by Amir Abrams
“Who?”
I suck my teeth. “You know, Chantel.”
She shrugs. “Oh. Uh-uh. Not that I know of.” She laughs. “Omigod, you so wrong for callin’ her that, though. Flat-back? Really?”
“Well, that’s what she is. All boobs ’n’ no booty. Girl, you know I ain’t messy, but, uh, I get so sick of seein’ her pants all sucked up in her crack. She needs her azz beat for comin’ outta the house tryna rock tight jeans. That girl has a nasty case of suction. Isn’t that some kinda disease?”
Miesha cracks up laughing. “Omigod, you know you not right for that.”
“Mmph. But am I wrong? Anyway, didn’t Tone mess with her, too?”
She twists her face up. “Mess with who? Chantel? Girl, boom. Who ’n’ what Antonio did before me is not my concern. Trust. But no. She played head doctor, once. That’s about it.”
“Ole jizz guzzler,” I say, turning my nose up. “Nasty dome gobbler. I heard she stayed with her face pressed down in some boy’s crotch.”
“Umm,” she says, twirling a finger at me. “You know, that’s what they say about you, too.”
My eyes pop open. “Ooh, lies ’n’ falsifications, girl! Boom, boom! Don’t do me. I don’t know where you heard that mess from, but take it back to the lab, boo. I’m many things. Trust. But a lollipop licker ain’t ever been one of ’em. My mouth doesn’t go anywhere south.”
She starts laughing. “Girl, you know you be drankin’ that watermelon.”
I laugh, waving her on. “Oh, okay, Beeeeyoncé. Think what you want. But Fiona ain’t putting her mouth on nothin’, boo. And she ain’t down on her knees slurpin’ seeds all willy nilly. Trust.”
She cracks up laughing.
I pick at my tuna salad, scooping a forkful into my mouth. I spot ole messy Quanda at one of the tables across the room ’n’ roll my eyes.
“What?” Miesha asks, looking in the direction of my glare. “Oh.” She keeps laughing, shaking her head. “What that chick do now?”
“Girl, that trick tried to do me the other day ’cause she saw me walkin’ down the hall hugged up with Pauley.”
She shakes her head. “What, she tried to go with the hands?”
“Yeah, right. Picture that. Ooh, I wish she woulda tried it. Please, boo. Please do. All talk. Trust.”
Miesha asks what Pauley said when all this was going down with Quanda.
“Not one damn thing. That punk stood there lookin’ all goofy ’n’ ish.”
“Mmph. I knew he was soft as cotton.”
“Yeah, but he’s hard as brick ’n’ steel in all the right places,” I say, thinking back to our night of naked Twister down in his basement. I shudder. “What a waste.”
She sucks her teeth. “Umm, you do know that there’s more to a boy than his sex, right?”
“Ohhhhh-emmmmmm-geeeee! Now you sound like my sister Leona.”
“Well, it’s true.”
I give her a blank look. “Like what? Do tell.”
But before she can explain to me what more a boy has to offer other than sex, Antonio ’n’ Cease are headed our way. “Ooh, here they come now,” she says all excited ’n’ whatnot, like I’m supposed to be all grins ’n’ giggles about one of the school’s biggest man-whores tryna check for me.
No ma’am, no sir. Not interested. I stand up.
“Wait. Where you going?” she wants to know. I tell her to the computer lab to finish typing an English paper. “Ooh, lies! Don’t even try it. Since when you start going to the computer lab?”
“Since today.”
She starts laughing as Antonio ’n’ Cease walk over.
“Hey, Tone,” I say.
“Wassup, Fee? How you?”
“I’m good.” I eye him as he leans in ’n’ kisses Miesha on the lips.
“How’s my sexy babe doin’?”
She blushes. “Better now.”
I roll my eyes.
“Yo, what’s goodie, My?” Cease says to her. She speaks back. Tells him nothing much. He turns his attention to me. “Oh, so you not speakin’?”
I flick him a wave. “Hey, Cease.”
“Oh, so it’s like that?” he says, eyeing me. “Why you act like you ain’t see me earlier? You just gonna play me to the left like that when all I’m tryna do is give you my heart?”
“Boy, bye. You play too much.”
“Nah, I’m serious. Be my valentine.”
I suck my teeth. “Valentine’s Day was last month, fool.”
“Nah, baby. E’eryday’s V-Day when you’re around.”
“And the answer is still no.”
Miesha gives me the eye.
“Oh, word? That’s how you doin’ it?” He spreads open his arms. “A brotha can’t get no love? I mean, damn. Can I at least get a hug, then?”
Before I can tell him hell no, he grabs me up in a big hug, grinning all crazy. “Damn, you smell good, girl.”
Mmph. Of course I do, boo. Thought you knew.
He sniffs me. “Whew. You got me goin’ through it, yo. I wanna lick ya neck.”
Miesha giggles.
Antonio laughs. “Yo, Cease, man. You wildin’, yo.”
I roll my eyes. “Whatever, Cease. Where’s ya lil girlfriend?”
“Girlfriend? Nah. I don’t have one of those, yet. But maybe if you act right I’ll make you my girl.”
I step outta his embrace. “Boy, bye! Not interested.” I glance over at Miesha ’n’ Antonio as I’m grabbing my tray. “All right, lovebirds, peace out. I’m outta here.”
“Oh, word? A’ight then,” Antonio says, eyeing Cease.
“You need a ride after school?” Miesha wants to know, easing her arm from around her boo-daddy’s neck. I tell her no. Tell her my sister Sonji is picking me up ’n’ taking me to the mall to go shopping right after school.
I try not to look over at Cease, but I can feel the heat of his gaze on me. I pop my lips ’n’ toss my hair. Get ya look on, boo!
“Ooh, I so hate you right now,” Miesha says. “Weren’t you just out with your other sister, like yesterday, shopping?”
I laugh. “No. We only went to the spa to get facials ’n’ mani-pedis. And that was two days ago.”
“So. I’m still jelly.”
Antonio pulls Miesha into his arms ’n’ kisses her on the side of her head. “You ain’t gotta be jelly, babe. You know ya daddy got you. I’ma take you to get ya feet done on Saturday, a’ight.”
She grins. “And my hands?”
He laughs. “No doubt.” He takes her hand in his ’n’ turns it over, then kisses her palm. “Yo, my baby got them soft hands.” Miesha giggles.
Ugh. These two are sickeningly in love with each other.
“Yo, let me see them pretty toes, Fee,” Cease says, licking his lips. He’s seated at the table, plucking a sweet potato fry from off Miesha’s half-eaten tray of food. “You know I gotta foot fetish, right?”
I smirk. “How cute.”
“I’m sayin’, though”—he lowers his voice—“when we gonna chill? Me ’n’ you?”
I roll my eyes. “Never, boo.” I toss up two fingers. “Deuces. I’m out.”
“Yo, Fiona?” Cease calls out.
I glance over my shoulder. “Yesss?”
“C’mere for a sec.”
I suck my teeth ’n’ stalk back over to him, popping my hips real hard ’n’ fast, making sure everything shakes for all to see.
“What is it?”
“Let me get some sugar, yo.”
I frown. “What, a kiss?”
He grins.
“Are you serious? Right here?”
“Yeah. Right here. I dare you.”
Miesha ’n’ Antonio look on, both with silly grins on their faces.
“Okay,” I say. Cease puckers up those sexy lips of his. I lick my lips real slow ’n’ sexy-like for him. Then lean in as if I’m about to take him up on it. But instead I take my fingers ’n’ pluck his lips, just enough to sting.
“O
ww! See, you playin’, right?”
“Bye, Cease.” I shake my head, shoulder my bag, spin on my heel, ’n’ head off to class, way before the bell rings, with my booty bouncing ’n’ a sly grin plastered on my face.
16
“Fiona!”
I quickly slide the earbuds to my iPod into my ears ’n’ ig her.
“Fiona!”
I start singing all loud ’n’ off-key to an Ariana Grande song.
“Fiona!” She bangs her hand on the foot of my bed.
I snap my fingers, continuing to sing “The Way.” Pretend to be oblivious to her presence.
She stands in front of me. Hand on hip. Face extra tight. “Fiona! You hear me talking to you, girl!”
I suck my teeth, looking up from my notebook at her, pulling an earbud out. “What?”
“Don’t what me. Why aren’t those dishes done?”
I give her a blank stare. Really? Is she frickin’ kidding me?
I take a deep breath. “I’ll do them in a minute. Why are you even here?”
“I’m getting ready to leave for work. Don’t leave up outta this house, either. You think I don’t know what you be doing when I’m not here.”
I huff. “And what is it you think I’m doing, huh?”
She glares at me. “Don’t try me, girl. You either got some boy running in ’n’ outta here, or you sneaking up outta here all hours of the night. And just because I haven’t said anything, don’t think I don’t know about that boy you had climbing up outta your bedroom window two months ago.”
I blink. How’d she know about that? Then it dawns on me that Miss Pitney next door musta had her ole nosy butt all up in my business. Ole messy heffa! She stays minding somebody else’s business. She swears she’s the Neighborhood Watch.
I frown. “Tell your spies to get it right. I don’t sneak out. I walk out through the front door, then walk right back in the same way. I’m not climbing outta windows or tiptoein’ out the door ’n’ duckin’ down in trees to get in or out.”
“Well, I don’t want you sneaking no damn boys in or outta here either. It’s not right.”
“That was one time,” I say nonchalantly. Like get over it. No big deal. But what I really wanna say is, Why you care? Maybe you should try gettin’ you some.
“And who was that boy you had leaving up outta here the other night?”
I frown. “A friend.”
She twists her lips. “Uh-huh. Well, it’s still downright disrespectful.”
I take a deep breath. “Okay, whatever you say.”
“Yeah. I know it’s whatever I say. All this trampin’ you doin’ needs to stop.”
I give her a blank stare. “Not to be rude. But, um, can I help you? I’m tryna study.”
She plants both of her hands up on her hips. Her jaw set tight. Her nose flares. I can tell she’s counting in her head. I ease up just in case she’s thinking about jumping on me.
“Fiona. No boys in this house, you understand? And I want those dishes done. I shouldn’t have to keep tellin’ you the same thing over ’n’ over again.”
Then stop doing it! Now get the heck outta my room!
I huff. “Okay, dang. I heard you. No boys. Do the dishes. Bye.”
She lunges at me ’n’ swings an arm. But I’m too quick for the big girl. I jump up off the bed outta her reach.
“I’m sick of you, girl! I can’t wait to toss ya slick-mouth azz outta here the minute you turn eighteen. You not gonna keep disrespectin’ me like you do, girl.”
“Good day, ma’am,” I say, flicking a dismissive wave at her. “Please ’n’ thank you.” She keeps talking all sideways ’n’ crazy ’bout how she’s gonna end up knocking my teeth down my throat. But I’m not really hearing her. I keep saying, “Good day, ma’am. Please ’n’ thank you. Good day, ma’am. Please ’n’ thank you.”
I know y’all think I’m disrespectful to her. But I don’t care! You have no idea what she’s put me through over the years. So what you see is the best I can do. I don’t wanna relive the past, so I’m not tryna go there ’n’ bring it up.
She stares me down.
I stare right back at her. Tilt my head.
But I know today’s stare-down won’t be long ’cause she has to leave for work, like now.
“Did you cook?” I ask, knowing the answer already. No.
She narrows her gaze. “No, I didn’t cook. What I look like, slavin’ over a damn stove for some disrespecting girl who already thinks she’s grown? You know how to cook. You wanna eat, then get in there ’n’ cook it ya damn self.”
I fold my arms. “I need money to order something.”
She smirks. “Oh, really? Ha! Like ya fresh mouth always tells me: Girl, bye. Miss me with that. You better eat what’s down in that refrigerator or you just don’t eat.”
With that said, she’s out the door, her hips ’n’ big booty angrily bouncin’ ’n’ shakin’ with each step. My door slams shut.
I suck my teeth, fishing through my handbag. Lady, boom! I didn’t need ya lil change anyway. I stay with my own coins, boo. Boom! I just wanted to see what you were gonna say.
I snatch up my cell ’n’ call Travis’s big-head self. He picks up on the third ring. “Yo, waddup?”
“Bring me something to eat, boo-daddy.”
He laughs. “Oh, word? Now a nucca ya boo-daddy, huh?”
“Oh, boy, stop. You know you always gonna be my lil boo-daddy.”
Lies!
“Yeah, a’ight. That’s what ya mouth says. But I couldn’t get no love the other day, right?”
“Boy, bye. Are you gonna feed me or what?”
“What I’ma get, huh?”
How ’bout ya face slapped?
I roll my eyes up in my head so hard I almost make myself dizzy. “What you want, boo?”
I can practically see him lickin’ his lips ’n’ grinnin’ through the phone. “You already know.”
I purse my lips. “I want a chicken cheesesteak with fries. And I want it nice ’n’ hot.”
“Yeah, a’ight. And I want that thang-thang or that mouth nice ’n’ hot, too.”
Yeah, ohhhhkay. Not!
“Okay. I got you, boo-daaaady. What time you gonna get here?” He tells me in about two hours. Maybe less. That he’s watching his lil brother until his moms gets back from the store. Like I really need to know all that. Just bring me my dang food. I shake my head. I already know his two hours or less really means like in four hours. I could be dead from starvation by then. I don’t think so. “Okay. I’ll see you when you get here.”
“Yeah, a’ight. Wear that lil sexy see-through jump-off I like. The red one.”
Boy, bye!
“Okay, boo-daddy.” I disconnect. And dial up King.
“Wassup, baby? How you?”
“I’m good,” I coo into the phone, lying on my stomach. I bend my legs up ’n’ cross my ankles, twirling a lock of my hair. “I been thinkin’ about you.”
“Oh, word? That’s wasssup.”
Yeah. I’ve been thinking about you bringing me some food.
I moan. “Mm-hmm. I can’t stop thinkin’ about you. Do you have classes tonight?”
“Nah. Why, wasssup? You tryna chill?”
Not really. Not with you ’n’ all that spit you got goin’ on. “You already know I am.”
“That’s wasssup, babe. I been thinkin’ about you, too.”
Uh-huh. I bet you have.
“Can you bring me something to eat when you come?”
“Yeah. I got you. What you want?”
Ooh, I know you do, boo. Bless ya lil slobberin’ soul. I tell him Chinese—garlic shrimp ’n’ steamed broccoli with brown rice—from the spot downtown.
“A’ight. I’ll be over in like an hour.”
I smile. Then end the call. Boom! This diva will never go hungry. But if either one of them fools think I’ma serve ’em up a dish of this warm goodness, they have another think coming. I don’t trick for Meals on
Wheels, honey-boo.
No, ma’am.
17
“Yo, that was real foul how you played me last night,” Travis says the next morning, walking up to me in the hallway as I’m standing here talking to this dang girl Alicia about our English assignment. “But you got that off, yo.”
I tell Alicia I’ll catch her in class.
She rolls her eyes. “And you do know this project is due next week, right?”
I blink. “Yeah, and?”
“You know what?” She throws her hands up. “I can’t. If we fail, we fail.”
“Boo-boo. Be clear. Fiona doesn’t fail. So you can miss me with that.”
“Yeah, whatever.” She spins off ’n’ I bring my attention to Travis. He’s standing here showing off his muscled chest in a tight-fitting Hollister T-shirt. I glance down at the half-sleeve tattoo on his right arm, then meet his gaze.
“Now what were you sayin’, lil daddy?”
“Nah, don’t lil daddy me, yo. That stunt you pulled was mad foul, yo.”
“Boy, bye. Get over it or move along.”
He’s still hot at the fact that I opened the door last night when he showed up all late ’n’ crazy at like almost midnight. Oh noo, boo-boo. You not even about to make Miss Fiona sit ’n’ wait on you. A diva sits ’n’ waits on no one. Not even some boy who’s bringing you a hot meal. No, ma’am. She always has a plan A, B, ’n’ C.
So when he finally decided to show up, I snatched the bag of food outta his hand, then slammed the door in his stank face. Midnight? Really? When I called ya black behind at like four o’clock. And you show up ringing my door at midnight? Twelve hours wrong! Oh no, boo-boo. The carriage has already turned back into a pumpkin ’n’ this Cinderella is already being entertained ’n’ fed by someone else.
I laugh. “Well, at least I came to the door in that red nightie you like. And I texted you a thank-you, didn’t I?”
He sucks his teeth. “Yeah, whatever, yo. You owe me nine dollars.”
I wave him on. “Let me know how you make out with that.”
“Whatever, man. But it’s all good. You probably needed it more than me.”
I stop in my tracks. Neck cocked, one hand slung up on my hip, the other sliding down into my bag, yanking out my wallet. “Oh no, don’t get it effed up, boo. Fiona doesn’t need a boy for jack. Trust. You want ya lil change back? Here”—I toss him a ten-dollar bill—“have at it. One thing I’m not is some charity case.”