by Nikki Carter
“No. I just want everything to be perfect. Mystique is gonna be here, and a lot of Atlanta celebrities.”
“Let’s not forget about our friends from school,” Kevin says. “They’re going to be here too.”
“Yeah, but they’re not that important,” DeShawn says. “I hope Keisha Knight Pulliam and LeToya Luckett come. We can ask them out on a double date, Kev.”
Kevin shakes his head. “I do not deal with older women. Plus, they have money and we don’t.”
“They can be our sugar mamas.”
I know DeShawn is teasing me with this talk. He asked me yesterday could we start dating officially and I told him that I wasn’t ready yet. He was a little bummed until I told him we could keep dating unofficially.
Piper laughs as she walks into the living room. “Nobody wants to be your sugar mama, DeShawn. You need to get some gainful employment so that you can get a woman more than a Happy Meal.”
“I am gainfully employed as Sunday’s bodyguard and as a model. Don’t get it twisted. I gets mine. I’ve got an underwear ad to shoot on Sunday evening.”
“An underwear shoot?” I ask. “Where are the pictures going to be?”
“A few magazines and some billboards in the Atlanta area.”
Gia wrinkles her nose into a frown. “So your behind is going to be plastered all over some billboards?”
“No. My front is going to be all over the billboards, including my six-pack abs.”
Hope calls down from over the staircase. “I don’t believe you have six-pack abs. Let me see.”
“Hey! That was a violation, Hope! Don’t forget the purity rules!” Kevin says.
Hope rolls her eyes. “Dang, Kevin! I won’t forget.”
“I’m going to get changed for the party,” I say. “Gia, you want to help me pick out something to wear?”
Gia asks, “Do you want me to pick it out or help? Helping just requires me to stretch out on your bed, nod, and wave at you when the outfit is right.”
“You’re definitely helping. I know how to pick out my own clothes.”
“Sure you do. . . .” Gia says.
The front doorbell rings. The bell is a series of chimes that sound regal yet spooky at the same time. They remind me of something from The Twilight Zone.
“Should I open it?” DeShawn asks.
“Sure, but I’m not expecting anyone. Are y’all?”
When no one speaks up, I nod at DeShawn to open the door. He swings the big double door open, and there is a girl our age standing outside.
“Can I help you?” I ask as DeShawn stands next to the door, probably waiting for my signal to slam the door.
“I’m here for you, Sunday. Can I talk to you for a second? My name is Rielle.”
Rielle? Rielle? First question—why would Sam’s side piece show up at my house? Second, who gave her the address? I think I pretty much know the answer to the second question. Sam is the only one who could’ve told her where I live.
Only because I’m curious about her motives, I say, “Yes, you can talk to me, but we’ll do it outside.”
“You need me to go with you?” Gia asks.
“Nah, I got this.”
“I’ll be watching from the window,” DeShawn says.
I step outside and pull the door shut. I don’t know why I’m so adamant about not having her in my house. It seems like something of an insult to have the trick that destroyed my relationship in my space.
“How can I help you?” I ask.
“Sam asked me to come by.”
Instantly, I’m furious. What is he trying to do? Rub in the fact that he still has contact with this chick? I ban him from my house and he sends his girl in his place?
“Why would he do that?” I ask. “I don’t have anything to say to either one of you.”
“I just wanted to tell you that Sam and I . . .”
See, she’s already starting off on the wrong foot. She’s trying to have a conversation with me talking ’bout Sam and I. All bad. She needs to step.
“I don’t want to hear about you and Sam. It’s bad enough the lies that he told me.”
“Can you please just let me finish? Sam and I were never a couple. I can’t say that I didn’t want us to be, but I’ve known him my whole life. We grew up together in church.”
“Well, you can have him. Y’all can have a bunch of little kids that sing in the children’s choir. Leave me out of it.”
Rielle snickers. “Trust me, I’d want nothing more than to have that.”
“I know, sweetie.” I turn to go inside.
“Wait!” She grabs my arm. “I said that I’d want it, but I’m one hundred percent sure that Sam wouldn’t. All he cares about is you.”
“Well, he wasn’t thinking about me that night at prom, or when he was buying you a computer.”
“My prom night was the worst night of my life. He didn’t smile for any of the pictures and we hooked up, but it was a horrible experience. He apologized after.”
I stare at her blinking and wondering how I’m supposed to respond. I don’t know that this changes anything, but apparently, she and Sam both think that it should.
She continues, “He bought that computer out of pure guilt, and the fact that my mother and his mother are friends. I wasn’t even involved in the transaction. As a matter of fact, I’ve only seen Sam a couple of times in passing since prom night.”
“That’s not what your girl said when she walked up to me at the club tripping out.”
Rielle sighs. “Yeah, she hates Sam. All of my friends do. She was just trying to hurt him, and she did a good job of it, because y’all aren’t together anymore, right?”
“And you’re here now. Why do you care what happens with us?”
She shrugs. “I don’t, really, but Sam has always been a good friend even if he doesn’t want to be with me right now. He thinks he wants you, and he sounded so sad on the phone. So, I’m doing this for my friend . . . not for your relationship.”
“Well, uh . . . thanks, I guess.” I have no idea what else to say to this girl.
She turns and walks away, looking about as sad and brokenhearted as I felt when I found out Sam was playing me. She must really care about Sam. That must be a horrible thing to care for someone who doesn’t feel the same way.
Now I’m straight-up tripping, though! I wish she and Sam had left well enough alone. Why would Sam want to drop all of this on me now, right when I decided to move on and give DeShawn a chance? Well, I guess the answer to that is kind of obvious. He wants me back.
I remember telling DeShawn that Sam was a one-punch kind of guy—and not much of a fighter. I was wrong. He’s scrapping hard for me like a street fighter in a cage match. And those kinds of fights are never, ever fair.
Sam sending Rielle over here was a hit below the belt, and almost enough to bring my new romance to its knees.
DeShawn pokes his head out of the door. “You all right?”
“Yeah, I’m good.”
DeShawn steps outside and puts his arm around me. “You don’t sound like you’re good. Did she say something to hurt you?”
I clear my throat. “No, she didn’t hurt me at all.”
I’m not hurt, but I’m confused as what. I’ve shut Sam out based on something that isn’t true. What’s worse is that I’ve started something new, and now, more than anything I want to talk to Sam again, but I don’t want to hurt DeShawn—especially since he’s living in my house.
“Well, you know I’ve got your back, right? You don’t have to keep letting those jealous birds have any face time.”
“I don’t?”
“Nope, you should only fool with people that hold it down for you.”
“And that would be you?”
He laughs. “I’m one of them. But you’ve got a house full of people in there that care about you and have your back.”
I smile and let DeShawn lead me back into the house. It’s almost time for the party, but now I’m not
in a party mood.
Gia sees my facial expression and pounces. “Sunday, I forgot I need to tell you something, girl.”
She snatches me away from DeShawn and into my bedroom. She closes the door as I sit down on the edge of my bed. I look down at my hands and they’re shaking.
“So, what did she want?” Gia asks.
“She wanted to tell me that her friend was lying and that she and Sam are not together.”
Gia sits down next to me. “So what are you going to do about it? Are you gonna call Sam, or let it go?”
“What do you think I should do?”
“Is Rielle the only thing keeping you from being with Sam?”
I think about all the things that have happened over the last six months with me and Sam, and truthfully Rielle is only one of many reasons why we can’t make things work between us. She was the biggest reason, but definitely not the only.
“No. There’s other things too.”
“Well, then I say let it ride. If you and Sam are meant to be together it’ll happen. That’s what I keep telling myself about me and Ricky.”
“You’re right. I can’t worry about it, plus Sam is all the way in New York City, so that’s not even gonna work.”
“Not with DeShawn pushing up on you in close proximity every day.”
“He’s not pushing up . . . okay, yes, he is. He really wants to be officially dating, but I’m not ready to go there yet.”
“Do it when you’re ready. Or don’t. We’re free-thinking women, remember?”
I laugh out loud when I think back to that speech we got on our first day of being official Spelmanites. We’re supposed to change our environment, our situation, and the world by being free-thinking women.
I suppose that leaves me free to think about any boy I choose. And today, I choose DeShawn. Who knows about next week, or the week after, or the week after that! Maybe it’ll be Sam again, maybe DeShawn, or it could be someone totally different.
The beautiful thing is that I don’t have to decide the rest of my life right now. I can just sit back, relax, and get my shine on. It makes me think of the song I wrote for Dreya!
I’m a star, baby
Nobody checks up on me!
A READING GROUP GUIDE
TIME TO SHINE
Nikki Carter
ABOUT THIS GUIDE
The following questions are intended to
enhance your group’s reading of
TIME TO SHINE.
Discussion Questions
1. Sunday seems to be caught in the middle of Dreya and Mystique’s feud. Do you think Sunday handles this the right way? Should she be totally on Dreya’s side because she’s family, or should she be grateful to Mystique for helping her career?
2. Sam has made a lot of changes since he moved to New York City. Would you still date him, or was Sunday right to kick him to the curb?
3. What do you think about Gia and Ricky’s issue? Is Ricky’s breakup reason valid, or is he just not really into Gia?
4. Were you surprised how Meagan reacted about discovering her boyfriend’s secret? Do you think Meagan will ever make it back into Sunday’s entourage?
5. Should Sunday keep DeShawn in the friend zone, or is he a potential boyfriend?
6. Is Dreya’s plan stupid, or does it make sense for her to get what she can get while the getting is good? If you were her cousin, what advice would you give her?
7. What do you think about Sunday’s new living arrangement with her crew? Is this a disaster waiting to happen?
8. Do you still feel the same way about Sam after Rielle’s visit to Sunday? Does Rielle’s revelation change anything?
Read on for a sneak peek of
Nikki Carter’s next novel
in the Fab Life series,
GET OVER IT!
Where in the world is my songwriting muse? It’s that little light switch that goes on in my brain whenever I get ready to write a hit song. It’s my inspiration. My mojo. And for some reason it’s playing hide and seek from me when I really need to work on this song for my sophomore album.
I never had a problem finding my muse before. In fact, I never had to look for it. I only had to take out a pen and a notepad and let the words flow. It wasn’t work. It was like breathing. Now, I’m sitting on the leather sofa in my parlor with a pen and a pad, and nothing is coming out.
“DeShawn! You need to get these dishes out of the sink right now! You don’t have a maid picking up behind you.” Gia’s afro sways in time with her screams as she stands at the bottom of our enormous spiral staircase.
DeShawn screams back. “We do have a maid picking up behind us!”
“Well, she’s not here now, so you need to clean up behind yourself! I know your mama taught you better than that!”
DeShawn comes out of the bedroom and leans over the staircase. He’s wearing a tank top that shows off his great biceps, and even though he needs a fresh haircut and a shower, he still is incredibly gorgeous.
“Why you gotta put my mama off up in this?” Deshawn fusses.
I throw my notebook across the floor which stops their argument cold. Both Gia and DeShawn stare at me.
“Dang, Sunday, what’s wrong with you?” Gia asks.
“I’m trying to work!” I say.
“It’s the weekend,” DeShawn says. “Why are you working? We’re supposed to be going to the Chi Kappa Psi party, right?”
I shake my head. “No party for me. I’ve got to come up with some songs for my record, and y’all aren’t helping with all this yelling.”
“Um . . . I’m not trying to be funny, but this house has like a gazillion square feet and you have a master’s suite. Why don’t you go and find a quiet place?” Gia asks.
“I didn’t feel like being cooped up in my bedroom, and the sun is on this side of the house!”
“So you need the sun to write a song?” DeShawn asks. “Are you a plant, now?”
Did I say moving into a house with my six best friends was a good idea? It did start out well. I bought this huge mansion in Buckhead and there was enough room for my besties Gia, Piper, Hope, and the boys. Ricky and Kevin are best friends and they’ve known Gia and Hope since they were all toddlers. DeShawn is my kind of, almost sorta boyfriend, but not really. We’re like an unbreakable clique at this point, so it seemed logical for them to come with me when I moved off campus.
It’s been two months and I’m already ready to evict all six of them. Gia and DeShawn fight nonstop about everything from dinner to whether to party or not. And especially chores. Kevin likes blasting his gospel music before anyone wakes up. He gets up at five so that he can “spend time with the Lord.” It makes me feel like a heathen to complain, so I don’t. Ricky walks around in a constant melancholy state, because he and Gia are in love, but broken up. It’s a long story that even I don’t understand. Piper and Hope are the gossip girls who talk incessantly. I mean it’s nonstop with them. Once Piper fell asleep in the middle of a sentence. Then, she woke up and continued the story the next morning.
I pick up my notebook and pen and leave Gia and DeShawn to their current epic battle and take my non-muse-having self out to the pool deck. Where, of course, Piper is lying out trying to bronze herself in a teeny tiny bikini. Her long hair spreads out on the pool chair like a fan.
“Hey, Sunday,” she says. “Sit here! You want a smoothie?”
I start to object, but instead I shrug and sit down on the pool chair next to Piper. “What kind of smoothie?”
“Coconut, pineapple, strawberry, and spinach.”
I twist my face into a frown. “So that explains the green tint, huh?”
“Yes, but I promise you can’t taste the spinach. It’ll give you energy.”
“Will it help me write songs? Because I’m not feeling this right now, and I need to record at least one this week. Evan is starting to nag me about the project.”
Evan is the head of our record label, Reign Records, and he’s pretty stressed
out right now because my cousin Dreya’s album is about to drop, and he wants to follow it up with mine. He’s planning a summer tour with me and Dreya, but I know it’s not going to happen. Dreya is almost three months pregnant with Evan’s baby, but I’m not sure how many other people in the world know that.
Dreya not being able to tour is going to put more pressure on me to have a hot record. I think that’s what’s making me so stressed out. Evan stole my muse. He’s a muse snatcher.
“I know why you can’t write your songs,” Piper says after taking a swig of her green goop.
“Okay, since you know everything, tell me what’s wrong with me.”
“You have lost your balance, because your love life is a hot mess.”
I roll my eyes, lie back on the chair, and toss my notebook on the ground. I don’t know about my love life being a mess. It’s nonexistent.
“You need to call Sam and talk to him,” Piper continues. “Once you have closure in that situation, you’ll be free and clear to be creative again.”
“Who are you anyway? Dr. Phil?”
Piper grins and says, “I consider myself more of a white Iyanla Vanzant.”
“Oh my goodness. If you watch one more show on that Oprah channel, I’m going to get the cable turned off!”
“Hater! Kevin and I are trying to improve ourselves. We are on the cusp of greatness.”
I narrow my eyes and purse my lips together. “What does cusp mean?”
“I’m not sure, but Iyanla said it last night, so I know it’s something I want.”
I give her a blank stare and an extra heavy gigantic sigh.
Piper laughs out loud. “You can try to change the subject if you want to, but it doesn’t change the fact that you need to call Sam.”
I broke up with Sam because I thought he was playing me with a girl named Rielle, but then she showed up at my house saying that it was all a misunderstanding and that even though she really likes Sam, he seldom gave her the time of day. So, basically the reason we broke up is not even a real reason.
But even before I thought that Sam and Rielle were kicking it on the low, Sam and I were still growing apart. He’d started smoking weed in New York City; he dropped out of school and made out with a random chick after somebody dropped some ecstasy in his drink.
