What Goes Around

by Denene Millner

  “Well, well, if it isn’t Altimus’s baby girl,” Brandi called out. “Fancy seeing you here.”

  “Yeah, um, hey, Brandi,” Lauren said meekly. “What up?”

  “Going somewhere?” Brandi asked, strutting toward the door. She touched her boy’s knee on the way over.

  “Uh, no, not particularly—just getting a little holiday shopping in,” Lauren stuttered.

  “Yeah, me, too,” Brandi said, looking down at her Juicy sweat suit. “I just love early presents, don’t you?”

  “Uh, yeah.” Lauren shrugged, sneaking a glance at Donald.

  “So, who’s your special friend?” Brandi said, tossing her chin at Donald. “You two looking awfully cozy together.”

  “This is my friend Donald,” Lauren said simply.

  “Your friend Donald, huh?” Brandi said, giving him the once-over. “Isn’t that special. He buying you some early Christmas presents, too?”

  “Who, Donald?” Lauren laughed nervously. “No, no, he’s not here to buy me anything. He’s, um, picking out presents for a friend of his.”

  “A friend of his,” Brandi said, her eyes shifting from Lauren to Donald and back to Lauren. “Well, speaking of friends, let me introduce you to mine—I’m so rude sometimes.” She turned back toward the dressing room. “Ki’anna, Dre, Lisa, Fly,” she yelled out, making everyone, including the already jittery saleswoman cowering behind the register, jump. “Come here,” she continued yelling, waving her friends over. “Come meet Altimus’s girl.”

  With a quickness, the four of them shot over to where Brandi, Donald, and Lauren were standing, each looking more angry than the next. Though her instincts told her to let go of Donald’s arm, she held on for dear life, feeling a little woozy by the sheer number of people—people who were friends of her man’s ex—who were now crowded around her. Lauren felt very, very small.

  Brandi cleared her throat and folded her arms. “Lauren Duke, this is everybody. Everybody, this is Lauren Duke, Jermaine’s, um, lady, though it looks as if she may have moved on.”

  “What? No, no,” insisted Lauren. “This is my friend Donald—emphasis on friend. You know, boy? Road dog? Ace?”

  “Uh-huh,” Brandi said. “Sure, and, um, has Jermaine been introduced to this ’friend’ of yours?”

  Lauren squared her shoulders; she was ready for a hasty exit—ready for this to be over already. “Look, I have some shopping to do, and obviously, so do you and your friends, so why don’t we just all go on back to what we were doing. I didn’t come in here for any trouble; I came for the boots.”

  “Oh, trust, sweetie, won’t be no trouble from this end, either,” Brandi said. “If you stop causing it.”

  “If I stop causing it?” Lauren asked. “You’re the one who’s got me surrounded in the Juicy store.”

  “Girl, ain’t nobody surrounding you. We’re just having a friendly chat. And as a mutual friend of your man—Jermaine, I mean, not Donald—I thought you should know that it’s time you opened your eyes and realized what’s going on. I mean, we’re not surprised that Altimus is all mixed up in Rodney’s beat down and all, but we didn’t know how deep the dirt goes in your family.”

  Lauren sucked her teeth and sighed. “Look, I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

  “I’m sure, sweetie,” Brandi said. “Go on ahead and keep that pretty little head in the sand. But the hood knows what’s up with the Dukes and the extended family…”

  “Look,” Donald interjected. “Really, we’re just going to get the boots…”

  “Yo, who asked you, playboy?” Fly boomed, stepping toward Donald. “You not about to stand here and disrespect my girl.”

  Donald shrieked and put his hands up to his face like he was blocking a punch; Lauren reared back. Brandi and her friends let out a series of huffs and giggles and head shakes.

  “Oh,” Fly said, a little more tenderly. “I see, I see. Y’all were here to buy the boots. Who are the boots for, homegirl here, or you?”

  Donald didn’t dare open his mouth; Lauren squeezed his hand in hopes that it would calm him. Hold on, Donald, she said to herself. It’ll be over soon, hopefully without us being carried out on a stretcher.

  “Like I was saying,” Brandi said, turning serious again. “I’m beginning to think Jermaine could teach your family a thing or two about class and how to be legit.”

  Lauren’s eyes narrowed to slits.

  “What, you didn’t know?” Brandi asked. She leaned in some more. “Yeah, Rodney may have been the wild child, but Jermaine is The One. While y’all are spending Altimus’s dirty money, he’s getting the grades, scoring the points on the court, working with the kids, taking care of his mom, and doing the right thing—trying to be somebody special. No, matter of fact, he is special—to all of us.”

  “And what makes you think he’s not special to me?” Lauren insisted, albeit with a tone much less threatening.

  Brandi’s friends groaned; she sucked her teeth. “If he’s so special, why you locking fingers with ole Armani boy, here?” Ki’anna asked.

  “He must be some kind of prince of Buckhead or something,” Lisa chimed in.

  “But, you know what?” Brandi said. “Jermaine is our prince, and we’re tired of girls like you coming around and slumming it with thugs to get mommy and daddy mad, and then going back to your big houses and your cozy little lives up under the people who forgot where they came from and ain’t interested in doing anything but staying clear of the hood. Jermaine is ours.”

  “Look, I don’t want any trouble,” Lauren said. “Jermaine is my friend, too.”

  “Did. I. Stutter?” Brandi said, getting in Lauren’s face.

  “Excuse me, you’re going to have to take this somewhere else,” said one of the saleswomen, cautiously creeping up on the group. The walkie-talkie in her hand squawked; a deep male voice warned that security was on the way.

  Mortified, Lauren raised her hands in mock surrender. “No, no, we were on our way out—it’s okay,” she told the woman.

  “Yeah, so are we,” Ki’anna said.

  “Not without paying for that,” the saleswoman snapped, pointing at the lime-green sweat suit Brandi was rocking.

  “Yeah, we’re gonna take that—and all that other stuff she tried on, too,” Fly said, whipping his finger in the air. He pulled out a wad of cash like he was going to hit the saleswoman off right there at the door.

  “You’re going to have to come to the cash register with the clothes so that I can ring them up,” she said.

  “Okay, Lauren, let’s head for the car—don’t want to miss that appointment, right?” Donald grinned nervously.

  “Yeah, see you around—but not in the West End, correct?” Brandi said through clenched teeth.

  Lauren simply turned on her heel and grabbed Donald’s hand.

  “Oh, and tell your Uncle Larry the crew said what up,” Fly said.

  Uncle Larry? Lauren asked herself. What the…

  Before Lauren could begin to consider how Fly knew her uncle, Donald snatched her arm and practically dragged her out of the store. “Come on, dammit,” he said, looking over his shoulder wildly. “Are you waiting for them to tear us from limb to limb?”

  “Donald, I’m gonna need you to calm down,” Lauren said, doing her best to walk fast, despite her sore toes.

  “We could go to the valet and get the car and skedaddle, but I’m afraid they might catch up to us there. I think we should make a break for one of the restaurants.”

  “They may be heading to dinner after the big Juicy splurge,” Lauren said, hobbling alongside Donald as best she could.

  “Right. My guess is they’ll be grubbing at Johnny Rockets or Chik-fil-A,” Donald deadpanned. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his iPhone. “We should head over to TWIST. I’ll give my uncle a heads-up to let his staff know not to let anyone who looks like they’re from the set of Menace II Society through the front door.”

  “And what if they’
re still here when we leave?” Lauren asked nervously.

  “Good point,” Donald acknowledged. He thought for a moment. “Okay, I’ll have my uncle send a car that’ll meet us out back. We can have some tapas and a cocktail and head out before they figure out we disappeared.”

  “Wait,” Lauren said, stopping short. “Not another step.” She braced herself on Donald’s arm while she snatched off her Louboutins. Under any other circumstance, Lauren would never have run barefoot anywhere but the beach. However, desperate times called for desperate measures. The stilettos were dangling from her fingers when she and Donald rushed to a waiting booth in a quiet corner toward the back of the dining room. Almost as quickly as they were seated, their waiter brought over steaming plates of the roasted herb gnocchi, the crispy calamari, the beef-and-olive empanadas, and two miniburgers.

  “I’ll have the peach martini,” Donald said nonchalantly, like he’d been ordering liquor for years.

  Lauren gave him the side-eye. “I’ll have a Sprite, thanks.”

  “Look, sweetie, I just almost got my behind whipped in the middle of Phipps Plaza, like we were walking through Greenbriar Mall. I have never.”

  “I know, I’m still shaking,” Lauren said. “Every time I run into that girl, she comes this close to stomping me to a pulp,” she added, holding her thumb and pointer finger together. “I just can’t figure out what about her makes me such a punk. I mean, I stared her down and gave her a piece of my mind once, but…”

  “But she’s, like, a foot taller and from the West End—no need to explain,” Donald said.

  “Yeah, but I don’t usually back down for anyone. And then I run into Brandi, and all of a sudden I’m ready to scream like a little girl. I can’t call that.”

  “The question is, why do you keep running into her?” Donald asked.

  “What do you mean? She lives in the West End, near Jermaine. They hang out in the same places…”

  “Yeah, but if you didn’t go see Jermaine, you wouldn’t have to deal with the cast of New Jack City. Aren’t you tired of her? I mean, really, is Jermaine worth all of this?”

  “He’s a good guy,” Lauren said weakly.

  “Yeah, but good enough for you that you can take the beat down from his friends and yours, too?”

  Lauren thought about how she ditched him after dance squad practice rather than introduce him to her girls. Remembering the look on his face made her stomach queasy.

  “I like him a lot, Donald—the first guy in a long time that I’ve even remotely considered calling my boyfriend,” she said. “Well, the first one who really is my boyfriend. You don’t count.”

  Donald laughed and took a bite of his empanada.

  “I think he’s worth fighting for,” she added.

  “Uh-huh—but is he worth getting your ass kicked for—that’s the question,” Donald said, barely letting his martini hit the table before he took a sip. He swallowed hard and took another sip. “Altimus and Keisha can’t stand him, your father is in jail because of him—well, kinda—and the first and last time any of our friends peeped him, he was running through your lake house like an escaped convict. I’m just trying to figure out what you’re hanging on to, because at this point the only connections y’all got are a couple of kisses, a funeral, and bail money.”

  “Wow, you just took a left and went all the way there, huh?”

  “Donald is always going to tell the truth, baby,” he smirked, popping a piece of calamari into his mouth.

  “Yeah, I guess that’s why I keep you around,” Lauren laughed. “You’d be the perfect boyfriend for me. I need to figure out how to bump off Sexy Lexy.”

  “Oh, please, not until after Christmas,” Donald cooed. “I’m looking forward to my thank-you after I get him those shades. I guess I’m going to have to make it back over here to get those, huh?”

  “You can go back out there if you want to,” Lauren started.

  “Nah, I’m just fine right here with my girl and my snacks and my drinks, thank you,” Donald laughed. “You couldn’t pay me to go back out there—not today, not now.”

  “I feel you on that one, fo’ sho’,” she said. “Fo’ sho’.”

  13

  SYDNEY

  “Okay, I am so torn right now,” Rhea grumbled from the oversized massage chair on Sydney’s right-hand side. She slammed closed the copy of The Vow that she was reading.

  “What’s wrong, Rhea?” Carmen asked as she placed a copy of Essence on her lap and leaned forward from her own seat to look at her friend with concern.

  “You know my indecisive ass is still debating which dress to wear tonight. And I just realized that I have to make my decision before she puts on my polish,” Rhea said with a splash of her foot in the bubbling aqua-colored whirlpool. “If I go with the sparkly dark blue that I saw in CosmoGIRL!, I might be doing too much with the magenta Richard Tyler strapless. But if I do the neutral, flesh-tone pink, it’ll be a wash against the crimson Armani full length.”

  “Hmm,” Sydney murmured as she envisioned the two dresses Rhea had purchased for the night’s highly anticipated event. Although the two dresses were completely different styles, her BFF looked absolutely hot in both choices. So she totally understood the dilemma.

  “Personally, I think a Sadie Hawkins deserves a little flash. I mean, how often do the girls get to choose their dates, right?” Carmen questioned, picking up her magazine again. “Go with the hot pink,” she voted as her nail technician gently massaged the soles of her feet with the sweet almond-scented lotion.

  “Wait a sec, what color suit is Tim wearing? That might help,” Sydney said as she lifted her feet out of the water so that her own technician could begin trimming her nails and cuticles.

  “Square or round?” the cute Hispanic woman asked before she began clipping away.

  “Square with rounded sides, please,” Sydney replied absentmindedly.

  “He’s wearing a dark gray Hugo Boss suit,” Rhea said. “We picked it out together about two weeks ago.”

  “In that case, definitely go with the hot pink,” Sydney stated authoritatively.

  “Are you guys sure?”

  “Absolutely,” chirped Carmen. “Hot pink with great makeup and hair and a neutral nail is the only way to go.”

  Sydney nodded affirmatively. “If you’re totally married to a dark nail, I think I saw this amazing dark-silver Chanel polish in the last issue of Elle UK.” She tried not to wiggle her toes as she thought about her own dress for the night. Originally, she wanted to go with a gray three-quarter-length halter dress she found in Bloomie’s, but on second thought, she realized that the gray would clash with her bracelet, so she switched up to a golden Elie Saab number that she found on the pages of last month’s Vanity Fair. With a sparkling natural-colored sheer overlay on top of the nude-colored silk, the one-shouldered beauty made Sydney look like she was wearing a cluster of stars. She couldn’t wait for Jason to see her later that night.

  “Done, done, and done,” Rhea said, finally closing the case on her clothing dilemma. “Excuse me,” she said, leaning forward toward the blond-haired woman working on her feet. “Can you please see if you guys have a dark-silver Chanel polish?”

  “I know just the one you’re thinking about,” the woman confirmed with a crooked smile. “I’ll be right back.”

  “See, everything worked itself out,” Carmen mused as she handed Sydney the copy of Essence and picked up the issue of In Touch she had stashed at her side.

  “Thank you very much,” Sydney said as she immediately flipped to the cover story on Raven-Symoné.

  Rhea’s nail technician returned and handed the bottle to Rhea for her approval. “So did I tell you guys that Tim’s older brother booked him a huge suite in the Ritz-Carlton downtown?” Rhea asked casually as she handed the bottle back to the blond woman with an approving nod.

  “What?” Carmen almost dropped her magazine in the tub.

  Sydney’s head snapped toward her best frien
d. “Are you serious? You’re going to spend the night at the Ritz with Tim? Omigod, you guys have only been dating for, like, two seconds,” Sydney blurted out.

  “Relax, you two.” Rhea laughed at her friends’ scandalous assumptions. “He’s totally throwing an after party there, that’s all. There’s no way in the world my mom would let me spend the night out with some boy I just met.”

  Sydney released an audible sigh of relief. “Thank God! For a second, I thought we were going to have to call your parents and stage a bootleg A&E Intervention.”

  “Don’t ever play like that again,” Carmen warned. “Or I might lock your fast butt up in a closet until you get married!”

  “No need to worry about me and Tim just yet,” Rhea laughed briefly. “He’s still trying to figure out how to get to second base without getting his little feelings hurt.” All three of the girls groaned in sympathy. Then she sobered up and looked at her friends. “But what about you? Carm, you’ve been dating Michael for almost four months. And Sydney’s got the new golden handcuff. I know you guys have at least talked about it with your boyfriends.”

  What an appropriate description, Sydney thought as she looked down at her bracelet and remembered Jason’s cryptic words, “nothing in life is really free.” Although they’d engaged in some pretty intense kissing sessions, so far Jason had been a total gentleman. But at the rate the relationship was going, she wondered how long that would last.

  “Obviously, we’ve talked about it,” Carmen admitted. “And yes, nosey, we’ve made it past second base. But he’s really good about waiting until I’m comfortable trying anything more. Although, honestly, every time I look at Dara, I move further and further away from ever being ready. Who really wants to be a statistic?”

  “You’re so right,” Rhea nodded. “I mean, my mom totally took me to the GYN right after I turned sixteen just to get my first checkup, but that certainly wasn’t the wildout pass. She was very clear that I had to respect my body because no one else was going to do it for me.”

  “Things between Jason and me are definitely intense,” Sydney said. “But I’m not ready to make that move. Bracelet or no bracelet, I don’t want to rush into anything that I can’t get out of, you know?”