by Nikki Carter
“If it’s going to make me mad, don’t tell me. I’ve got work to do, and I don’t feel like being all mad and twisted.”
“Well, you shouldn’t get mad, because it’s not about you. It’s something I’m thinking about doing, but I’m not sure about it.”
I roll my eyes and lie down on the bed. “What is it, Dreya?”
“So, the other day I asked Evan if he was going to marry me.”
My eyes widen. This should be good. “What did he say?”
“He didn’t say anything. He just laughed.”
I cover my mouth with my hand in shock. “What made you ask him that?”
“Well, I was out shopping with Evan’s credit card, and of course, Evan had to call them and say that it was okay for me to buy whatever I wanted. And one of the heffas that works there said that I was just like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman.”
“Wow. Wasn’t she a prostitute in that movie?”
“Exactly. And it really made me mad, so I said, ‘I’m not a trick, I’m Evan’s woman. I live with him.’ Then both of the clerks in the store cracked up laughing like they had some kind of private joke between them.”
“Aw snap, I know you were embarrassed.”
“I was, kind of, but then I asked them what they thought was funny. And they said that every girl Evan dated in the past five years said the same thing, but there was always someone new. Then, one of the girls said, ‘He ain’t the marrying kind, baby. Just get what you can and keep it moving.’ ”
“And so that made you ask Evan if he was going to marry you?”
“Yeah. I just wanted to see what he would say, and he backed up what those cackling hens at the store said. He’s not thinking about marrying me. I’m just the flavor of the month, or whatever.”
“So now what?”
“I’m going to do what the ladies told me to do. They said, get what I can and keep it moving.”
“So, you’re going to get him to buy you a lot of stuff?”
“Sunday, as smart as you are, you are really, really dumb.”
I kick Dreya in her big old butt with my foot. “Whatever. He’s already launching your singing career; I mean what more can you get from him?”
“I know a lot of stars that were hot for a minute, then people stopped talking about them. Now they’re doing reality shows still trying to get a check. I don’t want that to be me.”
“So, you don’t want him to launch your singing career, and blow you up? I don’t understand.”
“I’m going to get Evan to give me a gift that keeps on giving.”
I laugh out loud. “Okay, I must be dumb, because I have no idea what you are talking about.”
“I’m gonna have Evan’s baby, Sunday.”
Oh my goodness. “Girl, stop! Stop it immediately. I’m calling Auntie Charlie right now, ’cause you done lost your mind. Don’t you see what happened with Bethany?”
“Bethany is an idiot. She got pregnant by a high school senior. I’m not saying I agree with what she did, but I don’t disagree either.”
“Well, when do you plan on doing this?”
“My record is supposed to drop in May, and I really want that to happen. So, I guess after the record release.”
“Good. Then I still have some time to talk you out of this foolishness.”
Dreya shrugs. “It ain’t foolish if it works. You got your millions, let me get mine.”
Gia pops her head back into the room. “Um, are y’all gonna be done anytime soon? Because I’ve got to get dressed to go to the movies with my cousin.”
“Yeah,” Dreya says as she gets up from my bed. “Please, Sunday, don’t say anything about this to anybody. I’m trusting you, so don’t play me.”
“I’m hoping that you change your mind, so I’m going to pretend you didn’t say anything at all.”
“Good, because I need you to come up with at least five new songs between now and the weekend. My bad, Gia. Thanks for letting me have my cousin to myself for a minute.”
Gia nods. “Sure.”
Dreya blows me an air kiss and leaves, and immediately Gia plops down on the floor in front of my bed.
“What was that about?”
“She’s just living up to her name. Wants me to come up with a bunch of new songs for her record, like I’m some type of songwriting machine.”
My phone buzzes. A text from Dreya. I just got you a present. You’ll thank me later.
What is it? I text back, not sure if I want any of Dreya’s surprises.
She replies, Just trust me, cuzzo. Xoxo
What does Dreya, the most suspicious person in the world, know about trust? Something tells me that I should do just the opposite of trusting Dreya. Something tells me I should be afraid.
14
Piper and I are standing in front of our dormitory mailboxes. She’s looking for a check from her foster mom’s church, and I wasn’t expecting anything when I opened my box. Surprisingly, there is a big envelope, folded in half and shoved in my box. I take the envelope and flip it over in my hands. There’s no return address in the upper corner, only my name and address in big block letters on the front, and a stamp that says PRIVATE.
“What’s that?” Piper asks.
“I don’t know. But I think I’m going to wait until I get back to my room to open it.”
“Well, my check didn’t come, so I’m ready to go back upstairs.”
Piper’s phone chimes and she giggles as she reads her text message.
“Are you going to share?”
She shakes her head as she types in a reply. “It’s just L.J. He’s asking me what I’m doing . . . what I’m wearing.. . .”
“Ewwww!”
“Don’t hate on me just because I have a boyfriend, Sunday. You could have one too if you stopped being so stubborn about DeShawn.”
“I am not hating. I couldn’t care less about you and your freaky guy.”
“He’s not freaky! He’s just joking.”
I poke my lips out in a “yeah right” gesture. “When are we gonna meet him anyway? We talked about doing a double date. When is that gonna happen?”
“I asked him about that, and he doesn’t really have any homeboys that aren’t with someone.”
“All his homeboys are in relationships?”
Piper shrugs. “I guess.”
“That’s weird. Sounds like he just doesn’t want to share you with anyone.”
“Is that such a bad thing?”
“Not really, I guess.”
As Piper and I walk to the stairs, we nearly collide with Meagan, who is walking and texting at the same time.
“Dang, Meagan,” I say. “You should probably watch where you’re going.”
“I’m sorry. Linden was asking me what I’m wearing.”
Piper giggles. “My boyfriend was just asking me the same exact thing.”
“You both are dating freaks. Gross. Are your guys friends?”
Meagan shrugs. “I don’t think so. He’s never mentioned a James or L.J.”
“And L.J. hasn’t said anything about Linden. Is Linden a sophomore?”
“Yes, he is,” Meagan says with a nod. “And he’s about to pledge Chi Kappa Psi.”
“James too! They’ve got to know one another,” Piper says. “Maybe we should all get together, since I haven’t really gotten to spend any time with you since we got back from winter break.”
“Okay, let’s do it. We should do brunch or something. See you later tonight? We can watch movies and girl talk.”
“Really?” Piper asks. “You want to hang with me?”
“Of course! We’re both dating Morehouse men, and it seems like we’re going to be sorority sisters since you’re determined to pledge Gamma Phi Gamma next year,” Meagan says.
Meagan waves at us and bounces out of the dorm, and Piper’s jaw drops in shock. “Can you believe that?”
I start up the two flights of stairs to our rooms. “Nope. But I guess having a boyfriend
is a good thing for her, because she’s totally a nicer person now that she’s found her Morehouse man.”
“Tell me about it. Maybe I can stop hanging in you and Gia’s room now.”
I give Piper a fake sad face. “We’re going to be so sad about that.”
“Whatever. I’m going to talk to my boyfriend. You can go do whatever it is that you do in that room, because it dang sure ain’t homework.”
I shake my head and roll my eyes at Piper as we part. I do, in fact, have homework to do. I have to put the final touches on my paper. I’m not in the mood to do it though. I’ve got music on the brain—song lyrics. But I try to push that out of my head, because if I don’t get at least a B on this paper, I’m going to have a serious attitude.
I plop down on my bed with my mail, and start booting up my laptop. While the computer is going through its motions, I rip open the envelope. It’s a stack of papers held together at the top with a paper clip. Initially, I think it’s a contract, but it’s not.
It’s a paper on the themes of A Mercy. My homework assignment for composition class. There’s a sticky note on the paper that says, This one is on the house. If you like, contact me at [email protected].
I drop the papers like they’re covered in poison. Is this Dreya’s gift? I pick up the pages again and thumb through them. From what I can tell, it’s well written. Heck, it’s better than mine. Way better. This is an A paper in my hand.
If I didn’t buy it, is it technically cheating if I turn it in?
Since I already know the answer to my internal question, I sit the paper down on the upper corner of my bed, in clear sight but out of immediate hand reach.
I send Dreya a text that says, Really, Dreya? Why would you buy me this?
A few moments later there is a response. Because I need u to stop playin and write my songs.
I toss the phone on the bed after reading Dreya’s message. Then I pick up my notebook and write down the line that’s been stuck on replay in my mind. You never even knew me/You wanted me so bad/But what if I was the best thing/You never knew you had?/What if I left you?/What if I said good-bye?/Would you keep it movin’ on?/Or would you be like/I loved her/Wish I had’a treated her right.
I feel a tiny smile on my face. This song isn’t right for Dreya. She’d never sing anything so sentimental. It’s not her style.
Deep down, I know where the lyrics are coming from. My heart and mind kept trying to make sense of my breakup with Sam, but it just doesn’t make any sense, and I can’t make those remaining feelings go away.
I draw a few flowers in the corner of the page, and then write another song snippet that I’ve been playing with. You can’t compete/Hatin’ on me/Keep askin’ yourself /How could it be/That I passed you up/Lookin’ at me/Givin’ him somethin’ he wants/Doin’ all the things you won’t.
Now this is a Dreya cut. I can imagine the track that Sam might make for it. Staccato notes, with minimal flourishes, hitting hard on the beat and looping over and over again for effect. I don’t have a doubt in my mind that Dreya’s going to like it.
After I get those two songs out of my mind for the moment, I feel like I can work on my paper a little. I scroll through the pages and read what I’ve already written. I type a few notes on the page that I think can help the words flow better.
If only I was as good writing papers as I am at writing songs.
I pick up the purchased paper again as Gia comes into the room. I quickly shuffle the pages behind my back.
“What’s up?” Gia asks. “You finish your stuff?”
“Uh, no . . . not yet.”
“It’s due day after tomorrow. Do you want me to look and see what you have so far? Maybe I can help.”
I close my eyes and shake my head. I can’t accept Gia’s help or Dreya’s. I pull the laptop onto my lap and snuggle into my big pillow.
“I’ll be finished. I’m almost done.”
“Okay, then, I’ll be quiet if you want.”
I nod and smile, then turn my attention to the computer.
A Mercy is a piece of literature that studies motherhood. Can a woman be a mother without ever giving birth? In the world that Ms. Morrison has created, the physical process of pregnancy and childbirth don’t always ensure that there is an eternal bond between mother and child. There are bonds that go dee . . .
Suddenly, my computer screen goes blue and shuts down. “Crap! Crap! Crap!”
“What’s wrong?” Gia asks.
“My computer just crashed.”
“How much have you done today? Did you hit save?”
“I haven’t even done that much today, so I’ll just redo my edits. I’m glad I had saved it before.”
I press the power button on my PC, and it does nothing. This is odd. I flip out the battery and put it back in, but the computer still doesn’t boot up.
“Crap, crap, crap!”
“Still not working?” Gia asks. She gets up from her bed, plops down in front of mine, and takes the laptop from me. “Do you have a backup somewhere?”
“No. I didn’t back it up. I meant to, but I never did. Do you think you can get it to work?”
Gia shakes her head. “It’s not your battery. The power button in front shows that it’s charged. It might be an operating system error, or some Trojan virus that deletes files from the hard drive.”
“I don’t know what that means! Tell me what that means!”
“It means that you’re probably going to have to go back to your notes and piece together the sections.”
“What notes? My notes are on the computer!”
“You don’t have any notes in the margin of your book?”
“No!”
Gia slides down onto the floor in front of my bed. “Okay, I can help you put your paper back together. It’s due on Thursday, so we’ve got two days to do this.”
“Isn’t there some computer geek that can rescue my computer from sudden death?”
Gia shrugs. “If there is, I don’t know them.”
“I have to turn in this paper, Gia! And I don’t have time to start over from scratch. I’ve got a studio session tonight and one after class tomorrow.”
“Can’t you cancel one?”
I bite my lip and pull the pages from behind me. “I could . . . or I could just use this.”
Gia frowns and snatches the pages from my hands. “Really, Sunday? You bought a paper? You’re not a cheater. . . .”
“I didn’t buy it. My cousin bought it for me.”
“And that makes it okay? Didn’t she miss out on graduating for cheating?”
“Wait, wait. I wasn’t gonna turn the paper in as is. I was gonna rewrite it a little, switch some things around. . . .”
I don’t even need Gia’s judgmental frown to tell me that this is crazy talk. She’s right. I am not a cheater, but I don’t like failing either. I’m a winner.
Gia holds her hand out. “Give me that paper.”
I hesitate for a moment, and clutch the paper a little tighter. “But . . .”
“But nothing. I’m gonna text Kevin and see if he has any computer geek friends. In the meantime, we’re going to start reconstructing your paper. Together.”
“I have to go to the studio.”
She shakes her head firmly. “Not tonight. Call Big D and tell him you have an emergency.”
“You’re not the boss of me, Gia.” I say this, but not with confidence. It feels like she is totally the boss of me right now.
Gia gently pries the paper from my hands. “I’m not the boss of you, but I’m your sister. What kind of sister would I be if I let you do this?”
I quickly swipe at my eyes to get rid of my tears. Gia is absolutely right to take this paper from me, and I would do the same thing for her.
“You think I don’t know how you feel?” Gia asks. “I would be going crazy if I got two C papers in a row. But this can only get you in trouble.”
“I know. I was only having a split second of cr
azy. I don’t really want to cheat on this thing.”
“Good!” Gia tears the purchased pages in a bunch of little pieces and lets them fall to the floor. “You’re better than this. You are a Spelmanite, girl!”
“I am.” I grab a notebook and pen from my bed and turn to a blank sheet.
I write a few words. A Mercy is all about motherhood.
Then, I let out a sigh. This is going to take all night. I send Big D a text. Tell Sam to get started without me. Sending a melody for him to work on.
I press the voice recorder on my phone and sing the little hook snippet that I wrote earlier for Dreya. This ought to hold them over for tonight, and I can have my paper done by tomorrow . . . if I stay up all night rewriting.
“That sounds hot,” Gia says. “Is that what you were going to be working on tonight in the studio?”
“Yep. It’s another song for Dreya’s album.”
Gia stands up and says, “If we’re going to get this paper done, we need some power food. I’m gonna go and get your Starbucks, some chips, sandwiches, and Oreos. That ought to hold us.”
“That sounds good. Especially the Oreos.”
Gia smiles as she pulls on her shoes. “I know, right?”
As Gia grabs her purse and opens the door, I say, “Gia . . .”
“What’s up? You want me to bring back something else?”
I shake my head. “No. I want to say thank you.”
Her smile spreads even farther. “You’re welcome, sister!”
15
I can barely keep my eyes open as Dreya belts out the hook that I sent to Sam last night. Gia and I didn’t go to bed until five this morning. Gia even missed her morning class, but she said that it was okay; she’d borrow Piper’s notes later.
At any rate, I’ve only had a few hours of sleep, but I still made it to my studio session. And why would Evan decide to pick this one time to show up? Every time I nod off he looks at me like I’m crazy.
“Looks like Sunday needs to lay off the frat parties, huh?” Evan says as I drift off once more.
“I did my part,” I say as I wipe the drool from the corner of my mouth. “The song is written. The track is done. Dreya just has to sing it like she means it.”
