by Nikki Carter
“That would be hot.”
“Gia, we are going to have a great time this summer.”
“We are?”
Rashad touches my arm, and I nearly jump out of my seat. His touch is electric.
“Yes. Have you ever been to New York?”
I shake my head. “No. I went online and found some cool places I want to visit.”
“The best places aren’t online.”
“Then how am I supposed to find them?” I ask.
“You were supposed to meet me on this flight so I could show them to you.”
I let out a half laugh, half snort. “Seriously? Wow, you’ve got it all figured out, I see.”
“Glad to provide some humor, Princess.”
“Why do you keep calling me that?” I ask.
“What? Princess?”
“Yeah.”
He lifts an eyebrow. “You don’t like it?”
“It just seems a little…I don’t know…like maybe we should get to know each other first before you start giving me nicknames.”
“I call every young lady I meet a princess.”
I feel really stupid right now. I thought he was giving me a pet name or something.
“So is your friend Ricky really your boyfriend, and you’re just saying he’s your friend to throw your mother off the trail?”
“Uh…not exactly. Not officially.”
Rashad chuckles. “So does that mean I still have a shot?”
“A shot at what?”
“Being your summer crush?”
“Anything’s possible I suppose.”
3
I’m completely stoked when the plane lands. New York City! I’m here!
Rashad stays close by when we get off the plane, which causes some inappropriate mean mugging by Ricky. But I think Rashad can sense that because he sticks out his hand right away for Ricky to shake.
After hesitating for a second too long, Ricky does shake his hand. “I’m Ricky Freeman. You are?”
“Rashad Moore. I met Gia on the plane. I had the pleasure of sitting next to her.”
Totally blushing right now. Ricky is giving me a blank stare too, like he’s trying to figure out what’s going on in my head. If I knew what was going on in my head, I would definitely let him know.
I spent the entire flight getting to know Rashad, and he’s cool as what. And fine as all get out. And we’re in the same program too? What the heck kinda coincidence is that? Especially since Ricky is in the engineering program and will be crunching numbers all summer.
Is it possible to have more than one crush at a time? I know I can have celebrity crushes and real-boy crushes and it’s okay, but two real-boy crushes? I don’t know the rules on that.
“Are you in the Columbia program too?” Ricky asks.
“Yep. This is my third year,” Rashad replies.
Why is Ricky looking like he wants to square up and chop Rashad down with a two-piece? Unnecessary roughness for real. Ricky and his big ego can go somewhere else. The funniest part though is that Rashad seems completely oblivious to Ricky’s macho-man routine. Ha!
“I guess we should go over to the baggage claim,” Rashad says.
Ricky replies, “Yeah, yeah. I knew that.”
Okay, Ricky is totally tripping with these caveman shenanigans. Rashad hasn’t done anything threatening yet. We’ve just spent a couple hours chatting. No harm there.
The baggage-claim area at this airport is a complete zoo. I’m used to the airport in Cleveland—that’s pretty tame compared to this. Ricky looks a little confused too, so Rashad leads the way.
“It might take a while for our luggage to unload,” Rashad says. “Depending on the airline, it can be kinda slow.”
“You travel a lot?” I ask.
“Yeah. My dad is the head lawyer for an export company that does a lot of trade overseas. I’ve been to Europe, China, and most recently Dubai. But we come to New York more than anything.”
“Sounds exciting,” I say. “I’ve never been out of the country, unless Canada counts. I’ve been to Niagara Falls on a church bus trip.”
“Canada is another country,” Ricky says.
Rashad smiles at me and brushes my long cornrows back. “Technically, you’re international, Princess.”
Ricky rolls his eyes and frowns. And with good reason now. Rashad is seriously moving in on his territory, and he’s bold with it too. His swagger is sick!
“Here come the bags!” I say. I’m totally happy for the diversion.
Thank God, our suitcases come up quickly. I had a little bit of anxiety about my luggage getting lost. That was a direct result of my mom’s brainwashing. Gwen made me put a whole set of clothes in my carry-on bag in case my suitcase disappeared and I had to wait days to get my stuff.
Ricky grabs my bag off the belt. “Gia, here’s your bag. You are straight tripping with the amount of stuff you have in here.”
“A princess has got to look the part, right?” Rashad asks.
I’m dead, y’all. I just rolled over on the floor and died! Rashad is really trying to start some drama.
Ricky gives Rashad some tight-lipped side eye. Jesus, be a let’s all just get along fence around me. And Ricky.
There’s a man holding up a sign that says “Columbia Summer Program.” He must be our ride.
“I think that guy over there is waiting for us,” I say.
“He is,” Rashad says. “They try to time the shuttles so they get a van full of us every time.”
We make our way over to the van driver, and he shows us to a long white van that’s already full of kids. I feel my stomach jump a little. It’s starting! My summer of fun is starting right now!
When we get on the van, everyone cheers. I’m guessing it’s for Rashad, because they don’t know me and Ricky yet. I mean, once they do get to know me, there will be cheering when I step up in the place. Okay, maybe not, but whateva to you and your hateration.
A very pretty, thick brown girl with a head full of curls looks Ricky up and down. “You’re new. And a cutie. I’m Sienna.”
I look at Ricky with my lips totally twisted. I want to see how he responds to this because this is going to determine the course of the summer, for real.
He grins extra hard and says, “I’m Ricky Freeman. Thanks, you’re cute too.”
YOU’RE CUTE TOO!!!!!!
Let me take a deep inhale and exhale before I explode on this boy. I know he feels pressed and all about Rashad, but this is full-fledged flirting. While Rashad was openly flirting with me, I totally danced around any real flirtations myself. Ricky is trying to catch a beat-down.
Sienna says, “Too bad for you, I have a boyfriend who lives in New York, so you’ll just have to gaze upon this cuteness, wishing you were my boo.”
Ricky laughs. “I guess I’ll just have to live with that.”
Sienna giggles and turns her attention to me. “What’s your name? Love your braids. Is that your real hair?”
I force myself to reply, “I’m Gia. Yeah, it’s my real hair.”
“That’s hot.”
I feel my icy glare melt away. Sienna is truly friendly, and of course she has no idea about the history I have with Ricky.
Sienna leans up over her row in the van and gives Rashad a hug around his neck. “What’s up, Rashad! It’s gonna be crazy when we go to college and don’t get to see each other in the summers anymore.”
“I know, right! That’s why we have to have a blast this year,” Rashad says. “I don’t know if I’m coming next summer. Might try to do some stuff at home with my friends and enjoy the end of my senior year.”
“I’ll be here next summer because my boyfriend lives in New York! I’ll probably go to college here too,” Sienna says.
After a few more kids pile into the van, we pull away from the airport. Finally, I get to see New York, even if it is through the windows of the van.
“So are you still gonna do spoken-word stuff this summer, Rashad?�
�� Sienna asks.
Rashad replies, “If I get the opportunity. There are a few new spots I want to check out over in Harlem. My boy Leo hipped me to them.”
I listen to their conversation intently, trying to learn more about Rashad. One thing I’ve noticed off the bat is that he hasn’t called Sienna a princess yet. He told me he says that to all the girls. I’m thinking not.
His confidence is off the chain though. I love how his body movements go with what he’s sayng. He’s so animated it looks like the beginnings of a dance routine when he really gets going.
I see Ricky checking out Rashad too, like he’s scoping out his competition. But it was Ricky’s idea to have this whole “crush on hold” thing going on. So he can’t be mad at me if I’m enjoying some attention. Can he?
Yeah, I was extra heated when I thought Sienna was pushing up on Ricky. I think that was just some kind of instinct though. Maybe Ricky has the same kind of thing going on. I don’t know.
“We’re here!” Sienna squeals.
The van driver drops us off in front of a large building. He helps us unpack our bags and leaves us to fend for ourselves. Thankfully, there are a lot of kids out here, and we’ve got Rashad and Sienna to show us where we need to go.
“This is Lerner Hall,” Rashad explains. “This is where we sign in and get our rooming assignments.”
“It’s also the hangout spot!” Sienna says.
Rashad nods in agreement. “Yep. There’s a cool restaurant on the upstairs level that stays open late. It’s where everybody goes to hang on campus.”
“Off campus is another matter entirely! We can go to the artsy spots in Harlem, some jumpin’ teen spots in the Bronx and Brooklyn, or the VIP joints that pop in Manhattan,” Sienna says.
It sounds like Sienna really knows something about how to par-tay! I’m gonna have to limit my kicking-it time with her. Shoot, I know I’m all the way in New York, but Gwen’s mess radar can cross state lines.
Yep, I am one hundred percent afraid of what my mother would do if she heard about me partying VIP style in Manhattan. Can anyone spell B-E-A-T-D-O-W-N? My mama does not play.
Ricky tries to grab my suitcase for me to take it into Lerner Hall. How sweet and cavemanly of him.
“I’ve got it, Ricky,” I say. “Thanks for helping me, but you’ve got to get your own stuff. I can handle mine.”
Rashad breezes past us to meet up with some other people he probably knows from the previous summers. I watch as he hugs girls and guys alike, and I feel a little jealous that I’m not already in their clique.
“Are you coming, Princess?” Ricky asks.
I laugh out loud. “Is somebody hating? All you had to do was let Rashad know I’m your girl.”
“I’m not pressed. Dude is lame anyway, with that chick hair hanging down his back. Looking like Simba from The Lion King.” Ricky waves his hand to emphasize his point and starts toward the building.
Soon after we walk in, everyone gets into lines organized by their last name. Sienna stands behind me in line.
“Last name Thompson,” she explains.
I nod. “I didn’t know there were gonna be so many kids here. This is great.”
“Yeah. Seems like there are more than the last two years, so it’s really gonna be popping this year.”
Sienna’s cell phone rings, and she answers it on the first ring. “Hi, baby.”
I hate hearing only one side of a conversation, so I look around the room at my fellow students. This is really different from home. I thought I went to a pretty multicultural school at home. At Longfellow High, we’ve got Black, white, Latino, and a few Asians sprinkled in. But here there are people who really look like they come from other countries. Hotties from all over the world. Nice!
It’s finally my turn in line. There’s a bubbly girl sitting at the table, cheesing up at me. I can’t help but smile back.
“Hi! I’m Felicity Barrow. Welcome to Columbia University.”
“Hi. I’m Gia Stokes.”
Felicity scans her page and smiles. “Guess what, Gia?”
“Umm, I don’t know. What?”
“I’m your RA.”
She says this with such excitement that I’m thinking RA stands for “really awesome”!
I ask, “And RA is short for…?”
“Resident adviser. It means I’m your fun ambassador for the summer, and I’ll help you with any issues you might have.”
“So you’re like a camp counselor?”
Sienna whispers, “More like warden.”
Felicity giggles. “I guess it is something like a camp counselor! We’re going to have a great time.”
She gives me a huge stack of papers and tells me I’m in dormitory A. It’s a coed dorm! How cool is that? My mom will most probably have a coronary if she finds out about this, so we’re just not going to tell her.
“Now, you go stand in the line at the rear to take your ID photo,” Felicity explains. “When you’re done with that, you’ll receive your key card for your dorm.”
I groan on the inside when I glance back at the photo ID line. It’s super long, and I’m tired of dragging this luggage. But I’m not gonna let it get me too twisted, because why? I’m in New York City, baby!
After a really long and exaggerated sigh, I walk over to stand in line. Rashad walks up at the same time. Niiiice. “What dormitory are you in, Princess?” he asks.
“Dormitory A.”
“Me too. I’m looking forward to having pillow fights with you.”
I laugh out loud. “Seriously? Dude, I don’t pillow fight, but I will annihilate you in some Xbox.”
“You play Halo or something?” Rashad asks.
“Uh, no. Do I look like I play shoot-’em-up games? I’m a Rock Band girl.”
Rashad bursts into a flurry of giggles. “Man, you are funny.”
“Thank you.”
It’s funny watching people pose for their ID photos. One girl just tried to give that “I’m a supermodel” tight-eyed glare. Fail. Then, a boy who probably has a 4.0 GPA attempts a hardcore hip-hop-artist nod. Epic fail!
When it’s my turn, I’m feeling the pressure of the photo too. As I sit on the little round stool, I hope I don’t look like a nerdbomb in my picture.
Just as the photographer tells me to get ready, I look up and see Rashad smiling at me extra hard. I totally lose focus and end up not smiling but making what I’m sure is some completely goofy expression. “Can I get a do-over?” I ask the photographer.
“Sorry. It’s one and done. We’ve got a long line.”
Rashad clutches his stomach, doubles over, and laughs.
“Nice pic, Gia.”
I narrow my eyes and drag my suitcase over to the ID table. I wait until Rashad is about to take his picture, then blurt out, “That’s why you look like Simba from The Lion King!”
Rashad opens his mouth in shock just as the flash goes off. Ha! That’s what he gets for rumbling with the princess.
After Rashad picks his picture up from the table, he shows it to me. “Are you satisfied?” he asks. “You’ve got me looking foolish.”
I nod. “Yep, absolutely satisfied. Mine actually turned out cute.”
“Do you really think I look like Simba?”
“No.”
He sighs. “Good.”
“More like Mufasa.”
“Hater.”
“All day, every day.”
We both fall out laughing and head outside, where I meet up with Ricky and Sienna. Rashad goes off with a group of his friends.
“See you later, Princess!”
“Not if I see you first!”
Ricky gives me a blank stare. “Seriously, Gia?”
“What?”
Ricky shakes his head and asks, “What dorm are y’all in?”
“Dormitory A,” Sienna replies.
“Me too! Sweet!”
Sienna says, “I think they pretty much try to group us by age, which is cool because we do not
want a lot of freshmen up in our bidness.”
Ricky and I pull out our handy-dandy campus maps from the registration packets. Sienna laughs.
“Put them things away!” she says. “Follow me.”
“The itinerary says there’s a barbeque thing later,” I say. “Is that usually fun?”
Sienna nods. “Yeah, it’s cool. It’s where you get to scope out all the hotties and pick your summer crush. Unless you already have one.”
Why did she look at me when she said that? I haven’t demonstrated anything to Sienna to let her know about Ricky and I, other than a little bit of mean mugging in the van. So what is she talking about?
Okay, am I over thinking this or what? Maybe it was just a simple statement, with no deeper meaning at all.
“So you’re gonna go to your room and change for the barbeque?” Ricky asks.
“Yeah, but you don’t have to wait for me, because I don’t know how long it will take me to get dressed. I’ll meet you there.”
Ricky looks stunned by my response. It doesn’t have anything to do with Rashad, although I know he thinks it does. I want to meet my roommate and take my time getting dressed.
Now, if I happen to run into Rashad on my way over to the barbeque, it’s all good.
What? Don’t give me a blank stare. Ricky is the one who started this “no-crush summer” mess. It’s all his fault.
Sienna drops me off at my suite. “I’m right upstairs in room four-oh-nine-B. You can call from room to room by dialing seven first and then the room number.”
“Get the heck out of here! Like in a hotel?”
She nods. “Yep. They have maids who come in every day to clean the rooms too.”
“Shut up!”
Sienna laughs and leaves me to go to her room. I open the door to my suite with a swanky little key card. Already, I’m adding Columbia to my college list. I could get used to this.
The first thing I notice when I step into my bedroom is a strong coconut scent. It’s nice—kind of earthy, but sweet, like how a day spa might smell.
“I hope you like coconut,” says the girl I’m assuming is my roommate.
“I do, it smells nice. Hi, I’m Gia Stokes.”
The girl walks up to me swinging her pin-straight, obviously salon-straightened tresses. Her skin is the color of butter-pecan ice cream and completely acne free (hate her). She moves like a supermodel, deliberately taking wide strides and swinging her arms as if on a runway. She stops in front of me and kisses both my cheeks. Well, she doesn’t actually kiss me. She makes kissing noises in the air.