pulls him under more than once before he can get his arms around her. When she finally relaxes, he starts to pull her back to the kayak. I can see the vein on his forehead throbbing as he struggles to pull the girl.
He gets to the kayak and throws one arm over the side. Then he props the girl against the side of the kayak. It looks uncomfortable, but there’s no way that he can get the girl in the boat without tipping the thing over.
“Row, Sunday. Row us back to shore.”
“By myself? I’m not strong enough.”
“Yes, you are. The water will help. It’s only two hundred feet.”
I struggle with the oars that are connected to the kayak, but finally I get them going in the correct direction and we’re moving. Slowly, but we are moving. The girl is barely breathing; she’s probably swallowed too much water.
When I’m almost to the shore, several men run into the water and pull us the rest of the way. Why am I angry that the BET cameras are filming all of this? I can’t believe we’re having a near-death experience, and they’re videotaping it.
“My baby!” the lady screamed.
The men take the girl and gingerly place her on the beach. Another woman starts CPR, and after a few one one thousand, two one thousands, the girl sputters water everywhere, and starts to cry.
The girl’s mother (I presume) runs up to Sam and hugs him around his neck. He stumbles back a few steps. He’s probably not too strong himself after his daring rescue.
“You saved my daughter’s life, young man. I owe you everything.”
Sam shakes his head. “You don’t owe me. I would’ve done it for anyone. I’m just glad Sunday, here, dragged me kayaking.”
The lady hugs me too. “God bless both of you. If it weren’t for you my daughter would’ve drowned.”
I feel a twinge of guilt in my midsection because I had tried to talk Sam out of rescuing her, but no one has to hear that!
“Sunday, if you don’t mind, I want to go back to the hotel and lie down. I’m suddenly very tired.”
“Wait. Let me ask the medic.” I don’t like how wobbly Sam looks.
I run up to the medic as his crew gets the young girl on a stretcher. “Does he need oxygen or something?” I ask. “He doesn’t look too well.”
The medic trots over to Sam and makes him sit down on the sand. He checks Sam’s pulse and his other vital signs. He motions for someone to bring him an oxygen mask, tank, and some water.
“Take a few deep breaths on this,” the medic says.
Sam obeys, and the grayish cast that his skin had taken gives way to his normal golden glow. He closes his eyes as he inhales like it’s the breath of life or something.
“Stay here and rest for a few moments, but under a shade umbrella. Then when you’re feeling a little bit stronger go indoors and rest. Both of you.” The medic looks at me as well.
“I’m fine,” I reply. “Why do I need to rest?”
“The amount of adrenaline it took for you to row that kayak quickly back to shore will drain you of all your energy. You need to take a nap before you participate in any more activities.”
I nod thoughtfully. This makes sense, of course, but to hear it come from a medic as if it’s an order makes it sound a bit more serious.
I sit down next to Sam in the sand. “Are you okay?” I ask. “Let me know when you’re ready to go back to the rooms.”
“Give me a minute, okay?”
I dig my feet into the sand and whisper to Sam. “You’re a hero, dude!”
He smiles, but doesn’t reply. I wonder what it feels like to know that you just saved someone’s life. If it wasn’t for Sam feeling brave today, that girl would have drowned. She can’t be more than thirteen.
That’s deep.
We sit for what seems like a long while, enjoying the sea breeze and watching the crowd thin out. After the girl gets taken away in the ambulance/taxi, there isn’t much more excitement.
“I think I’m ready now,” Sam says.
“Okay, black Superman, let’s hustle back to the resort, before Mystique’s head explodes.”
“I forgot you have to get ready for your video shoot,” Sam says as he stands. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s cool. You were too busy saving lives!”
Sam gives me a huge smile that literally takes my breath away. If the resort’s medic sees me anytime soon, he’s gonna hit me with a one one thousand, two one thousand, for real. Then, he might just put that oxygen mask on my face!
“You okay, Sunday?” Sam asks.
“I’m perfect, Sam.”
Absolutely perfect.
18
“Tell me about the rescue.”
The BET cameraman and producer thought it would be best for me to do a confessional about Sam rescuing the girl almost as soon as we got back to the hotel. I got into hair and makeup for the first scene with Dilly and they were right outside the room waiting for me.
I shift on the tiny stool and try to get comfortable. I think they purposely pick these stools, because the only thing you can do is sit straight up, and look like you’ve got incredibly great posture when you would really rather slump.
“The rescue was awesome. Sam was . . . he was incredible. I’ve never seen anything so brave.”
“Was there any point in time that you were afraid? Did you think Sam wouldn’t make it back to the kayak?”
I pause for a moment to collect my thoughts. “I was afraid, but I can’t say that there was enough time to think or analyze the situation. Sam jumped in the water and I think we both just kind of went on autopilot after that.”
“Does Sam’s bravery make you want him as a boyfriend?”
OMG! Seriously? I didn’t think they’d go here, but of course, I should’ve known. They love to go here. It’s what gives them an interesting show.
“I don’t really like to talk about my person
al life, but I did admire what Sam did out there. I will definitely say that.”
“Okay, thanks, Sunday,” the producer says.
When I walk out of the confessional room, Mystique is pacing up and down the resort hallway looking really twisted. The director of my music video, Lena Che, is here too and she doesn’t look happy either.
“What’s going on?” I ask. “You don’t like my hair or something?”
Mystique looks up and appraises me as if she hadn’t already done it. Ooookay. It definitely wasn’t my hair that’s the problem. She just keeps pacing.
Lena says in her clipped British accent, “Sunday, it looks as if we’ll have to postpone the shooting.”
“Postpone? Why? We’re only here a few days!” I would hate for them to not get the footage they need, and me end up having a bootleg video that we film outside of Big D’s studio.
“Because Dilly went and got sunburned,” Mystique says. “I told that high-yellow dummy to put on some sunscreen.”
“Wait a minute, can’t we just cover it up with makeup? I mean isn’t sunburn just a little redness?”
Mystique shakes her head. “He didn’t just burn his skin, he basically got sun poisoning. He and Bethany were out by the pool at high noon with no shade at all. He’s got a fever, chills, and vomiting.”
“You have got to be kidding me!” I say. “What’s the contingency plan?”
Lena and Mystique look at one another, but neither of them respond.
“You mean to tell me that we came all the way to Barbados, and we don’t have a backup plan for this type of thing?” I hear myself ranting, and I try to calm myself down.
Lena replies, “I do know of a modeling agency in Bridgetown that can probably get us someone acceptable, but I don’t know if we can get them today. It’s Friday afternoon, and everyone is getting prepped for their weekend jobs. The models left will probably not be who you want to use.”
“Well, see about it anyway,” Mystique says. “In the meantime, I need you to practice your moves so that you can help whoever we hire. Lord knows they’re not going to have enough time to learn any choreography.”
“You want me to practice by myself? I don’t know if that’s gonna be effective,” I say, and I’m being one-hundred-percent honest. I need a practice partner.
