No Boyz Allowed

by Ni-Ni Simone

  I blinked. I was convinced that spitting everything out in one breath must’ve been a talent. “Okay, on the cuteness scale he defies all numbers. Like straight up and off the charts.”

  “Snap-snap.” Pop smiled.

  “His name is Ny’eem.”

  “Awwwwl,” she whined. “So when y’all get married and have a baby, you could name your daughter Ny’eema and your son Gem. That would be so hot.”

  “Who’s getting married?” Kamani asked. She and Janay had just walked over to the table and sat down.

  “Gem’s getting married,” Pop volunteered. “And we were just about to plan the wedding. Y’all wanna be bridesmaids? ’Cause I already got the maid of honor spot.”

  “Oule, I would love to be in Gem’s wedding,” Kamani said, a little too excited. “I’m sure it would be real fly.”

  Immediately I rolled my eyes. I couldn’t stand phony chicks.

  “What’s the problem, Gem?” Kamani said. “You always have an attitude.”

  “Excuse you? I don’t always have an attitude,” I snapped. “I just don’t like chicks who pretend. Just be who you are and I’m cool.”

  “Look, I didn’t come over here for a problem. As a matter of fact, I came over here to say congratulations for making the team.”

  “See?” I hunched my shoulders. “Phony. You tried to play me when I tried out for the team and now that I made it you wanna be all up on me. Girl, bye.” I waved my hand dismissively.

  “You know what, Gem?” Kamani popped her lips.

  “No, I don’t know what,” I said fully charged. “But I do know that what will get its behind beat if it comes crazy. So watch what you’re about to say.”

  Kamani sighed. “What is your problem? And keep it real. How come you’re always getting smart with me? Like everything I say to you is a problem.”

  “Because that’s what it is. A problem. You always got my name in your mouth and I’m tired of it.”

  “You know what, I’ma just stop trying to be nice to you.”

  Whoa, what did she say? Rewind. Was she serious or just crazy? She was trying to be nice to me. Like fa’real dawg, have we been watching the same movie? “Kamani, you can’t be serious.” It took everything in me not to laugh in her face.

  “I’m sooo serious. I even mentioned it to Pop and she said that I should talk to you. So wassup?”

  I looked over at Pop. “Yeah, I told her that,” Pop said. “But I also told her that you two get smart with each other and that both of y’all needed to drop it. And especially now that we’re teammates.”

  “Pop has a point,” Janay said. “’Cause teamwork makes the dream work.”

  “Oh wow,” I said with my lips twisted. “You searched high and low for that Disney commercial didn’t you.”

  “Gem,” Pop said. “Now that wasn’t right. Janay didn’t do anything to you.”

  “Whatever.”

  “See, it’s not all them,” Pop insisted.

  I sucked my teeth. “Okay, whatever.”

  “I’m really not looking for beef,” Kamani said. “We all have the same vision, which is to win. But we need to get along to do that.”

  “Exactly,” Pop said.

  I took a deep breath. “Look, I don’t have anything against anybody unless they come for me. And truthfully, Kamani, I felt like ever since we met at the twins’ party, that you’ve been comin’ for me. Hard. And every time you see me, it’s one smart comment after another and another. And I’m not the one.”

  “Well, I feel the same way,” Kamani said. “And I’m really not the one for drama—”

  “What? You’re the definition of drama,” I snapped.

  “I could say the same thing about you,” Kamani said.

  “Say it, but just be ready to deal with the consequences,” I spat. “And you can believe that.”

  Kamani popped her eyes. “Let me tell you something, Gem—”

  “Would you two just stop it!” Pop said. “Come on. Just drop it and move on. Okay? The party was just a big misunderstanding and now we’ve moved on from that. We’re teammates. The ‘Bout-it-Bout-it’ crew. And we just need to all get along and be friends. Period.”

  Kamani didn’t say a word and neither did I. Especially since from where I sat Kamani was always—and I do mean always—bringing beef and trying to slaughter me.

  “Gem,” Kamani sighed. “Look, let’s just squash it and start over. Are you cool with that?”

  Silence. I tapped the balls of my stilettos. I really wasn’t used to making up like this. Usually if somebody constantly aimed for me I cut them off. Period. No second chances. No conversation. Simply finished and vowed to never speak another word to them again. But I guess . . . maybe . . . I needed to try something different. I looked over at Pop and her eyes pleaded with me to give it a try.

  “All right, Kamani,” I said. “Let’s start over.”

  “Straight,” she said.

  “Okay, so my name is Gem and you are?”

  “Kamani,” she chuckled. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Gem.”

  “Really?”

  “Yup. Like how you’re a great player who just made the b-ball team. That’s wassup.”

  “Thanks.”

  “So, I was thinking that like my girl Pop said, you should be a part of our crew.”

  “And what crew is that?”

  “The Rich Girlz.”

  I paused. I started to remind her that I created the crew, but then I quickly changed my mind and just rolled with it. “That would be kinda hot. I would like that,” I said.

  “Great.” Kamani smiled. “So okay.” She looked at Pop and Janay. “Who wants to swear her in?”

  “I’ll do it.” Pop stood up and said, “Stand up, Gem, and place your right hand over your heart.”

  I complied.

  “Now repeat after me,” she continued on. “I, Gem.”

  “I, Gem.”

  “Accept the honor to be a Rich Girl.”

  “Accept the honor to be a Rich Girl.”

  “And I understand—”

  “I understand—”

  “That being a Rich Girl means—”

  “Four things,” I took over the pledge. “R stands fa’real fly at all times. I stands for independent of bull. We don’t bring it but we will handle it.” I snapped my fingers. “C stands for cute. ’Cause that’s what we are. And H stands for hot is how we do it.”

  “And our sole rule.” Pop snaked her neck.

  “No boyz allowed to come between our crew,” I said.

  “Ever.”

  Everybody smiled and we sealed the deal with making hearts with our hands and saying our catcall, “Meow.”

  19

  Nothing had ever been so sweet in my life—not my favorite candy, ice cream, chocolate chip cookies (which I was semi-addicted to), not my favorite pair of stilettos, Nikes, or even the crowd roaring after my best jump shot—nothing had ever, ever, ever-ever been as sweet as being Mrs. Ny’eem Parker.

  It was electric.

  Exciting.

  Fantastic.

  Fulfilling.

  Simply put: it was all dat . . . and more.

  Fa’ real.

  Ny’eem and I had been together for two months, two weeks, and three days, and every day was better than the last. Never did I expect my life to unfold like this. Ms. Grier said that Ny’eem reminded her of Mr. Khalil and that he was the type of dude that any girl would be happy to have and believe you me, I was.

  We were at Ny’eem’s spot, which I called the messy bat cave. It was a small studio in downtown Newark, with a sunken area for his bed, red brick walls, wood floors, and exposed ductwork. I was surprised that he could afford a place like this, but he told me that his sister gave him the apartment as a gift, and all he had to do was go to school, work, play ball, and pay the household bills.

  Ny’eem lay across the foot of his king-sized bed, with his math book in his hand, while I leaned against his side reading Shake
speare’s Twelfth Night. Which I totally didn’t want to read, but being that I had a test coming up, and had to maintain a B-or-better grade point average to secure my spot on the basketball team—which was on a winning streak by the way—I had to keep my grades up or be chained to the bench; and I was definitely not about the benched life.

  “Ny’eem,” I said, as his phone rang.

  “Wassup?” he said, never once reaching for his phone.

  “Are you gon’ get that?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “ ’Cause I’m here with you and that’s more important at the moment. Now wassup?”

  I folded the corner of my book’s page and then closed it. “I’m hungry.”

  “Hungry?” He closed his math book. “Yo, what you think, I’m ’spose to feed you ’cause I love you? Nah, you got this baller messed up. I mean you’re welcome to eat some cereal. But I’m not about to cook.”

  Immediately my mind hit rewind and then it went on pause. Did he just tell me that he loved me? Really?

  “What did you say?”

  “I said you had me messed up,” he teased. “Especially, if you think I’ma cook you something to eat. ’Cause I don’t do that.”

  “I’m not talking about cooking. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

  He blushed. I couldn’t believe my baby blushed for me. . . .

  He really loves me. . . .

  “What?” he said. “What you wanna talk about? If I really just said that I loved you? Yeah I said it and in English, too,” he joked.

  “Oh, my goodness, poo.” Tears of joy filled my eyes. “You really love me,” I whined. “Me love you too, poo.”

  Ny’eem turned over and sat with his back against his black leather headboard. He stared at me, hard, deep, with a million thoughts racing through his eyes.

  “What are you thinking about?” I asked him.

  “I’m wondering where’d you come from. It’s like one day I was hustling solo—going to school, work, kickin’ it with my boys here and there, playing ball, and coming home. And that was it. I mean I kicked it with a few shorties but nothing serious and then you showed up.”

  I slid my arms around his neck and straddled his lap. “And then what happened after I showed up?”

  “I fell in love.” He gave me a soft peck. “You’re funny, you’re serious when I need you to be. You tell me about myself if I need to be checked. You’re my dude for real. My pot’nah. So yeah, I love you. I love the hell outta you.”

  I pressed my forehead against his and softly spoke against his lips. “I have never met anyone like you. Ever. And sometimes I wonder if this is a joke and someone is going to come along and say, ‘Psych, Gem, this isn’t your life.’ But this is my life. This is my life and I’m thankful that you’re in it.”

  I slipped my tongue into his heated mouth and allowed it to get lost there. He cupped my hips and we kissed, like never before. This kiss was something different.

  It had a different feel.

  A different magnetism.

  A different destination.

  Its own zone.

  A zone I’d never traveled to before, but wanted to go... needed to go . . . and needed to go with Ny’eem. Right now. At this moment.

  His hands caressed my back and left goose bumps in the trail of his fingertips. His heated touch melted my skin as he lifted my shirt above my head with one hand and reached for the wrapped condom on his nightstand with the other. “You want me to stop?” he whispered as he kissed me along my collarbone.

  “No,” I whispered back, surrendering to his kisses....

  20

  “I have a confession,” Pop said as me, Kamani, and Janay were in the locker room changing into our uniforms and preparing for practice.

  “What’s that?” I said as I slipped my shorts on.

  Pop took a deep breath. “I want my boo back.” She slammed her locker shut. “I can’t make him sweat anymore. ’Cause now I’m sweatin’ and other than on the court I don’t do perspiration.”

  Silence. I didn’t dare open my mouth. Pop and G-Bread was not the convo that I wanted to be involved in.

  “Girl, please,” Kamani said. “There you go giving in to G-Bread.”

  “Well, it has been almost three months,” Janay said as she laced up her sneakers. “And three months is hella long. He could’ve married a whole other chick by now and had some kids.”

  Kamani sucked her teeth. “Janay, stop exaggerating. It’s long enough to have another chick, but a kid? Be for real.”

  “Oule whee, what a great ‘Make-me-feel-better-committee.’” Pop snaked her neck and snapped her fingers. “Imagining my man with another chick just gave me the urge to cut somebody.”

  Don’t ask me why but I took two steps back. “Why are you always so violent?” I frowned at Pop. “You need to get some help for that.”

  “I’m not always violent. I just can’t imagine G-Bread with anybody but me.”

  I looked at Pop and thought, Girl, he doesn’t have another chick. Trust. You are the only one he loves and who loves his broke butt.

  “That’s the problem,” Kamani said. “G-Bread knows that and he takes advantage. You need to make him sweat for like a year.”

  “A year?!” Pop and Janay screeched.

  “She could be dead by then!” Janay spat. “That’s way too long.”

  Oooh-kaaay, now I understood why Janay didn’t talk that much because the ish that came out of her mouth was ummm . . . yeah, stooopid.

  “Suppose he does have another chick? Then what?” Kamani asked Pop. “Then how are you going to deal with that?”

  Pop tapped the ball of her left sneaker. “I would be cool,” she said, pacing from one end of the locker room to the next. “I would be calm.” She stopped pacing and turned toward us. “And I’d be collected. I wouldn’t be mad at all. I would just walk right up to the girl and say to her, ‘Looka here boo-boo. See that dude right there, if you don’t leave him alone, I’ma rock you into a sleep that you won’t wake up from.’ And then I’ma smile at her and let her know that I’m serious, but I’m still a lady.”

  I looked at Pop and shook my head. Out. Of. Control. Hoping they didn’t drag me into telling Man-Man’s business, I said, “Okay, I’ll meet y’all in the gym.”

  “Oh hold up, wait a minute,” Pop said. “Popcorn’s ’bout to put some push up in it. Why didn’t I think of this before my head started spinning? Gem, you’re his sister and my bff, and since we don’t keep secrets, ’cause ain’t no boyz allowed to come between us—brothers included—then why don’t you tell me if G-Bread is seeing somebody else.”

  I bit the corner of my lip. Getting in between Pop and Man-Man was not the move. I took a deep breath and for a moment I started to just spit it out and tell Pop about the conversation Man-Man and I had a while back. But I knew a simple run-through of what he’d said to me would never be good enough for Pop. She’d want to know the time he started talking, did he cry, and how many breaths he took before admitting that he missed her. So nah, I’ll just cancel the thought of getting into their business. “Pop,” I said, shaking my head. “Don’t put me in the middle of this. If you want Man-Man, I mean G-Bread, back then call him up and tell him that you miss him. You never know, maybe he’s learned his lesson.”

  “Well, you’re his sister,” Janay said. “Has he learned his lesson or is he married to somebody else now?”

  “Be real. Just say it,” Kamani insisted.

  I sighed. “Look, y’all know Coach likes us to be early for practice. Let’s talk about this later.”

  “Oh, it’s like that, Gem?” Pop said, pouring the guilt on extra thick. “It’s okay, I understand if you see me suffering and in pain behind G-Bread and, just because he’s your brother, and I’m nothing more than your best friend, that you would leave me hanging. It’s cool.” She sniffed. “I got you. I showed up at your house three ninjas and an ex-con deep to handle some lady, but you can’t h
elp me and my heart out. It’s cool though, homie. I see how it is.”

  I huffed. Rolled my eyes to the ceiling. Sucked my teeth. “Look, he misses you, too, okay?”

  Pop’s face lit up. “When did he tell you that?”

  “About two months ago.”

  “Two months ago?” She twisted her lips. “That’s it, two months ago and just once. What kinda missing me is that?”

  “Pop,” I said. “He’s told me that he’s missed you every day since then. I told him to tell you that, but he said that he’s texted you, called you, tweeted you and the whole nine and you’ve been ignoring him.”

  She smiled. “Well how did he say he missed me? Did he say, ‘Imissher’? All in one breath? Because if he said it like that, then he just wants to get busy—which ain’t gon’ happen. Or did he say, ‘I miss my baby. I love that girl. She’s my world and I can’t live without her. I don’t ever-ever-ever-ever want to live without her. Matter fact I’ma need a noose if she doesn’t come back.’ Did he say it like that? ’Cause if he did, then that means he’s on the verge of a nervous breakdown and he loves me.”

  I blinked not once, but four times. “He said all of that and more. All you have to do is call him, and he will tell you that he loves you and wants you back. And believe me after you call and tell him that, he will be all over the house borrowing money from everybody to take you out. Trust me on that.”

  Pop smiled from ear to ear. “My baby still loves me.”

  “Awwwl, why don’t you text him now, before practice starts,” Janay said. “That’s what I did when me and David broke up. I texted him, his mama, and his step-daddy every day before practice until David saw the error of his ways and begged me back.”

  I didn’t even know what to think of that, so I acted as if Janay didn’t just admit that she was a stalker, and said, “We need to get to the gym.”

  “We have a few more minutes,” Pop contended. “And besides, y’all have to help me come up with a plan—Rich Girl Style—to get my man back.”