Cool Like That

by Nikki Carter

  Mrs. Bryant says, “When you visit the sights like the Statue of Liberty, Battery Park, and everything else, I want you to take a notebook.”

  Surprisingly, nobody groans or complains! I guess that’s because we’re a class full of smarty-pants. Back at Longfellow High it would’ve taken Mrs. B, our English teacher, about half an hour to calm everybody back down after mentioning a writing assignment.

  “With your notebooks, I want you to journal your first impressions of each landmark. In order to be a good writer, you must first learn to capture your experiences in words.”

  Mrs. Bryant has her hands clasped over her heart like she’s about to say “The Pledge of Allegiance.” At least she’s excited about the project, and no one can take that away from her (insert blank stare).

  “You’ll partner up with one or two people, and you’ll write what you experience with your five senses. Start today!”

  After class, everyone picks partners to start the project. This is the disadvantage of being the new person. The only person I know in here is Rashad, and thank God he’s coming my way.

  “Wanna partner up, Princess?” he asks.

  “Yes, I do.”

  He flashes me a smile. “You didn’t want to keep me in suspense at all? Just a little?”

  “Do shut up, Rashad! Ugh!”

  “Wait, is Ricky going to mind us being partners?”

  He most probably will, but I reply, “Why would Ricky mind me completing my project?”

  “Cool, so let’s start today. First stop, Canal Street.”

  “A street? Our first stop is a street?”

  Rashad laughs. “If you want a great first journal entry, Canal Street is the place. Go put on some sneakers and meet me in front of the dorm.”

  Rashad walks off with some of his boy groupies. These are the guys who try to imitate his swagger, or swagger-jack, if you will. But instead of being annoyed by these dudes, Rashad seems to actually like it.

  Melody and Sienna are in our room when I get there. It’s like the two of them are joined at the hip or something. I seem to recall Melody saying that she and I were going to become BFFs by the end of the summer. But looks like she’s found another bestie.

  “Where are you going?” Sienna asks as I put on my sneakers.

  “To Canal Street with Rashad. I’ll see y’all later.”

  Melody and Sienna look at each other and then laugh.

  “You think we’re letting you get away with that?” Melody asks, getting over her giggles.

  “Get away with what?”

  Sienna says, “Your little sneak date with Rashad.”

  “It’s not a date. It’s a class assignment.”

  “And you just happened to get Rashad as your partner?” Melody asks.

  Sienna says, “Well, somebody told me in lab this morning that Ricky was talking real reckless about both of you. And I heard Ricky was going to the teen club with a bunch of people tonight.”

  “So?”

  “I don’t know if you noticed, Gia, but there are quite a few girls in the program drooling over Ricky,” Melody says. “If I didn’t have a boyfriend, I’d probably be one of them.”

  This is all annoying information, no doubt. I try not to let them see that I’m stressing this at all, even though I totally am. I reply, “Well, maybe I’ll put on one of those sparkly outfits and come with y’all tonight.”

  Melody shakes her head. “I can’t go out another night in a row. I have to rest. And I’ve got another class this afternoon.”

  “Rest now,” Sienna says. “Party later.”

  “Well, Rashad is waiting for me. So I’m gonna holla back at y’all.”

  Rashad really is standing outside when I emerge wearing my most comfortable sneakers. I was expecting him to be a little annoyed that it took me so long to come downstairs, but if he’s heated, I can’t tell by the way he’s grinning at me.

  “You ready, Princess?”

  “Yep. Take me to Canal Street.”

  Again, we catch the subway to our destination. I’m getting used to swiping my little MetroCard and running through the subway car doors just before they close.

  “Did you bring money?” Rashad asks as we exit the subway station.

  “Some. Why?”

  “Because, trust, you’re gonna want to get your shop on.”

  “Well, why didn’t you say something back at the dorm?”

  “Because we’re supposed to be doing our class assignment.”

  I’m about to give Rashad a serious eye roll, but something else catches my attention. In front of me, right on the sidewalk, is a table full of the flyest purses. They’ve got every name brand, every color, and every style.

  The cute little girl at the table asks, “You like Coach purses?”

  “Yes! How much is this one?” I ask, pointing at a little red clutch.

  “Twenty-five.”

  My eyes bulge right out of my head. “Twenty-five? Get the heck out of here.”

  A Coach bag for twenty-five dollars? Why did Melody not inform me of this bargain shopper’s haven? I love New York!

  “Wait,” I ask. “Is this real?”

  Rashad laughs. “Nothing is real on Canal Street, Gia. You have entered the land of knockoffs.”

  Knockoffs! Boo to this little girl, and quadruple womp on me for thinking I could score a real Coach purse for next to nothing.

  I say to the girl, “Uh, no, thanks. Let’s go, Rashad.”

  Can someone explain to me why dude is still laughing? I know Rashad brought me out here just to have his own little personal laugh fest.

  “What is so funny?” I ask.

  Rashad clutches his side as though he’s trying to make himself stop guffawing. He’s so not doing a good job of it.

  “You. You’re funny. I wish you could’ve seen your face when you found out that bag was fake.”

  “Yeah, well, I hope you got what you needed for your journal entry.”

  “Yes, I did. Thank you.”

  I roll my eyes at Rashad and storm up Canal Street. I’m not even impressed by the cute Baby Phat earrings I see on my left or the guy with a case full of Fossil watches on my right. Rashad has something for his journal entry, but I do too. I’m gonna call it Canal Street—Avenue of Lies.

  “Gia, wait up!”

  I stop marching long enough for Rashad to catch up.

  “You hungry?” he asks when he reaches me.

  “Why? You gonna show me a restaurant with fake food?”

  He chuckles. “No. It’s a really good Vietnamese place you have to try.”

  “I’ve never had Vietnamese food before.”

  “All the more reason why you have to try it. Come on. It’s right down this street.”

  Rashad pulls me into an overly crowded restaurant. There are a lot of non-English conversations going on, but it sounds more like synchronized chaos than noise.

  My stomach grumbles. “It smells great in here. I’m hungry.”

  Rashad laughs. “All that storming up and down the street worked up an appetite, huh?”

  “Boy, please.”

  We get shown to a table close to the door, which is good because the tables are so close together that squeezing to the back would’ve been annoying. The waitress leaves us with menus and slams glasses of water down in front of us.

  “Okay…” I say.

  “I know, the service isn’t the greatest, but the food is really good.”

  I flip the menu over, which is partially in Vietnamese. “So what’s good?”

  “How about the frog legs.”

  “How about no. Don’t play with me, Rashad.”

  “Okay. Try the lemongrass chicken. It’s spicy, just like you.”

  “Don’t know what lemongrass is, but I heard chicken, so I guess it’s safe.”

  My phone buzzes as the waitress takes our order. I let Rashad order everything because he seems to know what he’s doing. Everything on the menu has a number next to it, and Rashad
already knows by heart the numbers of the stuff he wants.

  I try to read my text message without Rashad noticing.

  Talked to Hope. She said u want 2 apologize.

  Are you kidding me? I’m so mad I feel like I’m about to foam at the mouth. First at Hope for feeling the need to meddle, and second at Ricky for sending me this foolishness.

  “It’s rude to text at the table, Gia.”

  “I know. I’m sorry, Rashad.”

  “It’s even ruder to get mad at the text and then not share.”

  “It’s nothing. Just Ricky getting on my nerves again.”

  “That dude. He interrupted my movie date; now he’s moving in on my lunch. What’s the deal with you two anyway? I feel like you aren’t telling me everything.”

  Movie date? What movie date?

  “There’s not much to tell.”

  “Y’all didn’t hook up, did you?”

  “What? How is that your business?”

  I stop short of telling Rashad that Ricky and I are virgins. That is unnecessary information as far as I’m concerned.

  “It’s not my business, but I’m trying to get to know you.”

  “Ricky and I are best friends who started digging one another.”

  “That’s all?”

  “It’s all you need to know,” I say with a wink.

  Our food is finally here, and mine looks good. Rashad ordered some kind of beef and noodle dish for himself. This spot is the bidness, for real.

  Rashad bows his head, grabs my hand, and says a short prayer over our food. Really cool. “Was that okay? I didn’t even ask you. I’m sorry.”

  I let out a little giggle. “I pray, Rashad. That was fine.”

  “Good, ’cause I wasn’t really thinking. I just feel really comfortable around you, I guess.”

  “Same here. My mama would like you too.”

  What is wrong with me? Why did I just say that? Can someone please get me some Kaopectate for my diarrhea of the mouth!

  “Would she like me better than she likes Ricky?”

  “What makes you think she likes him?”

  Rashad laughs. “If she didn’t, you probably wouldn’t be here with him for the summer.”

  “True, true, true. You ought to be an FBI agent with that observation thing you got going.”

  I take a bite of my lemongrass chicken, and a burst of flavor sensations fills my mouth. I don’t care if I sound like a chewing-gum commercial: this food is yummy to infinity.

  “You like?” Rashad asks.

  I nod. “How can you tell?”

  “You close your eyes with every bite. It’s hilarious.”

  “Thank you, Rashad. This is the best meal I’ve had so far in New York City.”

  “See! I told you to trust me. Do you trust me yet?”

  “No comment.”

  “Aw, Princess, you make a brother work hard.”

  So this is a guy putting in work? I can’t say that anyone’s ever put in work trying to get with me. Ricky just kinda eased into his slot. He moved from bestie to crush without any work at all. “No pain, no gain.”

  Rashad throws his head back and laughs out loud. “You’re right.”

  At the end of the meal, the waitress brings our check, and Rashad takes it. “I got it, Princess.”

  “I can pay my own way.”

  “I invited you. I don’t invite a young lady to a meal without paying. It’s called home training.”

  I can get used to the way Rashad treats me. We might not have the history I have with Ricky, but we’ve got something. A connection, a bond…something.

  “Can I take you out on a real date on Friday night, Gia?” Rashad asks as we walk back to the subway terminal.

  “Was this a practice date?” I ask.

  “No. This was a sneak date.”

  “You didn’t have to sneak. I would’ve said yes.”

  Rashad shakes his head. “I don’t believe that. You still haven’t said yes to Friday.”

  “Yes.”

  My answer sounds weird coming out of my mouth. Is saying yes to Rashad moving me even further away from Ricky? If Ricky finds out about this date, he’s going to have a coronary.

  Well, I hope he’ll be mad about me going out with Rashad, because the spot on my face where he kissed me still tingles. I feel selfish about enjoying time with Rashad and not allowing Ricky to do the same.

  “You said yes! Wow, I never thought you would,” Rashad says.

  I nod and look at the ground. I should be happy that one of the finest boys in the program is pushing up on me, but all I can think about is what Ricky will do and feel when he finds out.

  When I get back to the dorm, I send Ricky a text to reply to his earlier one.

  IDK what Hope is talking about. Lata.

  Even if I do want to apologize to Ricky at some point, it’s not about to be now. I mean, how foolish is it that he texts me about me giving him an apology?

  “How was your date?” Melody asks as she emerges from the bathroom.

  “It wasn’t a date. Did you take a nap?”

  “Yes. Sienna wants to go to that teen club in Brooklyn. Everyone is going.”

  “Maybe I’ll roll too.”

  “Please, please, come, Gia. Sienna will probably end up in her boyfriend’s face, and I’ll be left alone.”

  “Do you like to dance?” I ask. “Because I can’t hear music and not dance.”

  “I dance, but I don’t dance hard. Are you one of those girls who sweats her hairstyle out?”

  “Umm, no! But I totally could’ve had a starring role in Save the Last Dance.”

  Melody grins. “Love that movie.”

  “I know, right.”

  “I’ve got to go to class now, but you’d better have an outfit selected for tonight by the time I’m back.”

  “Why do I have to have it selected by then?”

  Melody replies, “Duh, I have to approve it first.”

  Are you kidding me?

  “Ta-ta for now!” Melody says. “Keep it fabulous.”

  After Melody leaves, I plop down onto the bed, ready to take a nap myself. I want to be freshalicious (yes, I totally just made that up) for tonight, especially if Ricky plans on walking up in the spot with some other girls. He needs to see what he’s missing out on. Truth.

  When I lie down, the butterfly clip that Ricky bought me pokes me in the head. I sigh and snatch it out of my hair. I don’t belong to him, or anyone. I’m just me, and I’m going to be friends with whomever I choose.

  “Gia, you look smokin’ hot!” Melody exclaims as I do a little spin.

  “I don’t know about my back being out, though. Is that cool?”

  I brought this blouse from Hope’s closet. It’s got black sequins all over it, and the back is completely out. It looked acceptable on the hanger, but now, I’m not so sure.

  Sienna rolls her eyes. “Yes, it’s cool. It’s not like the top is hoochie or anything. Your whole front is covered.”

  I glance in the mirror. “Well, it looks kinda hoochie to me.”

  “I disagree,” Melody replies. “Plus, those boots are off the chain.”

  “That’s my other issue. Boots are okay in the summertime? With shorts?”

  “All the celebrities do it, girl. Rihanna wears boots all year long,” Sienna explains.

  “But won’t my ankles get hot?”

  “Girl, stop!” Sienna says. “You’ll definitely be making Ricky jealous tonight.”

  “I know, right!” Melody chimes in.

  “I don’t know if I’m trying to make him jealous. I definitely want him to notice me….”

  “And Rashad too?” Sienna asks.

  “Yeah, him too.”

  “Are you done gazing at yourself in the mirror so we can go?” Melody fusses.

  I pull myself away from my own reflection so we can hit the spot. We strut down the hall like we’re walking down Rodeo Drive or something, looking fierce as what!

  Whe
n the elevator door opens, it’s already half full with some girls from upstairs. We squeeze in, though, because we don’t feel like waiting for the next one.

  “Hey, Tracy,” Melody says to one of the girls. “Where are y’all going?”

  Tracy? As in Tracy from ESPN Zone? Hmmm…me no likey.

  “To the teen club in Brooklyn,” Tracy replies. “Y’all too?”

  “Yes, Y’all wanna ride the subway with us?”

  Tracy shakes her head. “No, because we’ve got to wait on our guys.”

  The other two girls with Tracy giggle like they’ve got an inside joke. So I’ve gotta ask, “What is so funny about waiting for boys?”

  “They’re just giggling because I’m going with Ricky Freeman and they think you’ll be angry.”

  I lift an eyebrow. “Why would I be angry?”

  “You’re not? Aren’t you Gia? You’re the one who called when we were at the ESPN Zone, right?”

  “I don’t know what Ricky told you, but he and I are just friends.”

  “Oh. Well, he made it seem like you were crushing on him, that’s all.”

  Okay, so I’m smart enough to know when a girl is running game. I’ve learned game from the best of the best. But it still annoys me that Ricky would have a conversation about me with anyone else. And are they really going to the club together?

  “He’s so silly!” I reply.

  Tracy looks confused, so that means I’ve handled my bidness properly. Can’t have these girls thinking they’ve got me stressed.

  Even if I’m totally stressed.

  When the elevator doors open, Ricky and Xavier are waiting in the lobby. Ricky looks at all of us, with a very uncomfortable look of his own.

  “Hey, Ricky,” I say. “I met your new friend on the elevator. Tracy says you two are going to the teen club together.”

  “Well, not together together. We’re just riding the subway with them,” Ricky explains.

  I turn and cheese at Tracy. “Is that all? Tracy made it sound like a date.”

  “No, I didn’t,” Tracy whispers.

  I lean toward Tracy and cup my hand to my ear. “What was that you said?”

  “I said that I never said it was a date.”

  I shrug. “Oh, I must have heard you wrong. Since you’re all just riding the subway together, we’ll go along too.”