Diva Rules

by Amir Abrams

  “It’s all good, though. She knows how I get down.”

  I frown, then start popping my gum real loud ’n’ crazy. Click-clack, clickety-clack-clack! “Oh really? And how is that? Not that I’m really interested.”

  This ninja has the audacity to part his crusty crumb-lickers ’n’ say he has nine kids ’n’ five baby mothers. “And you so fine, I might make you baby mother number six.”

  Hand on hip, face twisted, neck rolling, I give it to him real good. “Whoop, whoop. Blow the whistle. Who let the clown out? You better go hop back in ya box ’cause this fly chick over here is not interested in nothin’ you dishin’ out. You better go get those teeth together. I don’t do raggedy grills, boo. No, sir. Good day.”

  “Daayuuumn, it’s like that? Yeah, I know my teeth effed up. But I got a big—”

  “Talk to the hand, boo-boo. I’m out.” I spin off on him, popping my hips through the crowd, running smack into Miesha, Tone, aaaand Cease.

  Cease?

  What the heck is he doing here?

  “Yo, what’s goodie, Fiona?” Tone says, wrapping an arm around Miesha.

  “Oh, nothin’. Standing here mad long waitin’ on ya girl, lookin’ all crazy tryna beat off the predators.”

  He laughs.

  “Aah, what’s good, Fee,” Cease says, grinning.

  I toss a hand up at him. Keep it real easy. “Hey.”

  “Can I get a hug, yo?”

  “Uh, I guess.” I step into his embrace. “I didn’t know you were gonna be here.” I shoot a look over at Miesha. She gives me some ole sheepish look. But I give her a dirty look that says Tramp, I’ma claw ya eyes out.

  This heifer coulda told me Cease was gonna be tagging along.

  23

  “Sooo, who’s ready to bowl?” Miesha says, rubbing her hands together.

  “Yo, you know I’m ready,” Antonio says.

  Cease glances at me. “And you know I stay ready. What about you, babe?”

  I tilt my head. “Trust. I’m always ready.”

  Lies ’n’ fabrications. The only thing I’m ready to do is hit the door. But oh well. I’m here. He’s here. So I might as well make the best of it. It’s really no biggie. But trust. I can’t wait to get Miss Miesha together when I get her alone. She thinks she’s so dang slick.

  “Okay, so it’ll be me ’n’ Fiona against you ’n’ Cease,” Miesha says, dodging my daggers. “Losers pay for our food. Okay?”

  “Bet,” Tone says.

  “Yo, hol’ up, fam,” Cease says, shaking his head. “Who said y’all gonna win?”

  Miesha puts a hand up on her hip. Then finger snaps. “Oh, trust, boo-boo. We about to do this.”

  Cease laughs, giving Tone dap. “Yo, tell ’em, son. We ’bout to run this.”

  “Boy, bye! Me ’n’ my girl, we got this. We rock. We rule. We gonna run ya pockets. Ain’t that right, Fee?”

  I blink. Ooh, why is she poppin’ ish? Ummm, does this chick not know I’m the queen of gutter balls? Well, I guess not. But she’s gonna learn today.

  She must peep the blank look on my face. She raises a brow. “Bish, you can bowl, right?”

  “Uh-huh, straight down the gutter.”

  Miesha’s face cracks. “Oh, just frickin’ priceless! Let’s go get our damn shoes so we can hurry up ’n’ lose!”

  Cease ’n’ Tone crack up laughing, following her over to the counter. I drag along in back of them.

  “Oh, it’s on now,” Cease teases. “Yo, y’all ’bout to get got.”

  “Word is bond,” Tone cosigns. “I hope y’all got ya paper up ’cause you got two hungry ninjas on deck.”

  Cease looks over at me ’n’ winks.

  I roll my eyes, sucking my teeth. Boy, boom! I’m not even tryna feed ya ole big, thick-necked, biscuit-eating butt.

  Miesha wags a finger at me. “I see you, girl.”

  I feign ignorance. “You see what?”

  “Ooh, don’t do it, boo. Wipe the drool from ya lips. Tryna act like you ain’t checkin’ for Cease. Girl, bye. I see you checkin’ him on the low-low when he goes up to bowl.” She cracks up laughing. “You ain’t slick, boo.”

  I roll my eyes ’n’ suck my teeth. “Girl, bye. I’m not hardly checkin’ for that boy like that.”

  “Ooh, lies, lies, ’n’ more lies!”

  I laugh with her, crossing my legs. Truth is, I have been eyeing him on the low-low. Heck, he’s cute. He has a nice body. And okay, okay. He has a really nice butt. Shoot me for looking. I’m a girl. That’s what we do. Look. Besides, it’s not like there are any other boys worth looking at here tonight. And I’m not even about to sit here ’n’ be staring at Antonio Lopez. Although, yes, he is fiiiine ’n’ real eye candy, but that’s Miesha’s man. And I don’t believe in being messy. No, ma’am.

  “Okay, busted. But you see all them muscles, girl?”

  She shakes her head, laughing. “Nope. I only have eyes for my boo.”

  “Girl, bye. You can still look.”

  She giggles. “Well, I ain’t lookin’ hard, trust. But, yeah, I peeped ’em. How can you not? Now tell me you didn’t like our double date.”

  I cough. “Double date? Girlie, this ain’t no damn double nothing. All this is, is a situation that you created.”

  She waves me on. “Girl, bye. Call it what you want. You can thank me in the morning.” She chuckles.

  “Girl, please. Middle finger up.”

  “Uh-huh. Lies, lies, ’n’ more lies! I peeped how the two of you been tossing glances at each other all night. You know he’s feelin’ you, girl. And it’s obvious you feelin’ him, too.”

  I fold my arms across my chest ’n’ toot my lips. “I don’t know what you talkin’ about, boo.”

  She laughs some more.

  I see Antonio walking over to us with Miesha’s food order. Nooo, we didn’t win. But after I was finally able to get the hang of it, me ’n’ Miesha spanked ’em silly. Three games later. Ha! Okay, okay, so what if my legs flew out in front of me, twice, ’n’ I landed on my butt. Or that I bowled backwards most of the game. Or that my feet are real sweaty in these funky bowling flats, uh, shoes. Or that Miesha ’n’ them have done nothing but laugh at me most of the night. Fact is, we still got a win.

  Yeah, Antonio ’n’ Cease beat us, bad, the first two frames. But they still paid for our food. Mmph. What I look like, tryna spend my coins on some boy. Not! They were probably gonna pay anyway. But just in case they weren’t. Let it be known, Fiona Madison ain’t the one.

  “Yo, what y’all over here gigglin’ ’bout?” Antonio wants to know, handing Miesha her food.

  “Ohhh, nothing,” she says, smirking as she reaches for her food. “Thanks, babe.”

  “You know I got you, boo.” He leans in ’n’ kisses her. Ugh! These two are sickening! “So who y’all laughin’ at?”

  She shakes her head. “Just girl stuff.” I peep her cutting her eye real quick over at Cease as he walks over, then back over at Tone, signaling to him that we were talking about Cease.

  Tone nods. “Ohh, right, right. I got you.” He grins as Cease hands me my food.

  “Thanks,” I say.

  “No doubt,” he says, taking a seat next to me. All I can do is roll my eyes at Tone ’n’ Miesha. They laugh.

  “Yo, what’s so funny?”

  I suck my teeth. “Don’t pay them two any mind. You know they all drunk in love.”

  “That’s right,” Antonio says, smiling. “This here’s my heart. Ain’t that right, baby?”

  “Yup,” Miesha says. Then she leans in ’n’ kisses her man on the lips. Awww. Not!Imean. Trust. I’m not hating on my girl ’n’ her boo. But, geesh. All that lovey-dovey mess is waaay over-the-top.

  Cease, with his clown self, tries to lean over ’n’ kiss me ’n’ I smack him on the lips with my fork. “Uh-uh, boo-daddy. You better keep them big juicy lips right on over there.”

  Antonio ’n’ Miesha burst out laughing. And me ’n’ Cease join in. Then f
or the rest of the night the four of us sit ’n’ eat ’n’ bug out, then bowl another round. This time with Antonio ’n’ Miesha as partners. So surprise, surprise. That leaves me with Cease. And a few times his ole slick butt calls himself tryna show me how to hold the ball. Chile, cheese. All this boy wants to do is press up on me. I know what time it is. But I let him get his feel on. All in the name of winning the game.

  And guess what?

  I get my first strike!

  “Yes! Yes! Yes!” I scream excitedly. I’m so caught up in seeing all those pins topple over that I don’t even realize that I’ve jumped into Cease’s arms until I come to my senses ’n’ realize my feet are dangling in the air. Ooh, boo-daddy! “Boy, put me down.”

  “You know you wanna be in my arms, girl,” he teases, slowly letting me down. Frankly, I don’t see the need for a comeback. I push back from him ’n’ I toss my hair, sashaying on over back to my seat. I just got a strike. You can’t tell me ish, boo!

  By the end of the tenth frame, I end up bowling a ninety-eight. Yippee! Oh, don’t do me. Yeah, it’s low, but it’s better than my last two scores. Fifties. Mmph. So not cute! But thanks to Cease’s five strikes ’n’ multiple pairs, we beat Miesha ’n’ Tone real right. And that’s all I care about. Winning, boo!

  It’s a little after midnight when we finally pack it in. And I’m not even gonna front, boo. It was cute. Bowling. Okay, and the four of us hanging out. Still, Miesha was dead wrong tryna fix me up with Cease on the low like that.

  “I’m sayin’ though,” Cease says, walking with me to Miesha’s car. He ’n’ I are kinda strolling a few feet behind Miesha ’n’ her boo-daddy. “We should link up tomorrow. I can come scoop you ’n’ we can go somewhere ’n’ chill.”

  I stop in my tracks, raising a brow. “Uh, and why would I wanna do that?”

  “Uh, how ’bout ’cause you had a good time. Or maybe ’cause you feelin’ me.”

  I toss him a dismissive wave, walking off. “Lies! I’m not even about to go anywhere alone with you, boy. Psst. I don’t know you like that. You could be some psycho who preys on young cutie-boos.”

  “Yeah, a’ight.” He walks alongside of me. “Keep it a hunnid. Tell me you didn’t have fun tonight.”

  I shrug. “It was okay.”

  He reaches for my arm, stopping me. “I wanna take you out. No pressure. Just me ’n’ you. Think about it, a’ight?”

  I grin, opening the passenger-side door, then sliding in. “Maybe.”

  He laughs. “Yeah, a’ight. Front if you want. Ain’t no maybe, baby.”

  “Boy, boom. Middle finger up. You better try again.”

  I shut the door in his face.

  24

  Serve ’em grace ’n’ face. Politeness with a smile goes a long way. . .

  Early Monday morning, just as I’m swinging open the front door to walk up the block to Miss Moosey’s to grab me a honey bun ’n’ some Life Savers gummies before Miesha gets here to pick me up, I run smack dead into Cruella. Of all the dang people I wanna see first thing in the morning, she is not one of them. Trust. Her evil spirit is suffocating.

  I take a deep breath. Uh, excuuuuse you . . .

  I haven’t really seen her since our verbal throw-down last week when we tore the kitchen up. And, trust, I’m still lookin’ at her extra sideways for throwing her coffee cup at me. But whatever! She did that. However, since then she’s stayed outta my way. And I’ve happily stayed outta hers. Hey, it works for me. And obviously it works for her, too.

  She scowls. “I hope there are no dishes in my sink.”

  I blink. Well, maybe if you had the dang dishwasher fixed, there wouldn’t need to be any in your sink. “Um, and good mornin’ to you, too,” I say snidely. “Have a nice day.”

  She grunts. “I asked you if you did the dishes.”

  I sigh. “Oh, that was a question? My bad.” I bat my lashes ’n’ toss my hair.

  Her raggedy tote bag hits the floor with a thud as she steps outta her bright white Nikes. I stare at her. She looks exhausted. She has bags under her eyes ’n’ her edges have seen better days. Chickie needs a treatment bad.

  God, she looks so haggard ’n’ run-down. If she would just slide a lil gloss up on them lips ’n’ fluff that dang hair up, maybe she’d get herself a lil boo-daddy to knock the dust up off’a that ole dried up snatch-patch.

  “Girl, what in the world you just standin’ here looking at me for? Is that kitchen cleaned?”

  “Ohmigod! What is with you ’n’ the dang dishes all the time? Is this some kinda fetish? ’Cause if it is, it’s so not cute.”

  “I want you in this house right after school.”

  Screech! What the what? Hold the heck up . . . chickie’s already tryna get it turnt up. It’s too early for this.

  “Excuse you? Since when you start givin’ me a time when I come home?”

  She throws a hand up on her wide hip. “Since I told you that you were on punishment ’n’ you left up outta this house over the weekend anyway.”

  Of course I did.

  “Hahaha. Try again, hun.” I strut toward the door, reaching for the screen door handle. I stop in my tracks, turn to her. Apologize to Mommy. It’s the right thing to do. “Look. I’m sorry if you still feel some kinda way about how I served you.”

  “How you served me? You had better go on ’n’ get outta my face before you get served up in here again.”

  I suck my teeth. “Anyway, I apologize for comin’ at you all crazy like that. But, trust, I will never apologize to you or anyone else for saying how I feel.”

  She narrows her eyes. “Fiona, your sisters have never spoken to me the way you do, ’n’ if they even tried it I woulda knocked every last tooth outta their heads. But you . . .”

  “News feed update, boo. I’m not Leona ’n’ them. And last I heard, you wanted them. Not me. You didn’t call them names, or treat them like crap. And if you did give it to ’em, they kept their mouths shut ’n’ took it. Well, sorry. I’m not that chick.”

  She shakes her head. “I’m tired. I’m tired of looking at you. I’m tired of dealing with you. I’m tired of having to be responsible for you. You’re disrespectful. You’re hateful. And I have no use for you ’n’ that filthy mouth of yours.”

  “And so are you!” I snap, giving her a disgusted look. We stare each other down. I narrow my glare. “You just don’t get it, do you? I am the way I am ’cause of you. You made me this way. And if you haven’t noticed, the only person I’m hateful ’n’ disrespectful to is you.”

  “I’m still your goddamn mother!” she argues. “And the least you could do is respect me!”

  Oh, cry me a dirty river. Here she goes again with that word. Respect. I grunt, glancing at my watch, annoyed that she’s tryna disrupt my morning flow with her foolery. “Respect you? Ha! That’s an oxymoron if I’ve ever heard one. How do you expect me to respect you when all you’ve ever done is remind me of how much you wish you’d never had me, huh?”

  “Lil girl, you got the game all screwed up! You respect me not ’cause you want to. But ’cause I gave birth to you. Because I keep a roof over ya damn ungrateful-azz head! Because I continue to allow you to eat ’n’ sleep in comfort! Because I haven’t snatched you by the neck ’n’ choked out your last damn breath. That’s why you respect me!” She jams a finger into her chest. “Your mother! Now get outta my damn face! I want you in this house by three o’clock! Not a minute after. And I will be up in here to see that you are!”

  Mmph. This chick sounds like she needs another stay at the cuckoo farm if she even thinks I’m subscribing to the nuttiness she’s talking.

  I raise a brow. “Good luck with that.”

  “Try me, lil girl.” She threatens to shut down my phone ’n’ Internet service if I’m not walking through this door at said time.

  My nose flares. I will not be blackmailed, bribed, or threatened by her or anyone else. “Oh no, oh no,” I say, shifting my bag from one arm to the other. “We ar
e not about to do this. Not today, boo. I have too much on my mental for what you sayin’. Check for me later with the threats. Not when I’m on my way out the door to start my school day. Who in the heck needs that kinda stress on them? Where they do that at?”

  “You heard what I said, lil girl.”

  “My name is Fiona,” I say, swinging open the door just as Miesha’s car pulls up in front of the house. “Not lil girl. And the last I checked, being a mother didn’t come with a trophy or a money-back guarantee. I’ll see you when I see you.”

  I politely shut the door in her face, pullin’ out my buzzing Sidekick, my backup phone. The one Cruella doesn’t even know about. Lady, boom. Shut me down if you want. As long as I got T-Mobile on the low-low, I stay ready.

  “Hey, girlie,” Miesha says as I slide into the passenger seat, shutting the door.

  “Hey. Just—one—second,” I say, tapping away with my thumbs. It’s King wanting to know if I wanna chill tonight. I can’t even remember why I gave him this number instead of my other number. But, whatever. I tell him yeah—after eleven though. “Okay, done.” I toss my Sidekick back into my bag, then fasten my seat belt. “Heeeeey, honey-boo. Heeey, sugah-foot.”

  She laughs. “Girl, you silly. So, why you have your face all tight comin’ outta ya house?”

  I suck my teeth, dramatically rolling my eyes. “What else? Cruella.”

  She looks over at me, confused. “Who?”

  “My dang mother.”

  She laughs. “Ohmigod. I can’t believe that’s what you call her.”

  Even though I really haven’t given Miesha all the dirt on how messy my mother is/was, she knows enough to know we don’t get along. That’s all I’ve ever been comfortable sharing with her, or anyone else. The rest of my miserable life, living with that lady, I keep to myself. The last thing I want is pity. Oh no, hun. Fiona ain’t looking for no Hallmark moments. No, thanks.