by Nikki Carter
“Right,” Ricky says. “Listen, I honestly don’t know if I can do this. I’ll try it, but if I can’t . . . uh . . . concentrate on my studies, I’m going back on campus.”
I say, “Fair enough. It’s your choice.”
“Didn’t you say you were having a recording studio put into the house?” Gia asks. “Is that going to be noisy?”
“Actually, no,” I say. “There’s a mother-in-law suite in the back of the house. It’s totally separate. That’s where the studio is going to be. Speaking of that, Piper, I want to hire you to do the appointments and book studio time. I’m going to rent it out to aspiring artists.”
“You are such a businesswoman,” DeShawn says. “I love that about you.”
Everyone bursts into laughter at DeShawn and his declarations of love.
“Do y’all want to take a tour of the house?” I ask.
“Yes!” Gia says. “I’ve got first dibs on bedrooms—after Sunday of course.”
“Well, I have the master bedroom, and y’all can figure out how to distribute the other four. My Realtor is on the way, so the guys can ride with her.”
“I am so excited about this!” Piper says. “Meagan is just going to die.”
On the way over to the house, Gia has a serious and concerned look on her face. She bites her nails and keeps gazing out of the car window.
“Gia, what’s wrong?” I ask.
“Ricky. I don’t think he’s going to move in with us.”
“Why wouldn’t he want to move to a mansion?” Piper asks from the backseat.
Gia shakes her head. “He’s so different now. It’s like I don’t even know him anymore.”
“You ever thought about going out on a date with someone else?” Hope asks.
Gia spins around in her seat with her jaw totally unhinged. “Hope, seriously! I’m destined to be with Ricky!”
“I’m not saying that you’re not, but you’re both so miserable right now. He’s insisting on staying apart, and you keep smothering the life out of him.”
“I’m smothering him! Did he say that to you?” Gia is hot and mad now. I think the window just fogged up on her side.
Hope nods. “In so many words.”
“Did he tell you to tell me to date someone else?” Gia’s voice trembles.
“No, he didn’t say that. I don’t think he wants to lose you either, but we’re in college! We’re supposed to be having fun. I’ve never seen Ricky this . . . well . . . blah!”
“You mean he’s not always so dull and boring?” Piper asks. “I thought that was just his personality.”
“No! Ricky is one of the coolest guys on the planet. I wish y’all could meet him,” Hope says sadly.
“Okay, she’s right,” Gia says. “The way Ricky is now is a hot mess, but I don’t want to date anyone else.”
“You don’t have to actually date anyone seriously. Just go out and have some fun with someone different,” Piper says.
“Like who?”
“Like Rashad,” Hope says. “Remember him?”
Gia chuckles. “Yes, of course I do, but he’s not in Atlanta, is he?”
“Yes, he is! It was such a coincidence. I met him at a club, and we got to talking. When I told him you were my cousin, he started laughing and talking about how you played him in New York City. He goes to Morehouse.”
“Wait! Who is Rashad?” I ask.
“A guy I met at a summer program right before my senior year of high school,” Gia says. “He was really cool.”
“How about he’s the guy that almost stole her from Ricky!”
“Drama!” Piper says. “Y’all haven’t kept in touch?”
Gia shakes her head. “No. Once Ricky and I started dating, it felt weird staying friends with him.”
“What does he look like?” Piper asks.
“He’s fine!” Hope says. “Long locks, very muscular. If he hadn’t already hollered at Gia, I so would’ve wanted his number.”
“So, do you want to see him, Gia?” I ask.
She shrugs and gazes out of the window again. “I think that might be opening a can of worms.”
“You are pitiful, Gia!” Hope says.
Gia clears her throat. “Okay, so when we move in . . . maybe we can invite Rashad to our housewarming party.”
“We’re having a housewarming party?” I ask.
“Uh . . . duh!” Piper says. “We are sooooo having a party.”
“Thanks for letting me know,” I say.
“Anytime, landlady,” Piper says.
We crack up laughing as we pull into what’s hopefully going to be our new house. It’s huge, though not as big as the other homes on this street.
“Are you kidding me?” Piper says. “This is where we’re gonna live? I cannot believe this.”
Gia says, “Believe it. Sunday is blessed, and God’s going to keep opening doors for her because she blesses other people.”
This makes me feel a little guilty. I can’t say I’ve been to church all that much since the whole music career thing started and I started school. But Gia is so right. I look at all of this as a blessing.
“Come on, y’all!” I say. “Let’s go look at the house.”
My Realtor, Vanessa, is already walking up to the door with the guys. Kevin is making a squealing sound, so I’m going to assume that means he likes the house.
DeShawn jogs back to us as we walk up. He says, “Are you sure you won’t marry me, Sunday?”
“Boy, stop!” I reply and give him a play punch in the arm.
He sighs. “A love tap.”
We walk into the double front doors and into the two-story foyer. The floor is white ceramic tile. That was one of my deal breakers. I didn’t want carpet, because I’ve always wanted to hear my feet clicking through the house. My mom has always insisted on thick carpet, and sometimes you just want to feel the cold floor on your feet.
“So what do you all think?” Vanessa asks.
Kevin says, “It’s incredible. I am really at a loss for words, and that doesn’t happen often.”
“Can we . . . um, look around upstairs?” Ricky asks.
“Yes, feel free,” Vanessa says.
Gia smiles as everyone takes off in different directions. “He’s going to come and live with us,” she whispers. “How could he not?”
I’ve got to agree that Ricky would be a nut to turn down living in this fabulous house. The master bedroom is downstairs, and the other bedrooms are upstairs. Finally, I get my own space. I haven’t had my own room since junior year of high school when Aunt Charlie, Manny and Dreya moved in with us. I’m looking forward to this.
Vanessa walks up to me and says, “The bank accepted your offer, so I think it’s pretty safe to say you are now a proud property owner.”
“Wow! I can’t believe this.”
“I have to warn you, though, this is a pretty exclusive, old-money kind of community. It’s going to take some time for them to warm up to you. They don’t really want a group of rowdy college students for neighbors.”
“We’re not rowdy, so they shouldn’t have a problem.”
“Well, your idea of rowdy and their idea of rowdy are probably two different things,” Vanessa says. “It will probably be a good idea if you go and introduce yourselves to all of them. Take Kevin with you. He’s about as white bread as they come. That boy almost had me accepting Jesus as my personal savior.”
I laugh out loud. “But I thought you already go to church.”
“I do, but he had me thinking I needed to get saved again.”
Piper and Hope come back downstairs into the foyer. “So two of the bedrooms are small and two are large, so we’ve decided that the boys get two rooms and the girls get two rooms,” Piper says.
“Gia and I will share, obviously,” Hope says. “But I think the guys want to draw straws or something to see who gets their own room.”
“Whatever works,” I say. “Come on, I want to show y’all the back patio and
pool house.”
We go through the sliding glass doors to the back patio. The previous owners probably used this area to entertain a lot, because they had an outdoor kitchen installed and the pool is landscaped to look like a tropical paradise. This is really what sold me on this property, because I could swim all day, every day. I’m probably going to be in a perpetual state of pruniness once we move in.
“It’s gorgeous,” Piper says to me. “Meagan will want to know why you didn’t invite her to move with us.”
“No, she won’t,” I say. “She’ll know why.”
Piper nods. “She’s still dating Linden. She got in very late last night and reeked of his cologne when she came in.”
“You should’ve come to me and Gia’s room to spend the night.”
“I should’ve, but I was able to endure it because of this.” She makes a sweeping motion to the house. “I don’t know how to thank you for this.”
“I don’t know how many people go around thanking their landlord all the time. I just want you to pay the rent on time,” I say in reply.
“I will, Sunday. You won’t regret this. We’re going to have a blast.”
Kevin wanders around the outside kitchen. He yells, “We are going to have outside Sunday brunches, catered by yours truly!”
Everyone, including Ricky, bursts into laughter. It’s good to see that he’s joining in on the fun. Because Ricky’s level of comfort with this whole thing directly affects the attitude of my best friend. Gia is grinning from ear to ear.
Wait, this is the first time I’ve thought of Gia as my best friend, but she really is. Even though she’s already got a whole pack of besties, I feel closer to her than I’ve ever felt to anyone.
Piper locks her arm in mine and says, “Sunday, I think you are the first real friend I’ve ever had in my life. Love you, girl.”
“Love you right back.” I say.
Why does Piper’s tight grip on my arm feel like a friend claim? I like Piper too, but I’m definitely not as close to her as I am to Gia. However, since there’s no reason to burst her bubble right now, I’m just going to leave it alone.
There’s enough of me to go around.
22
My mother’s heels click sharply as she walks through my new house. She’s going with me to sign the closing papers today, but this is her first time seeing the space at all. I have purposely kept her from the house, because I don’t want to hear her complaints.
“This house is twenty years old. Did you get it inspected?” My mom says after walking through the downstairs rooms.
“I did get an inspection, Mom. Actually, my Realtor suggested that I get two, so I did.”
“I don’t suppose I can get you to change your mind, huh? You are determined to be a landlady to your ragtag group of friends.”
“Why you gotta talk about my friends?” I ask.
My mother ignores my question and ascends the stairs. I know that her issue is not with my friends. She actually happens to like them.
“Where are the boys going to be?”
“They’ll be in the rooms down the hall to the right.”
She clears her throat. “Do I need to have another sex talk with you?”
This makes me burst into laughter. “No, Mom.”
“I don’t want y’all getting impregnated at high rates in this house.”
“Mom, we are not getting pregnant! More than half of us are virgins.”
“Are you in that half?” she says over the staircase.
“None of your business.”
My mother stops in her tracks, spins on one heel and starts back down the stairs. “What did you say to me?”
“I was kidding! Yes, Mom. I’m one of the virgins!”
“I don’t know what to believe with Dreya walking around with a gut full of human.”
“I’m not Dreya, Mom.”
The doorbell rings, and I run over to answer it. It’s Big D and Sam. They’re here to look at the space in my mother-in-law suite that I’m converting to a studio. I want to get started working on that as soon as possible.
“Hey, y’all,” I say as I swing the door open.
“Sunday, this place is incredible,” Sam says. “Congratulations.”
“It is, isn’t it?” I say with a smile.
Big D gives me his signature bear hug and spins me around. “Baby girl, I’m so proud of you. You’re moving your crew in too, like a baby Zillionaire or something.”
“What crew? Your homegirls from campus?”
“Yeah, and the guys too.”
“What guys?” Sam asks, his voice taking on a protective tone.
I ignore his tone. “Ricky, Kevin, DeShawn. They’re paying me rent.”
“Does your mother know about this?” Sam asks.
My mom pokes her head out from one of the bedrooms. “Yes, her mother knows about this. It’s her house. I can’t tell her who to move in.”
“Is he sharing a bedroom with you?” Sam asks.
“Uh! Get some business, Sam! You are not here to interrogate me about my living arrangements. You’re here to tell me how to build my recording studio.”
I lead a chuckling Big D and a fuming Sam through the back screen doors, past my pool oasis and into the small cottage where I plan on making the rest of my music.
Sam surveys the space by walking back and forth and counting paces on the floor. He knocks on the walls, measures the biggest room, and then gazes down at the hardwood floors.
“It’s perfect for a studio,” Sam mutters. “But why do you want a recording studio anyway? What’s wrong with the lab?”
“Yeah, what’s wrong with my spot?” Big D asks. “You about to leave us? Go out on your own?”
“No, not at all, but I want to start producing my own tracks.”
Sam folds his arms across his chest and leans on the wall. “You want to be a producer, a songwriter, and a singer. Dang, girl! Can somebody else eat?”
“Yeah, but this is also part of my business plan. I’m going to be selling studio time too.”
“Oh, she’s a mogul in the making, Big D. Watch out, she’s coming for you and Evan,” Sam says.
“Can you please put your hateration in check, Sam? Or are you still mad that DeShawn might see me in my underwear?”
“You think I care if you’re going to be a sugar mama to some broke model?”
My mouth drops open. “A sugar mama? You are out of line, Sam.”
“No. You are! I’ve done everything possible to get you back, and you won’t even hear me out.”
“Sam . . .” Big D says.
“No, Big D, let him talk! He thinks he can do whatever he wants with whomever he wants, and that I’ll just forgive it all.”
“The rumors of my exploits have been greatly exaggerated!”
I shake my head and laugh. “It’s not the rumors that broke us up, Sam. It was your lies. How often do you see Rielle, huh? Do you hang out with her every time you’re in town? Do you take her on shopping sprees?”
“When are you going to get off of that, Sunday?”
“Never! I’m never going to get off of that. Don’t you see? I’ve moved on. You should too.”
Sam pulls . . . no, snatches me into his arms and crushes his lips down on mine. I roughly push him away.
“Does that feel like I’ve moved on, Sunday? All I think about is you. I don’t even go out anymore. All I do is work, because I can’t stop thinking about you. I’ve got a thousand tracks I’ll never use, because you’re not going to write the songs to them!”
“I see you have a lot of regrets, Sam, but how do I know you won’t do this again?”
Sam takes my hand, gently this time. “Stop thinking so much! It’s not about what you know! It’s about what you feel.”
“Sorry, Sam. I can’t put myself in that situation again. I just can’t.” I let go of Sam’s hand and take several steps backward, widening the gap of space between us.
Big D kisses me on the fo
rehead and says, “Come on, Sam. We need to go. Sunday, you have a beautiful house. I’m proud of you, girl. We’ll let ourselves out.”
“Sunday, please . . .”
I can’t deal with Sam pleading with me. “Sam, let me go! Let us go!”
Sam’s eyes look glossy, but no tears fall. His face bears a grim expression as he follows Big D out of my cottage.
Breaking up is hard enough, but when it’s like this, it’s impossible. Every time I see Sam it’s like we break up all over again. The feelings and emotions are the same, and it feels as raw as it did the first time we said good-bye.
I step out of the cottage and call out. “Sam!”
He turns with a hopeful look on his face. This stabs me in the heart. “Yes?”
“Don’t come here again. Stay away from me. We can’t get over each other if we keep dealing with each other.”
“You’re not over me yet?” Sam asks, and even still the hope is there.
“I don’t know if I’m over you, Sam. It doesn’t mean that I want us to get back together, though, because I don’t.”
I hear these words come out of my mouth, and for once, I am convinced they are true. I don’t want to go back with Sam. Trust is no longer a part of that situation.
“What are we going to do about Drama’s record?” Sam asks.
“We’re almost done with it anyway.”
Sam nods and storms off, with Big D behind him. And why am I crying again, like the very first time Sam hurt me?
Yeah. Breaking up is the hardest thing ever. Especially when only one person wants to walk away.
23
I’ve got to admit when Evan asked me to meet with him I was a little suspicious. Okay, I was a lot suspicious, but with good reason. I’ve not really had a good track record with Dreya’s men. Her last real boyfriend tried to push up on me and got knocked out by Sam, so when Evan reached out to me for an alone meeting, at dinner no less, it made me wonder.
I’m sitting across the table from Evan at Justin’s Restaurant trying to read his mind. He looks on edge, so I’ve got some nervous anticipation of whatever whammy he’s going to drop. The look on his face tells me he’s got something on his mind.