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Spin it Like That

Page 7

by Chandra Sparks Taylor


  He looked a little embarrassed and tried to extricate himself from the death grip Loretta had on his arm.

  “Girl, go sit down somewhere,” I said.

  Loretta swayed a little, and I realized she was drunk. I wondered where she’d gotten the liquor, since everything in the club was on the up-and-up—there was no sign of alcohol or drugs—but I figured I’d find out about that later.

  “Why you trippin’?” she asked, slurring her words.

  “No, why are you trippin’?” I asked. “You see we’re trying to have a conversation.”

  “Whatever,” she said. She reached into her purse and pulled out a modeling comp card that featured her in different poses and had her phone number on it, then handed it to Triple T. “If you or someone you know is ever looking for a model, look no further,” she said. She winked at him, trying to look sexy, then squeezed his bicep before walking away.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “That girl is crazy, but you gotta love her.”

  Triple T just laughed.

  “So what are you doing here?” I asked.

  “I came to see you,” he said, smiling.

  “Me?” I asked.

  “Yeah. I heard there was this hot DJ doing Teen Scene in Queens, so I decided to come check you out. Nobody told me how cute you are, though.”

  I blushed and glanced down at the floor. When I looked up, Kyle had stopped dancing and was staring right at me. He looked like he was about to come over, but I shook my head.

  “You’re really good. You seem like you’ve got a lot on your mind tonight, though,” Triple T said, drawing my attention from Kyle.

  “You can tell that from my music?” I asked.

  He nodded.

  “Wow, you’re really good. I do have some things on my mind.”

  “You want to talk about it? I’m a good listener.”

  “That’s really nice of you,” I said. “Maybe I’ll take you up on that offer.”

  “Maybe you should,” he said. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

  I bit my bottom lip, trying to keep from grinning. I couldn’t believe Triple T was asking me out. I decided to play it cool.

  “I already have plans,” I said, “but why don’t you catch me next week?”

  “I can do that,” he agreed. “Why don’t you give me your phone number and I’ll call you so we can hook up.”

  I rattled off my number and he pulled out his BlackBerry and punched it in. I could hear a phone ringing through his earpiece, and then I heard someone answer.

  “Hey, Jasmine. This is T. I’ll call you later,” Triple T said.

  “What are you doing?” I asked in amazement.

  He looked at me and winked. “Thank you,” he said a few seconds later. “I just wanted to make sure you had given me your real number. I didn’t want to have to track you down next week.”

  I laughed.

  “Look, I gotta get out of here, but it was really good meeting you. I’ll call you next week.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  “Yo, who was that clown stepping to you?” Kyle asked as we drove home.

  “Boy, for a guy who wants to be in music, you know absolutely nothing,” Loretta said from the backseat. “That was Triple T.”

  Kyle shrugged. “What did he want?” he asked.

  “Nothing that concerns you,” I said.

  Kyle opened his mouth like he was about to say something, but Loretta cut him off.

  “Triple T looks even better in person than he does on TV. You think he’ll call me?”

  Probably not, I thought, remembering his promise to call me. “Girl, who knows? You know how celebrities are—always got something going on.”

  “Yeah, that’s true,” she said. She pulled a flask from her purse and took a sip. “Want some?”

  I looked at her in my rearview mirror like she was crazy. “No, I don’t want any. Where’d you get that?” I asked.

  “Don’t worry about it,” she said, taking another sip. “That’s just more for me.”

  By the time I had dropped Kyle and Loretta off, I was exhausted. I pulled my car into the garage so I wouldn’t have to unload my equipment, and I headed straight to my room, glad that the house was quiet. I was a bit surprised that Mama or Derrick hadn’t waited up for me, but I was a little relieved, too. I lay in bed for what seemed like hours, replaying my meeting with Triple T. There was something about him that I really liked, and as I drifted off to sleep, I was hoping that he really liked me, too.

  chapter 6

  Although I knew Triple T would call me, it surprised me when my phone rang Monday morning.

  “Hello,” I said, still half-asleep.

  “Good morning,” a male voice said.

  “Kyle, why are you calling me so early?” I complained.

  “Is Kyle your man?” the voice asked.

  All at once I was wide awake, and I realized that the person on the other end sounded nothing like Kyle. “Who is this?” I asked, already suspecting it was Triple T.

  “Oh, you’ve forgotten me already?” he teased.

  I wanted to laugh, but instead I said, “If you don’t tell me who this is right now, I’m hanging up. I don’t have time for games.”

  He grew quiet for a second. “Well, excuse me,” he said. “It’s Terrence.”

  “I don’t know anyone named Terrence,” I said. By then I was grinning so hard my lips were almost touching my ears.

  “Oh, it’s like that?” he said. “Girl, this is Triple T.”

  “Oh, hey,” I said. I sat up in bed and glanced at the clock. It was only nine in the morning. “Can you at least pretend to be happy to hear from me?” he joked.

  “Boy, you are so silly,” I said.

  “So what do you have up for the day?” he asked.

  I shrugged, then remembered he couldn’t see me. “Not much,” I said, and it occurred to me as soon as the words were out of my mouth that I didn’t want him to think I didn’t have a life. “I’ll probably just chill until my brother gets home from work and then see if he wants to work on our performance for All-City.”

  “Yeah, I heard you guys did a really good job at All-District.”

  “You know how we do,” I joked.

  He laughed. “Would you like to hang out with me? I have to go into the studio today to lay some tracks. If you’d like you can come with me and then we can do something afterward.”

  “Okay,” I said, not concerned about sounding too excited. I had never been in a studio before, and I wasn’t going to miss this chance. “Where do you want me to meet you?”

  “I’m very impressed,” he said.

  “Why?” I said.

  “You don’t want me to come to your house for our first date. That’s good.”

  “I don’t know you,” I said with an attitude.

  “I know. Never let a strange man come to your house before you get to know him. You could be dealing with a psycho.”

  “Okay,” I said, impressed with the fact that he was keeping it real.

  “Why don’t you meet me in Manhattan at Hit Makers around noon?”

  “Cool,” I said, already at my closet trying to figure out what to wear.

  I decided to take the train into the city, and I spent the commute trying to imagine what it would be like to be in a real studio. On TV it seemed like there was always a party going on, with crowds of people talking loud, laughing, smoking, drinking and just having a good time.

  Turned out that was the reality, too.

  When Triple T met me at the front door of Hit Makers, he greeted me with a friendly hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Welcome to Hit Makers,” he said.

  “Thanks,” I said, looking around. The place was only about three stories high. We rode the elevator to the top floor, and when the doors opened, we walked down a short hall and stopped in front of a door. When Triple T opened it, smoke slapped me in my face. It only took a second for me to identify the pungent odor as weed. I wrinkled my nose.
/>   “I’m not going in there,” I said, stepping back.

  He just laughed. “I thought you wanted to be in the music business.”

  “I do,” I said.

  “What do you think your studio sessions are going to be like?”

  I thought about what he said and realized he was right. He allowed me to enter the room first, and although I took in the chicken bones and empty liquor bottles, my main focus was on the people. There were three celebrities in the room who currently had top ten Billboard songs. My mouth dropped open and Triple T laughed.

  “I thought I’d surprise you,” he whispered in my ear, and grinned.

  I just smiled and tried to pretend I was used to hanging out with celebrities.

  I took a seat on a low sofa and just chilled as I watched Triple T do his thing. I had to admit, I was really impressed. He reminded me a lot of myself, and it was obvious the artists respected him.

  Just as I was really getting into things, my cell phone rang, and I knew by the ring tone it was Loretta.

  “Hey, girl,” I said.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  I was just about to tell her the truth when I changed my mind, because I knew she would try to come to the studio. “Just chilling with some friends.”

  “It sounds like you’re at a party,” she said.

  I looked at all the action going on and grinned. “Something like that,” I said evasively.

  “Can you talk?” she asked.

  I glanced at Triple T and he was really into what he was doing, so I figured I had a few minutes for my girl. “Yeah,” I said. “What’s up?”

  “I’ve decided to get breast implants,” she said proudly.

  “What?” I screamed.

  Triple T looked at me curiously, but I just smiled to let him know everything was okay. I got up and asked someone where the restroom was, then headed in there so I could have a little privacy.

  “Have you lost your mind?” I screamed at Loretta before the bathroom door even closed.

  “Girl, why are you trippin’?”

  “First of all, you’re only sixteen, and second, someone will be cutting on your body.” She was silent for a minute. “Aren’t those surgeries expensive?”

  “Yeah, and?”

  “So where are you getting the money for it?”

  “I have a little saved,” she said defensively. “My mom said she would take out a loan for the rest.”

  “You have got to be kidding me,” I muttered. “Your mom is actually going to take out a loan so you can get some breasts?”

  “Yeah,” Loretta said.

  I just shook my head. “What made you decide to do this?”

  “I’ve been noticing on my job that most of the models being hired have implants. I think it will really boost the number of jobs I get.”

  I just sighed. I didn’t understand Loretta, and it was obvious her mind was made up. “What do you need me to do?”

  “I scheduled the surgery for next week. Can you pick me up afterward?”

  “How are they able to fit you in so fast? Don’t you need consultations or something?”

  “I’ve already done all that stuff. I wasn’t supposed to have it done until next month, but they had a cancellation. So can you pick me up?”

  “Yes,” I said grudgingly.

  “Cool,” she said. “I’ll call you early next week and give you all the info.”

  “Okay,” I said, and we hung up.

  I spent the next twenty minutes thinking about my conversation with Loretta. It had really messed up my day at the studio. Triple T must have sensed something was going on, because he came over to me.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  I just nodded.

  He grabbed my hand and led me out into the hall. “Hey, what’s going on?” he asked.

  “My friend Loretta—you remember, the one from the club?—she just told me about something she’s planning to do, and it’s got me tripping,” I said.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.

  “Not really,” I said.

  He nodded. “Well, if you change your mind, know that you can talk to me. Okay?”

  I looked down at the floor and nodded. He lifted my chin, forcing me to look at him. “Okay?” he said.

  “Okay,” I agreed.

  He smiled. “I think I know something that might make you feel better.”

  “What?” I asked. His chocolate-brown eyes had me mesmerized.

  “How’d you like to take a spin in the studio?”

  “Are you serious?” I asked.

  “Of course,” he said. “Maybe we can do a little demo for you.”

  “Okay,” I agreed, not even bothering to hide my excitement. “When do you want to do it?”

  “How about now?” he asked.

  “No problem,” I said. Thousands of beats rushed through my head, but I decided to just go with the flow and spin it like that.

  When I stepped into the studio for the first time, I felt as though I had come home. I took my place behind the mixer and Triple T gave me this dope beat, and as always, something came over me and I started vibing with the music. When I was done, I looked up to find everyone in the room staring at me.

  “Yo, that was hot,” said Mocha Love. Her record had been number one on the Billboard top ten for the last couple of weeks. “Yo, T, we gotta put her on the single.”

  I grinned as I looked at T.

  “You want to do it?” he asked.

  “Duh,” I said before I realized how childish I sounded.

  “Okay, we’ll get some contracts in place and talk money and see if we can get Jasmine back in here next week,” he said to Mocha Love.

  She shook her head. “Man, the vibe is in here tonight. Can’t we worry about all that legal stuff later and lay the track now?”

  Triple T was about to say something, but I cut him off. “It’s cool,” I said. “We can do it tonight and I’ll sign whatever. You don’t even have to pay me. I’m just honored that these guys would ask me to be on their single.”

  Triple T looked at me and frowned before walking over to me. “Excuse us,” he said to the room, and grabbed my hand. He led me outside again. “Don’t do that,” he said.

  “Do what?” I asked, not having a clue what he was talking about.

  “I know all this is cool and everything, but this is business, and we do things the right way, which means we get you a contract and your money.”

  “But I’m serious. You don’t have to worry about paying m—”

  “Jas,” he said, “this single is going to be a hit. Do you know how much money you can make for being on this album?”

  “But money isn’t everything,” I said, and suddenly my brother’s face popped into my head. “Think about the kind of exposure I’ll get from doing this. That’s something money can’t buy.”

  He shook his head. “We’re going to do this the right way,” he said. “I’ll let you record with them tonight since everyone’s here, but nothing gets released until the paperwork is in order. Deal?”

  “Deal,” I agreed.

  We headed back to the studio, and Triple T gave the nod that we could continue. Everyone took their places, and we got to work. By the time we left, the sun was coming up. I looked at my watch and saw that it was six o’clock in the morning. Although being in the studio had left me feeling alive, my gut was telling me that once my mother got ahold of me, I was dead.

  chapter 7

  My heart dropped when I saw a police car sitting in front of my house. I seriously thought about having Triple T drive past my house and never coming back, but I knew that wasn’t cool.

  “You want me to come in?” he asked.

  “Nah, it’s okay,” I said, hoping my voice didn’t sound as shaky as it seemed to me.

  “You sure?” he said, eyeing the police car.

  I gave a hoarse laugh. “Boy, quit tripping. It’s fine,” I said.

  He sighed and
shook his head. “I’ll call you later to check on you,” he said.

  I smiled and nodded.

  When I walked through the door, my daddy was sitting slumped over in a chair, tears pouring down his face as though he had lost his best friend.

  Derrick was the first one to spot me, and there was relief even on his face. “Thank God,” he said, running over to me, but Mama got there first. She gathered me in her arms and stroked my hair.

  “I was so worried,” she said, stepping back so she could look at me. “Are you okay?”

  I nodded, too stunned at how they were all reacting to speak.

  “Where have you been?” Daddy asked, stepping forward to hug me.

  I opened my mouth, but before I could say anything, Mama wrinkled her nose and frowned. “What is that smell?” she asked.

  I looked around, trying to figure out what she was talking about.

  She stepped toward me, grabbed a handful of my shirt and sniffed. “Have you been smoking weed?” she asked.

  Before I could respond, she hauled off and slapped me so hard I thought she had knocked out a few of my teeth. I grabbed my stinging jaw and looked at her through watery eyes, wanting nothing more than to slap her back, but I wasn’t that grown—or that stupid.

  “We’ve been up all night worried sick about you and you come in here smelling like weed?” she asked, incredulous.

  “But I can explain,” I finally managed to say.

  “It better be a good reason,” Mama said, and if I hadn’t already known I was in serious trouble, her tone proved it.

  “I met this producer the other night, and he invited me to go to the studio with him yesterday,” I said, getting excited at the memory despite my mother’s anger. “There were some Billboard artists there, and they let me record with them. I’m going to have a song on the radio in a few weeks.”

  I glanced over at Daddy, and he looked excited, but he tried to play it off. Derrick looked happy, too, so, knowing I had them both on my side, I turned to Mama.

  “I was vibing so hard with the music I didn’t realize how late it was,” I said. “Mama, I’m so sorry. I promise you it will never happen again.”

  Mama just laughed and shook her head. “I’ve been up all night wondering if you were lying on the side of the road hurt or even dead, and you tell me that you’ve been in a studio all night recording some song? Then you come strolling in here at seven o’clock in the morning and all you have to say is I’m sorry, it won’t happen again?”

 

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