Rumor Central

by ReShonda Tate Billingsley

  I knew I had him, I just needed to keep at it, so I could bring him over to my side.

  “Dad, you know I’ve always dreamed of being a journalist.” That was the truth. I actually was one of the few kids who had known what she wanted to be since middle school. My first choice was to not work at all, but if I did have to work, I wanted to be an entertainment reporter.

  “But this isn’t really journalism,” he replied.

  “You know I wanted to be on TV. And this is perfect. How many seventeen-year-olds in this country do you know that have their own show?”

  He smiled again. “That’s because you’re a Morgan.”

  As president of a multimillion-dollar company, my dad thrived on money, power and respect. Like my mother, I’d learned long ago that pumping him up was the best way to get whatever I wanted.

  “And Morgans play to win, give our best, strive for the best and accept nothing but the best—at all times—and by any means necessary,” I said with confidence.

  He laughed. “That’s my girl.”

  “You taught me well.”

  He sighed, then picked up his briefcase, which meant that we were done discussing this. “Okay, just watch yourself. I don’t want you getting into any trouble.”

  “Relax, Dad. The station’s legal team is on top of everything. I mean, if anyone is going to sue anyone, they’ll sue the station. They can’t sue me.”

  He turned to me. “Just be careful. Chenoa’s dad sounded pretty angry.”

  I folded my arms across my chest and rolled my eyes. Mr. Montgomery probably thought his daughter was some sweet little princess. If only he knew. “That’s because he doesn’t want to face what his daughter really is,” I said.

  “I’m just grateful that you’re not caught up in anything like that.”

  “And I never would be.”

  That seemed to pacify him and he kissed me on the top of the head as he headed out the door.

  I had to give myself props. I was famous (well, even more famous), making money, and now my daddy was firmly on my side. Life didn’t get any better than this.

  Chapter 19

  “And five, four, three, two . . .” The director, Manny, waved his finger to give me the cue to begin. I was ready. For the show and the aftermath once this story aired.

  The theme music wound down and I began talking. “Hello and welcome to Rumor Central, where we dish the dirt on the celebrities you love. Boy, have we got a good one for you today. What do Diddy, Paris, and Shaq all have in common? No, it’s not that they make their homes in Miami. It’s that all those homes have been hit by the notorious Bling Ring. You’ve probably heard the stories. Police haven’t been able to catch the crafty crooks, but Rumor Central has managed to track down some exclusive details,” I said with a slight smile. “That’s right. Rumor Central has the scoop, the lowdown, the nitty-gritty, the 411 on who’s behind the Bling Ring. And you won’t believe your ears . . . or your eyes. Stay tuned.”

  I could see Dexter in the control room giddy with excitement. The stylist rushed over and adjusted my David Yurman necklace, then brushed a strand of hair out of my face. Valerie stood off to the side watching in amazement. I could tell she was shocked about the story. There’d been rumors around school about the Bling Ring, but no one had ever confirmed anything. Well, that was about to change. They thought the cheerleading story was bad? I was in rare form. Wait until I finished this.

  “And we’re back in three, two . . .” Manny pointed to me and I began talking.

  “Welcome back to Rumor Central, where we get the dirt on the celebs you love. Someone dial up Miami PD and tell them to take note because Rumor Central is on the case. And we’re not spreading rumors today. We’ve got some cold, hard evidence. Video, from the notorious Bling Ring. And what better way to tell you than to show you. Roll tape.”

  The whole studio grew silent as the video of the three giggling teens running all throughout Shaq’s mansion filled the monitor. They’d blurred the faces—legal said something about them being underaged. Still, I envisioned Bali at home, having a serious meltdown. But I don’t know what he’d be upset for. He was the one doing the filming and had never turned the camera around on himself so no one could ever tie him to anything.

  I let the video play a few minutes. Blake was making lewd gestures toward the camera with several of Shaq’s championship trophies. The two girls were jumping up and down on an expensive-looking leather sofa as they laughed and poured champagne on the carpet.

  “Take a good look,” I continued as they made their way into Shaq’s kitchen and began tossing food out, guzzling beer and spraying mustard everywhere. “Rumor Central obtained the exclusive video—and while we haven’t been able to specifically identify the teens, rumor has it that they all hail from Miami’s elite. One, reportedly, is hip-hop royalty, another is heir to a real estate dynasty, and the other is a prominent businessman’s child. That’s right, these bad teens could easily buy the stuff they’re stealing. But we’ve learned they’re not in it for the money, they’re in it for the thrill. And don’t look for these crafty crooks to get caught anytime soon because I heard it through the grapevine that the Bling Ring is security savvy and they know their way around some security systems. So good luck to the Miami PD in tracking down these home invaders. Holla at your girl if you need some help.” I laughed. I only added that because the legal department had told me I wouldn’t have to talk to police because they had everything covered. “Of course, Rumor Central will stay on the case and keep you posted when more gossip hits the fan.”

  I tossed to a commercial break, came back, and finished out the show. After signing off, I prepared for the praise I knew was headed my way.

  Dexter did not disappoint, meeting me in my dressing room with a big, cheesy grin on his face.

  “Girl, you are the bomb-dot-com,” he said.

  I rolled my eyes at his attempt at being hip, but he didn’t seem fazed. “I can’t wait to see what you come up with next. Good job, Maya.”

  I half-smiled as he left the room. What I came up with next? The problem was I didn’t know how I could keep this rumor mill going. But I knew no matter what, I needed to figure out a way.

  Chapter 20

  I sat across the table from Tamara, toying with my pen, my mind a million miles away. I was thinking about Bryce and Sheridan. The homecoming dance was coming up and I couldn’t believe he was going to take her. We’d talked about what we were going to wear and everything. Now, it looked like I wouldn’t even get to go because no way would I go and have to look at their mugs all night.

  “Maya, are you with me?”

  “Huh?” I said, snapping out of my daze.

  “I was just saying, it seems like you’re not all here. And obviously, I was right.” Tamara set her pen down and leaned back in her chair. “So, what has you so preoccupied?”

  I hesitated. “Nothing. Really.”

  “Maya, I know I’m a few years older than you.” She flashed a sly smile, probably because she knew she was a whole lot older than me. “But, I’d like to think that we can be friends.”

  I let out a long sigh. It was hard maintaining my divatude 24-7. Sometimes, I just wanted to let my hair down and tell someone what was really going on. There was something about Tamara that made me feel like I could do that, so I said, “I don’t know. Just kinda bummed about the way everyone at school is trippin’ like I’m the one who is out of order for doing these stories.”

  “That’s understandable.” She patted my hand reassuringly.

  “Did you know Oprah Winfrey, one of the most powerful women in the world, even had her time when she struggled with people not liking her?”

  “Someone doesn’t like Oprah?” I asked.

  Tamara nodded. “Yep. And at the end of the day, she just had to do her and forget all the haters.”

  “I mean, I’m used to the haters,” I replied. “It’s just that, well, this is on a different level.”

  “Maya
, honey. It’s only just beginning. Your star is rising, so it’s only going to get worse.” The look on my face must’ve made her feel bad because she began sifting through some papers. “But, I’ve got something that’s sure to turn around those attitudes at your school.”

  I raised an eyebrow as I waited for her to find what she was looking for.

  “Here it is.”

  “Here what is?” I asked.

  She pushed a piece of paper toward me. It had a record company logo at the top and the title said DRAKE INTERVIEW/CONCERT.

  “Wow, we have an interview with Drake?” Drake was not only one of the hottest rappers out, he had to be one of the cutest. Almost every girl at my school was crushing on him.

  “No, honey. You have an interview with Drake,” Tamara said.

  Now that definitely lifted my spirits.

  “But that’s not the best part.”

  I couldn’t believe it could get any better than me doing a one-on-one with Drake.

  “His record company wants to do a private concert for a local high school,” Tamara said.

  “Why?”

  “The whole connecting with fans, remembering the people who made him what he is, yada, yada,” she replied.

  “Okay, and?” I was super excited about the Drake interview, but I didn’t see where Tamara was going with this.

  “And what better high school than the one the host of Rumor Central attends?” she continued.

  I studied her for a minute, then said, “Why would I want to give those busters at my school anything?”

  “Because you’ll have the last laugh,” she said like it was a no-brainer. “Who can hate on Maya when she’s bringing Drake to school?”

  “I mean, I’m venting to you, but I don’t care if they don’t like me or not,” I said.

  She smiled like she really didn’t believe me. “That’s not the point. The point is you’ll show these people that you always come out on top. You’ll show Sheridan and Shay and everybody else that at the end of the day, you’re the one with the juice.”

  “Oooo-kay,” I said, finally getting where she was coming from. “So, is this a done deal?”

  She took the paper back and put it in a folder on her desk. “Well, I’ll have my secretary contact your principal to run this by him.”

  “Oh,” I groaned. “Then we can forget it, because Mr. Carvin hates me.”

  “Oh, did I mention that the reason they want to do a high school is because they are bestowing a grant in Drake’s name. The record company is donating the money.”

  “The money doesn’t faze Mr. Carvin,” I replied. “The kids at my school are rich.”

  “Yeah, the money might not faze him, but the publicity does,” Tamara said. She didn’t seem the least bit worried. “So, we’ll go all out. We’ll do a big rally, the concert. You’ll introduce Drake, the whole nine.”

  A school concert? I was starting to feel what she was saying, but I still didn’t see how this would go over with Mr. Carvin. “I just don’t know,” I said.

  “You’ll see. This is going to be off the chain!”

  I laughed. Tamara and her whole crew needed some slang lessons 101.

  “Okay, if you say so.”

  “I say so.” She held up her palm to give me a high-five. I did, smiling at how she’d made me feel a hundred times better. “Now, let’s get back to work,” Tamara said.

  Chapter 21

  I had a headache and was dead tired, but I sucked it up and did my diva strut across the parking lot. I tried to do a cute yawn as I made my way down the hall to my third period (yeah, I knew I was super late, but I simply couldn’t make it to school for first and second periods).

  This juggling work and school was taking its toll, especially when you throw in all that it took for me to stay this fab—French manicures, keratin treatments, skin exfoliating, facials—all of that was time consuming. I made a mental note to see if I could “test out” of the rest of the semester. Yeah, I know no one had ever done that before, but I’d seen something about that on TV and if you asked me, I thought it was past time my school implemented something like that.

  I had just turned the corner when I heard Valerie call my name.

  “Maya!” she said, running toward me. “Where have you been? I’ve been trying to get in touch with you. Why aren’t you answering your phone?”

  I glanced at my phone, which was vibrating in my purse. I stopped and pulled out my iPhone. I grimaced when I saw the text from Tamara.

  Where are u? Been waiting 20 minutes!!

  Dangit! I’d forgotten all about our meeting this morning. I knew Tamara was going to be mad at me. She was actually meeting me at school this morning to do the presentation to the principal for us to host the Drake concert at Miami High.

  “I gotta go,” I said, making an immediate U-turn to head to the main building, where I was supposed to meet Tamara.

  “Wait,” she called out. The tone of her voice made me stop in my tracks.

  “What’s up, Valerie? I’m late. I was supposed to meet Tamara twenty minutes ago.”

  She looked at me strangely. “So, you’re okay?”

  “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” I massaged my temple. Dang, I had a serious headache. I’d gone to a party last night for the premiere of this new reality show. I wish Kennedi or even Lauren had been able to roll with me, but both of them had something to do. So, I just told myself I was there to network and meet people and once Tamara showed up and started introducing me to everyone, I was cool.

  “Wow. You don’t seem fazed,” Valerie continued. “I just thought . . .” She let her sentence trail off.

  “If you’re talking about Bali being upset about my story, I knew that was coming and don’t care.” Bali’s maniac behind had texted me all day yesterday after he’d seen the Bling Ring story. He’d threatened me in all kinds of ways. I’d deleted the first two, but then saved the others so I would have them if I needed them. “I told you. I’m not trippin’ off them.”

  “No, that’s not what I’m talking about.” I finally noticed that she looked all frazzled.

  “Valerie, what is wrong with you?” I asked. “I need to go. Tamara is going to go nuts about me making her wait.”

  “Obviously, you haven’t seen this,” Valerie said, handing me her phone.

  “Seen what?” I asked, taking the phone. I was about to tell her how all this shock-and-secrecy crap was working my nerves when I looked at her screen. My mouth fell open. There on her phone was a picture of me with my goodies all out for the world to see. I almost dropped the phone in horror. I was wearing a hot pink lace pair of panties and nothing more. At least my hands were covering my breasts, but I was leaned into the camera, my lips puckered up. That picture had been sent to Bryce and had been for Bryce’s eyes only.

  “How did you get this?” I exclaimed.

  “Everybody got them.”

  I looked up at her like she was speaking a foreign language. “What do you mean, everybody got them?”

  “Someone texted them.”

  “What does that mean? Who?” She might as well have been speaking Swahili because I had no clue what she was talking about.

  “Just what I said,” Valerie replied. “I was with my friend, Jennifer and we got it at the same time. I saw you come on campus and left my class to come show you.”

  I glanced back down at the picture like it was going to disappear or something. “Who did the text come from?”

  “I don’t know. It came from an anonymous number. I tried to call it back, but the number was blocked. Everybody got it at the same time.”

  “Who is everybody?” I shouted.

  “Everybody, everybody. The whole school, it seems.”

  I had to take slow breaths to keep from passing out.

  “I only sent this to Bryce,” I found myself muttering.

  “Do you think Bryce did this?” she asked. “I know the two of you were dating and I saw him out by the gym on my way here. He wa
s standing around laughing it up with his friends, so maybe . . .”

  I didn’t give her time to finish as I took off. I didn’t need to think about who’d done this. Bryce’s dog-behind. I knew we’d broken up, but I couldn’t believe he was going to go out like that.

  I spun around and headed toward the gym. Tamara would just have to wait a little while longer.

  “Hey, wait up, Maya. Where are you going?” Valerie called out behind me.

  I had never walked so fast in my stilettos, but I didn’t plan on stopping until my four-inch heel was planted squarely in Bryce’s neck. I spotted him immediately standing by the track, his friends gathered around him. There was no doubt what they were talking about the way they were all giggling and then backed up when they saw me approaching.

  “Maya!” Bryce said, shocked as I barreled toward him.

  “You low-down, dirty dog.” Before I knew it, I had my shoe off and I was hitting him all upside the head. His boys were laughing like crazy. “I can’t believe you did that!” I screamed.

  “Stop it!” he said, trying to duck my blows. “I didn’t do anything.”

  I kept hitting his lying behind.

  “Maya!”

  This time my name was being yelled from some other place.

  “Maya!”

  I stopped long enough to look up to see Tamara standing over me. The assistant principal, Mrs. Young, came rushing up right behind her.

  I was so angry, I was on the verge of tears, but I refused to let Bryce see me cry. He was definitely going to see my anger though.

  “I didn’t do it,” he said, all out of breath. He used the reprieve to jump out of my way. That didn’t stop me. I lunged at him.

  Mrs. Young jumped in the middle of us, stopping me from connecting my shoe with his head again.

  “Have you two lost your minds?” Mrs. Young screamed.

  “Oh, he’s about to lose something, all right,” I said, swinging at him. “His left eye.”

  This time it was Tamara who pulled me away. “Maya what in the world is going on?”