by Nikki Carter
“Stranger things have happened. If you want to get with Ricky, you’re on your own, boo.”
Hope frowns. “I can’t stand you, Gia.”
“I love you too, Hope.”
6
“Gia, you look like a grown-up lady.”
Why did I walk into the school, trying to make the main hallway the runway for my new no-Tweety look? Hope was on one side of me and Candy on the other as we walked to our lockers. I thought I was bringing it! Unfortunately, the only person who noticed all the fabulosity that is moi, was the ripeness that is Kevin.
He repeats his statement. “Did you hear me, Gia? I said you look like a grown-up lady.”
I guess this is a compliment, so I say, “Thank you, Kevin. You look nice too.”
Forgive me, Lord, for that small fib. Kevin doesn’t exactly look nice. He looks almost normal with some faded jeans and a white T-shirt. It would look nice if he wasn’t rocking it with his grandfather’s dress belt and his shiny, black patent leather church shoes. And why can’t he just Noxema his mocha-colored skin, and ask his grandmother to take him to the barber? All those wild curls could be waves. Even with a little acne he’d be kinda cute. What? I’m just saying.
But did I mention that the T-shirt is tucked in? All the way in. Where are those dudes from What Not to Wear when you need them?
But speaking of fresh and clean, here comes Ricky walking down the hall. He waves at our little informal posse and doesn’t even seem to notice the girls who are giving him double takes.
This year he’s sporting a low haircut and it goes perfect with his thick eyebrows and pretty eyes. His outfit is the bidness too. His perfectly baggy jeans and a button-down shirt are a fresh mix of nerd and jock. I vote yes!
“Hi, Ricky!” says Hope.
Ricky gives Hope a hug. “Hey, Hope! Happy first day of school.”
I make gagging noises. Ricky sure knows how to mess up a flawless entrance. Happy first day of school? You gotta be kidding me.
“What, Gia?” asks Ricky.
“Nothing, dude. I like your outfit. It’s fresh.”
“I like yours too,” he replies, as I do a little turn so he can get the full effect.
“Doesn’t she look pretty?” asks Kevin.
Forgive me, Lord, for just rolling my eyes at my opposite-of-secret admirer. I’m gonna need Kevin to simmer down. It’s too early in the morning for me to have to say all these prayers of repentance. I get it. He likes me. But still ... Boo!
Candy sees her freshman crew and says, “Holla! My girls are here.”
Candy obviously chose to go against our advice, because she and her two best friends are wearing the exact same T-shirts in different colors. I wonder if they all got them with the five-finger discount.
“Thank goodness, her little friends are here! She is so irking!” I say.
Hope laughs. “Gia is a big sister. Wow!”
“I know, right! You’ve got to prepare somebody for this kind of invasion.”
Ricky smiles. “I think she’s sweet.”
“She’s sweet and sour,” I reply truthfully.
Down the hall, I see Valerie and a group of other Hi-Steppers standing near the cafeteria. I guess Ricky sees her too, because now he’s got a harsh frown on his caramel-colored face.
“What’s the matter, Ricky?” asks Hope. She has strategically placed her hand on his back and is rubbing in little circles. So obviously, she’s serious about this whole I-like-Ricky thing.
Ricky shakes his head. “Nothing. I’m good. Kev, let’s roll out! We’ve got gym first period.”
Hope’s eyes follow Ricky as he and Kevin head toward the gymnasium. “He looks impossibly cute today.”
“Eww!”
“What?” asks Hope innocently.
I cannot and will not tolerate this level of foolishness from Hope for the entire school year. I hope she gets over this Ricky thing quick, fast, and in a hurry. It is not a good look.
“Here comes your friend,” Hope says as Valerie prances toward us.
“Ooo-OOO!” says Valerie. This is the Hi-Stepper greeting.
I give Valerie a high-five and shout, “Ooo-OOO!”
Hope says, “Hello, Valerie.”
“The rally girl hopeful,” Valerie says with a sneer. “Hello, Hope.”
“That’s right. I plan on becoming a rally girl, and I’m proud of it!”
Valerie laughs. “What is it that rally girls do again?”
“We are the spirit ambassadors of the school,” Hope declares.
“We? Wow, you’re pretty sure you’ll make the squad, huh?” Valerie asks. “You never know what’s going to happen.”
Hope narrows her eyes and says, “Gia, I’ll see you at lunch.”
“Bye, Hope!” Valerie says as Hope storms away angrily.
Valerie leans against my locker and smiles at me. “So, have you talked to Ricky yet?”
“See, it’s kind of complicated.”
“Well, what are you waiting for?” she asks.
“I guess the right time hasn’t come up.”
“Well, I’m waiting, Gia. Don’t let me down! I need to start picking out our Homecoming outfits.”
Well, no one can say that she’s not confident. Trouble is, this whole thing feels like ... well ... trouble. Especially since Hope has kicked her crush into overdrive. I don’t think our newly mended friendship can make it through any kind of betrayal. This sounds like drama getting ready to happen.
And it’s just the first day of school.
7
Candy looks nervous. Even though she’s smiling from ear to ear and standing at attention, she looks ridiculously nervous. And she should. She’s trying out for the Hi-Steppers.
It’s rare for a freshman to make the squad at all, much less the A squad. Last year, I had the most flawless tryout ever and at first I only made the B squad. Valerie gave the foolish excuse that my image was not up to par.
Um ... yeah. No.
When Candy’s music starts, she begins her complicated routine. And, oh my goodness, she’s really good. She’s completely and totally better than I expected.
And now ... my dilemma.
It doesn’t make any difference to me how awesome she is. I cannot and will not share the Hi-Steppers with my kleptomaniac stepsister. This is so not how I envisioned my junior year.
Finally, Candy’s music stops and she takes a bow. And, wait ... what is this? Oh, you have got to be kidding me. Valerie is giving Candy a standing ovation. This, of course, causes all of Valerie’s protégées to also stand.
Will I look like a straight hater if I don’t stand up and clap too?
Umm, yeah. I know. So, now, I’m standing, clapping, and smirking.
After the tryouts, which were completely lame outside of Candy’s performance, Mrs. Vaughn wants to meet with Valerie and me to deliberate on who we should select. But until she calls us into her office, we have time to mingle with the other Hi-Steppers. The hopefuls are hanging around too, talking to other members of the squad, trying to get a feel about whether they’re going to be picked.
Jewel’s cousin Sarah asks, “So, Gia, what did you think of my performance?”
Why did she have to ask me? Sarah’s routine was to Britney Spears’s song, “Gimme More.” She just about nailed Britney’s performance on the MTV Video Music Awards. Mmm-hmm. It was that bad. I did not want more. No ma’am, I did not.
“What did you think of your performance?” I ask, trying to avoid giving an answer that might hurt her feelings.
A big smile burst onto Sarah’s face. “I thought it totally rocked!”
I am now completely in blank stare mode. What am I supposed to say to that? That’s what I get for asking the question.
“Well, rock on then!” I know that was a lame, cop-out response, but it’s all I could come up with.
Sarah looks pleased, though. I hope I didn’t give her the wrong impression, because she is soooo not getting picked for the A or B
squad. If we had a Z squad, then maybe ...
Mrs. Vaughn has finally poked her head out of her office door. “Valerie, Gia! Come on back. The rest of you ladies are dismissed. We’ll have the results posted in two days.”
Valerie and I jog back to Mrs. Vaughn’s office and take seats in front of her desk. Mrs. Vaughn has her selection sheet already marked up and there are big red lines through several of the names. Sarah’s name is already crossed through, which means Valerie and I won’t have to deliberate on her. Thank the Lord up in the heavens!
Candy’s name has a green circle around it. That means she’s made Mrs. Vaughn’s short list. Dang.
Mrs. Vaughn says, “I think we had a few stand-out performances this year. That Candy Ferguson was spectacular. And she’s a freshman too!”
“Yes, she was really good,” Valerie adds.
I say, “She was all right.”
Both Valerie and Mrs. Vaughn look at me like I’ve completely lost my mind.
Valerie asks, “Are you serious, Gia? You sound like a hater.”
I clear my throat and reply, “Her dad just married my mom, so I don’t want to give her any special treatment.”
Valerie’s eyes light up and she has an expression on her face that I can’t quite read.
Mrs. Vaughn says, “Well, I like her. She’s a definite on the A squad. It sounds like Valerie agrees.”
This here is a touchy scenario for me as the newly crowned co-captain. I wonder if I have any real power. Should I threaten to drop off the squad if they pick Candy? I don’t know. What if they tell me to bounce? That would be all bad.
Dang!
“Well, I don’t mind if you all don’t mind,” I reply, trying not to sound as disappointed as I feel.
“It’s settled then,” Mrs. Vaughn says. “Candy is a lock for the A squad, and we’ve got one more slot to fill there. My suggestion is the sophomore, Dionna Williams.”
Valerie scrunches her nose. “She can step, but her reputation is kind of tarnished. The Hi-Steppers are supposed to be examples for the young ladies in the school.”
Mrs. Vaughn raises her eyebrows and I know my eyes are about to pop out of my head. Valerie is full of jokes today. She is just about the last person to talk about someone’s reputation.
“None of the stories about me have ever been confirmed,” Valerie says as if she’s reading my mind.
Mrs. Vaughn shakes her head. “At any rate, Valerie, I don’t think I’m going to hold rumors over this young lady’s head. We’ll post the list day after tomorrow, but I expect the both of you to keep our selections confidential.”
“Of course, Mrs. Vaughn,” Valerie says.
I nod my head in agreement as well. I have absolutely no plans to tell Candy anything. Hopefully something will take place between now and Wednesday that will make this nightmare disappear.
8
Tonight is youth choir rehearsal night, and although it’s a school night I’m up in the spot along with Hope, Ricky, Kevin and, unfortunately, Candy. She is determined to become my evil doppelganger (yeah, that’s an SAT word fo’ sho’) and do everything that I do. Hi-Steppers, check! Youth choir, check! Next thing you know she’ll be ...
Oh, wait half a darn minute. This heifer has just taken her jacket off and she has the audacity to be rocking a Tweety T-shirt. And it’s not just any Tweety. It’s my favorite powder blue, glitter Tweety with the words Fabulous Me on the front.
Yeah, I hear what you’re saying. And yes, I do have a new look for this school year. But Tweety has not been retired. Our bond is too strong for that! He is simply on hiatus.
Just as I’m about to step to Candy and check her, Hope slides up in my area. “Hey, Gia,” she says.
“Hello.”
Hope asks, “Why are you looking extra heated?”
I am so furious that I cannot even form the words. I just glare over in Candy’s direction and Hope follows my eyes.
“What?” Hope asks. She apparently doesn’t see anything out of place.
I say one word. “Tweety.”
Hope’s lips form a little O and her eyes widen. “She’s wearing your shirt! Did she ask you?”
I lift an eyebrow and give Hope a grimace. Like I’d be angry if she’d asked. Of course, if she’d asked, I would’ve said no. But I still wouldn’t be angry.
“So I guess this isn’t a good time to tell you my news,” Hope says, sounding disappointed.
I suppose I can deal with the criminal later. “What’s your news?”
Hope smiles widely. “You are officially looking at a Longfellow Spartans rally girl!”
“Do they even have tryouts?” I ask. This is a valid question, by the way. How much talent does it take to pass out party flyers and chase boys?
“Yes, they have tryouts! You have to prove that you have spirit. And I’ve got spirit!”
At that very moment Kevin walks up. “Did you say you have the Holy Spirit?”
Both Hope and I give Kevin blank stares. Of course she didn’t say that, but do you know anyone who would stand in the church and say anything about not having the Holy Spirit?
Something is different about Kevin. I twist my lips to one side, trying to concentrate. Nope, it’s not his clothes. Corduroy pants and a tucked-in monster truck T-shirt—still a hot mess. It’s not his hands, because I can tell they’re moist and glistening from where I’m standing.
Ah! I see what it is! Kevin’s glasses are missing. I wonder if Mother Cranford prayed one of her healing prayers over him, because he is almost completely blind without those thick bifocals.
“Kevin, where are your glasses?” I ask.
“I have contacts now!” he exclaims. “What do you think? Do you like them?”
Well ... I don’t dislike them, that’s for sure. It’s like I’m seeing Kevin’s face for the first time ever, and it’s not all that bad. He’s not fine or anything, but he’s got that nerd cute, Lupe Fiasco kinda look. Trust, Kevin’s got a long way to go in the swagger department, but losing the glasses is mos def a step in the right direction.
“You look nice, Kevin,” I decide to reply. After all of the insults I’ve hurled at him, there is no reason why I can’t throw him a compliment every now and then.
It’s the Christian thing to do.
Kevin’s face turns beet red. “Thank you, Gia!”
He then runs toward the pulpit where we practice, probably to share the good news about my change of heart with Ricky.
Hope giggles. “Gia, Kevin just might turn out to be halfway decent.”
“Perhaps,” I shrug.
“You think maybe one day you and Kev will double date with me and Ricky?”
I give her a tremendous amount of my why-you-sound-stupid side eye and march myself on up to the pulpit. That foolishness was not funny and I don’t like to speak things that are not, as though they are—not in the house of the Lord. This is the place where impossible miracles occur.
I choose to stop thinking about this half-improved Kevin and focus my attention on Brother Bryan. He is only twenty-five, so if he really wanted to, he could wait for me to graduate from high school and marry me. Wow ... that totally sounds like something that would morph Gwen into her ninja stance.
Brother Bryan says, “I want everyone to welcome the newest member of our youth choir. Sister Candy Ferguson! Y’all give her a hand.”
Everyone claps but me. I can’t bring myself to do it. I don’t welcome her to yet another one of my activities. Why doesn’t she just find something that she likes on her own? Can’t she have just one original thought?
We rehearse for exactly one hour. Brother Bryan is strict about this during the school year. He doesn’t want any of us to blame him for slipping grades.
My uncle, Pastor Robert, drives Candy and me home. Usually Hope rides with us, but since Aunt Elena was finishing work at the church tonight, she goes home with her mom.
Once we’re driving down the street, Pastor asks, “So how are you and Gwen sett
ling in to your new home?”
I glance over my shoulder into the backseat. “I don’t really feel like it’s my home. It seems like I’m just visiting.”
I think of the picture of the poor man on the Monopoly board who’s stuck in jail, and the words Just Visiting on the outside. Only thing is, my situation is the opposite. I’m the one stuck behind the bars, and I don’t have any idea how long it’s going to take for me to get released.
“What about me, Pastor Stokes? Don’t you want to hear about how I’m adjusting?” Candy asks.
“Of course I do!” Pastor Stokes exclaims. “What do you think of the new additions to your family?”
“Well, Gwen is kinda nice. She pretty much leaves me alone.”
Pastor smiles. “And what about Gia?”
Yes. What about me? I dare her to say something out of pocket.
“I don’t think Gia likes me at all. She didn’t want to share a room with me, and just a little while ago, she threatened to beat me down if I wore any more of her cartoon character T-shirts.”
I gasp. “If you’re gonna snitch, do it correctly. I said I was going to bring the pain if I saw you wearing my T-shirts again. And we’re not just talking about any cartoon character, we’re talking about Tweety. Pastor, you know how I feel about Tweety.”
“I see. Well, I don’t want either of you resorting to violence. God would not be pleased with that at all. But Candy, do you think you could ask Gia first before borrowing her things?”
Candy slams against the backseat and pouts. “She wouldn’t have let me if I’d asked.”
“You’re right! I wouldn’t have. I don’t share Tweety!” I yell.
“See how mean she is?”
“Do either of you know what it means to be long-suffering?”
Oh no! Our bickering has triggered a Pastor Stokes mini-sermon. Candy is not familiar with how this works, but I totally am. If I had a nickel for every one of these sermons that Hope and I have gotten over the years, I could afford those designer outfits that Candy likes to get for free.
“It’s one of the fruits of the Spirit. You should know what it means, Gia—we’ve discussed it in Bible study,” Pastor Stokes says.