Hollywood High

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Hollywood High Page 15

by Ni-Ni Simone


  I hesitated. The sound of her voice let me know that I could handle this one of three ways. I could either retreat to being silent and postpone this for two more days, be the sweet sixteen-year-old who batted her eyes and did what Mommy said while being rewarded with a kiss on the forehead and a gift, or two. Or I could throw a tantrum.

  Before I could decide what to do my mother said, “But . . . let me warn you. Watch what you say and watch how you say it.”

  “So you don’t really wanna know how I feel then. You just want me to be mechanical,” I said, knowing I was pushing my luck. “Okay, okay, so I’ll be a robot. I’ll be the sixteen-year-old with no opinion of her own, who only listens to what you tell her to do. Who obeys your rules and gives no backtalk and no drama. Is that okay?”

  “Exactly,” my mother said snidely. “And you will also be the sixteen-year-old who gives me no reasons to even think about slapping her face again or tossing her over the cliff.” She pointed toward the mountains.

  I swallowed. I forgot about the cliff. And bigger than that, I forgot that my mother was crazy enough to knock me over it.

  “Now, I love you,” she continued. “But you will do what I say.”

  “You were never this hard on RJ. He did whatever he wanted to do and still does!”

  “RJ listened. You are caught up in some warped power struggle with your father and me.”

  “No I’m not. I just want to live my life. After all it is my life,” I pouted.

  She chuckled. Looked me over and placed her hand on her hip. “You’ve been misinformed, honey. You have no life, darling. I planned to have you. I gave birth to you. I named you. And I raised you. You are my child and your life is one that I orchestrate. Now you have access to a lot of things: money, trips, diamonds, parties. Things that I could only dream of at your age. And there is no way I’m going to watch you piss it all away behind some broke-down little boy because he’s fine and good in bed!”

  “This has nothing to do with Knox!”

  “This has everything to do with Knox! And lower your damn voice!” She clenched her teeth. “Now you hear me and you hear me well. Everything that feels good to you is not good for you.”

  “See, I told you, you didn’t listen. You didn’t wanna hear what I had to say. You only wanna hear what you wanna hear.”

  She crossed her legs. “Oh, I heard you and I’m listening. I’m just giving you instructions on what to say and how you better say it. Or do you suddenly have nothing to say and are waiting for me to kiss you on your forehead and hand you the diamond Tiffany bracelet that I had your father pick out for you?”

  I glanced over at the bag and then turned back to my mother. “Diamonds aren’t always a daughter’s best friend.”

  “Well it better be chocolate cake then. Because it will not be the offspring of the hired help.”

  “I should be able to make my own decisions!”

  “Are you raising your voice at me? Do you really want to escalate this to another level? Because as long as I cover your bank account, I make your decisions. So here are your choices.” She opened the Tiffany bag and removed a chocolate and pink diamond bangle. “Diamonds or nothing. Now you decide.” She dropped the bangle back into the bag and stood up.

  “Ma—”

  “Be quiet. Because I will have the last word. Now if you want your life to be a living hell, then let me know and I will start the fire roaring.” She stared at me for a few moments and I decided to let it go because it wasn’t worth her drama. Not when I was going to do what I wanted to do anyway.

  I was grown and had always been grown. And she had run my life long enough.

  “Okay, Ma. Whatever you say.”

  She bent down and roughly grabbed my chin. “Now you’re trying to be sarcastic.” She thrust her face into mine and I could smell the morning chai on her breath. “Rich, don’t try me.” She looked me deep in my eyes as if she were trying to burn her message into my soul. “There will be no you and Knox. So you better go run along and find yourself another little love interest because if I even hear that you’re back messing with him again, I will not be as nice as I was this summer. You hear me? And you better say yes.”

  “Yeah, Ma, I hear you.”

  “I said say yes.”

  I paused. Swallowed. I wanted to snatch away and tell her to get out of my face but obviously that wasn’t the safest thing to do. “Yes, Ma.”

  She kissed me on my forehead and said, “That’s more like it. Now your father is off to New York with Turner. They have business to attend to. And I’m headed to Scottsdale. Your auntie and I have a spa appointment. I need to work out some stress.”

  She pointed to the Tiffany bag and smiled. “Diamonds are always a daughter’s best friend.”

  I watched her walk out of my room and slam the door behind her. I picked up the throw pillow in the chair she’d sat in and tossed it toward the door. This was my life!

  When you gon’ let me love you!

  “I can’t!” I screamed at the sound of Knox’s voice that invaded my mind. “But I want to so bad.”

  Skip it. I’m tired of thinking and I can’t sit here like this anymore. I jumped out of my seat, left my half-eaten plate behind and hopped into the shower. The rain spout ran over my body and in mind’s eye all I could see was Knox standing behind me . . . I could feel his hands on my body and...

  Stop it!

  This is crazy!

  Shaking my thoughts, I ended my shower, quickly blow-dried my hair, and left my Chinese bob uncurled and fashionably blunt. I slipped on a pair of tight-fitting and curve-complimenting AG cigarette jeans, a crisp white rhinestone T-shirt from my private collection that read MADE THE HEADLINES TODAY?, a pair of five-inch denim Jimmy Choos, then tossed a soft pink Tori Burch frilly scarf around my neck. I put a pair of pink diamond studs in my ears and clasped my new bangle around my wrist.

  I grabbed my Hermès hobo bag, descended the stairs, and slipped out the side door. I didn’t know where I was headed; all I knew is that I had to get out of Beverly Hills before I lost it. Completely.

  How did I end up here... ?

  I leaned against the doorframe and wondered what I would say to him. And what would he think of me being here. All I knew is what he wanted and what I could give him.

  Which were two different things.

  Maybe I should leave...

  But I wanted to be here. And for now, at least for today, I wanted to pretend that this was right. That there was no mother, no threats, no balancing act of what I felt and what I was told to do. No worry about tomorrow. Tomorrow was too heavy, too much to contend with. In order to follow through with this I had to live in the moment.

  I knocked again, hoping like hell he would hurry and answer before my nerve took flight and I fled.

  I waited a few seconds more, nervously leaned from one foot to the next and bit the inside of my cheek.

  Just leave.

  I turned on my heels and made up my mind to hurry down the hallway but before I could take two scurrying steps he called, “Rich?”

  I turned around and gave him a shy smile. “Oh hey, Knox. Umm yeah, it’s me.” I shrugged. “I, umm, was in the neighborhood.”

  “Oh really?” He folded his arms across his chest; the thin nylon of his Lakers jersey highlighted the muscular definition of his hard pecs. My eyes glazed over his baggy gray sweats and a sly smile swept its way across my face. I quickly tucked my lips in and dropped my eyes to the floor, hoping he couldn’t read my blue thoughts.

  “Long drive just to be in the neighborhood,” he said sarcastically.

  I lifted my eyes. I was so not in the mood for his cynicism but since he wanted to take it there . . . “Not really.” I batted my lashes. “Being as though I usually drive past here. This was a short trip. Trust.”

  “Rich, please. You and I both know that you don’t drive more than five minutes outside of Beverly Hills. Seriously, did you forget who you were talking to?”

  “W
hatever.”

  “Yeah, I got your whatever.”

  Silence.

  “Now, did you come to kick in the hallway or would you like to come in?” he asked.

  I didn’t answer. I simply walked past him and stepped across the carpeted threshold and into his small three-bedroom apartment that was a horrifically messy, royal-purple-and-mustard-gold homage to Knox’s fraternity, Omega Psi Phi.

  There was Que paraphernalia everywhere: wooden plaques on the wall, rugs on the floor, throw covers on the back of a nasty black and white checkered couch—that was clearly a seventies nightmare. And behind the couch was a picture of a bulldog with a giant nametag that read: ATOMIC DOG.

  There were wooden beads that separated the galley kitchen from the compact living room and Bob Marley’s “Jammin’” played loudly. One of Knox’s roommates sat nodding his head—heavy-metal hard—to the music and the other sat with a video game remote in his hands and his eyes on me. He smiled at me but before I could give him the screw face, he looked over to Knox and fell out laughing. “You da man,” he chuckled. “You da damn man, big homie!”

  Knox gave him a sly grin. “It ain’t even like that.”

  “Like what?” I interjected, curious to know what the hell this gooch was laughing at.

  Neither Knox nor his roommate answered me. Instead, Knox’s roommate said to him, “Oh word? Then you need to hook a brotha up.” He looked me over and licked his lips. “They call me Midnight but you can call me all night.”

  Knox’s smile quickly faded. “Yo, play ya game. Come on, Rich.”

  “Don’t be like that. You ’spose to share, Knox!” His roommate cracked up as I walked behind Knox and followed him into his room. “You ’spose to share!”

  “Knox,” I said. “What was he...talking...” I paused. Blinked. “Who is this?” I asked, stopping in my tracks, my eyes quickly zeroed in on the girl who sat on Knox’s bed with her back against the wall. Immediately my mind told me she’d been here for hours.

  Suddenly, I felt played. Smacked across the face. Disrespected. It took everything in me not to lose it.

  I swallowed and I could tell by the look on Knox’s face that he’d read my mind.

  “Rich,” Knox said, locking eyes with me. “This is Nikki. Nikki this is Rich.”

  “I heard so much about you!” Nikki said a little too chipper, flashing her Colgate smile. She stood up and extended her hand.

  I stared at her and instead of quickly dismissing her I was unexpectedly stuck on how pretty she was.

  She had flawless chestnut colored skin, unlike me—who every other month had a bout with acne.

  She had a short and tapered Kelis-inspired haircut; the exact same haircut that I wanted. But, I wasn’t sure if hair that short would look good on me. So I played it safe and settled for a Chinese bob.

  She was petite; I struggled with my weight.

  I couldn’t believe this was happening. And I knew this was silly, and crazy, and made no sense. And of course I remembered the elementary school lesson of never comparing yourself to anyone: “Everyone’s different.”

  Yet and still... I couldn’t help it.

  And yes, I knew I was stunning . . . curvaceous . . . had a dimpled smile . . . eyes the color of light brown marbles... and thick, bouncy, jet-black hair that could be styled effortlessly.

  And yes, I knew I was fierce, and fabulous, and fashionable. Yes, I really did know all of this . . . problem was at this moment I didn’t feel it, because if I did there would be no way that I’d be standing here—feeling as if I held my heart in my hand—and wondering if Knox thought that Nikki was prettier than me.

  This was sickening.

  A steel lump settled in my throat.

  I wished I could place this moment on pause, rewind it, pretend that this never happened, and go back to a time when I thought I was the only one on Knox’s mind. Now I knew I was wrong.

  I turned to Knox. “If I caught you at a bad time I can leave.”

  He looked over at Nikki, who’d dropped her hand back to her side. She smiled at him and said, “No, it’s cool. You two go on. I need to get to work anyway. Call me later, Christian.”

  Christian . . .

  She walked over to him, gave him a hug, and then a kiss on the cheek. Knox eyed me the entire time she was in his arms. I couldn’t believe I had driven an hour and a half to witness this. This was nowhere on my radar. It was not the escape I imagined. I eyed Knox as he walked Nikki to the door and I overheard him say, “I’ll call you later. Enjoy your day.”

  Immediately I felt sick to my stomach. I need to get out of here.

  He closed the door behind her and turned to face me.

  “Who was that, Christian?” I asked, tilting my head. “And what was she doing here?”

  “Whoa, hold up,” he said, frowning. “I just told you that was Nikki. And she was here because I invited her here. Now wassup with all the attitude?”

  “The question is wassup with you inviting me to come down here and you got some chick all up in your room?”

  “First off, that attitude is straight outta pocket. Second of all, anytime I’ve ever asked you to come down here you always have some excuse and you never show up. Now all of a sudden you wanna peel your face away from the mirror, take a break from your fan club and the press, and fit me into your life schedule. Then you have the nerve to pop up—without calling—and wanna question me? Do I look like Corey? Nah, I don’t think so.”

  I didn’t respond to that. I couldn’t. Because if I did I would’ve responded with a slap across his face. I grimaced, folded my arms, and fought against my insecurities. “So umm, was all that production because that’s your little girlfriend?”

  “Are you my little girlfriend? Did your mother give you permission? Is that why you’re here?”

  I don’t believe he said that. Tears rushed to the back of my eyes. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. You better not drop a tear. What you better do is read him. “Let me kick this to you real quick—”

  Knox walked up to me, leaving no personal space between us. “Yo, what’s your problem?”

  “I don’t have a problem! I just don’t appreciate being made to look stupid.”

  “What?” He looked at me confused. “Stupid?! What are you talking about? You are being real silly right now.”

  “I’m not your groupie. You got the wrong one! You could’ve told me that you were seeing somebody else!”

  “I don’t have to tell nothing. You’re not my girl, but it’s obvious that you wanna be.” He stepped even closer. Brushed my hair from my face. “You wanna be my girl? Just say the word and I might let you be.”

  “Boy, please.” I waved my hand. “If I wanted you I could have you. Let’s not forget about this summer.”

  “Rich.”

  “What?”

  “Shut up,” he said sternly as he surprisingly pressed his lips against mine, forcing our tongues to drip in heated delight. Knox ran his hands through my hair and instantly my knees buckled as he pressed my back against the wall. I placed my hands on the nape of his neck and continued to kiss him passionately. Our tongues flicked back and forth and I felt as if we were fighting a love war.

  His hands roughly cupped my behind and just as I lifted my leg to meet his waist, he broke our kiss, grabbed my thigh and said, “Are you done playing games yet?”

  What? Did he just...

  “Come on, Knox,” I said, sounding as if I was seconds away from begging. “Not now.” I pulled him closer to me and attempted to kiss him again. “We can talk about this later. I promise.” I lifted his shirt and ran my hands over his pecs.

  He pushed my hand down and pulled his face away. “Nah, there’s no later. You need to let me know what this is now. ’Cause if all you’re offering me is a piece of you then I gotta say peace to you, ’cause I’m done with the games.”

  Why was he doing this? Damn. I felt desperate. I needed him, in more than one way. And I needed him today, right now, at thi
s moment. I needed to be in his arms and yeah, I wanted to stay there forever, but given my life I didn’t know how I would do that . . . if I could do that... But judging by the look in his eyes I knew that it was all or nothing. So I did what I had to do, which was tell him what he wanted to hear before I lost him for good. “I love you.” I looked deep into his eyes. “And I wanna be with you.” I lifted his shirt above his head and kissed him on his neck. “Always.”

  “Then you got me.” He reached over me and flicked the light off.

  22

  Spencer

  “Spencer, Spencer, Spencer . . .”

  Ohsweethoneyblossoms . . .

  I lay perfectly still in my bed, wondering if this was the beginning of a nightmare. I lifted my eye mask up over my head. There stood my mother tapping the side of my bed with a rolled up magazine in her manicured hand. She was immaculately dressed in a tailored pencil skirt and sleeveless blouse. Her arms were toned from years of Pilates. I knew her matching blazer was somewhere not too far, ready to be slipped into. Her light, honey-brown hair was cut into a sleek bob. I blinked. Surprised she had cut and relaxed the curly locks that normally bounced up on her shoulders. Kitty was in her early forties, but she didn’t look a day over thirty-nine. And she definitely didn’t look old enough to be the mother of a teenage daughter. And she sure didn’t act like a mother, either.

  I scowled, realizing that this wasn’t the opening of a frightening dream. It was indeed a fairy tale. I was Little Red Riding Hood. And she was the Big Bad Wolf. Two days later, she finally decides to show her face to blow my house down.

  “When the cat’s away, the mice will play,” she said in a singsong voice. “Or in this case my sweet, sweet Spencer will. So, tell me. Does this magazine article have anything to do with why you’re sleeping ’til noon? Or could it be the two million hits on YouTube that have worn you out? Oh, wait. Perhaps I should be the one tired from Hustler magazine, Playboy, and XXX Girls calling me nonstop to see if you’re eighteen. Yeah, that’s it. I should be the one exhausted.”

 

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