Cool Like That

by Nikki Carter

I slick my dark pro style gel on the front of my ponytail, tie it down with a scarf and jump into the shower. The warm water feels good splashing my body. I close my eyes and imagine myself wearing that red and black Hi-Steppers uniform and the cute white boots with the tassels on the front. The thought makes me smile.

  I can do this.

  After my shower is done, on goes my jeans and on goes my boy Tweety. A lot of people think that Tweety is a girl, but he is a boy. Right now, Tweety is my boyfriend. Anyway, I don’t care what Hope says, I’m wearing my shirt and I’m wearing my ponytail. I top off my whole look with a short jean jacket and gold hoop earrings.

  It’s a good look—well, as good as I can come up with on my limited budget.

  The horn on my uncle’s Benz tells me that it’s time to go. I take one last look in the mirror, slick some baby hair (or baby hurrr if you’re from the south) on my forehead, and give a little pat to my afro puff.

  I’m not really mad at Hope for suggesting that I flatiron my hair. It always looks great when I do, but my hair is long and thick and as soon as I take one step out the door and into the humidity—it’s back to the giant curlfro. So, until I can break Gwendolyn down and convince her that a relaxer is very necessary, I’m rockin’ rough and tough with my afro puff.

  On the way out the door, I grab a snack-size bag of Doritos. Do Doritos count as cereal? They’re made out of corn, so I’m thinking maybe.

  I open the door, take a deep breath, and smile up at the sun. Even though it’s September, it still feels like summer. All that will change in a month or so, because here in Cleveland we get snow in October.

  “Gia! Quit soaking up the sun and come on!”

  I squint angrily at Hope, who has her window rolled down and her shiny lips puckered. “I’m coming!”

  I run down the raggedy walkway and, as usual, trip over a loose piece of gravel. I don’t fall, but I do drop my book bag and spill out some of my folders. I don’t know what it is, but lately, I’ve been super clumsy. It feels like I can trip over air sometimes. It’s just something else about me that drives Hope crazy.

  Hope gets out of the car to help me. She rolls her eyes at me and says, “Dang, Gia. If you can’t even walk to the car, how do you think you’re going to be a Hi-Stepper?”

  “Whatever, Hope.”

  I roll my eyes right back at her, snatch my book bag, and get into the car. I could’ve said so much more than “Whatever.” Like the fact that Hope has no rhythm and how she can’t even snap her fingers and step at the same time, so how does she think she can be a Hi-Stepper? I’m gonna leave it alone, but she better not make me go there.

  “Good morning, Gia,” my uncle says.

  “Hi, Pastor.”

  Okay, I see the question mark on your face, so let me explain. My uncle Robert is also my pastor. I never call him Uncle Robert, even though he’s my favorite uncle. Everybody calls him Pastor Stokes or just Pastor, even my mom, and he’s her little brother.

  Hope gets back into the car too, and slams her door. “Gia, I thought I asked you not to wear one of those Tweety T-shirts.”

  Pastor Robert answers for me. “Hope, you are not the boss of Gia. She can wear whatever she wants.”

  Hope whines, “But, Daddy! She is going to embarrass me. We are trying out for the Hi-Steppers today and she comes out the house looking a mess.”

  I shout from the backseat, “I don’t look a mess!”

  “You’re right. You don’t look a mess—you look a hot mess,” Hope hisses. “You did this on purpose.”

  “Whatever, Hope! You act like I’m thinking about you when I pick out my clothes. I’m just that into you, right?” I say sarcastically.

  “You are that into me! Obviously. You only wanted to be a Hi-Stepper after you heard I was trying out. Why don’t you get your own thing?”

  “Hi-Stepping is not your thing. If you had a thing it wouldn’t be Hi-Stepping! It would be looking in the mirror all day counting your pimples!”

  Hope cries, “Daddy!”

  I can’t believe that Hope used to be my favorite cousin. We had “Best Friend” everything—bracelets, necklaces, earrings, folders, and purses. But something happened when we got to ninth grade at Longfellow High School. All of a sudden, she was ashamed to be seen with me because my mom couldn’t afford to buy me Baby Phat and Juicy Couture.

  The summer before we entered the ninth grade, Hope’s mom, Elena, gave her a makeover. She took her to the salon and got her hair straightened and her eyebrows waxed. When my mother saw Hope’s new look, all she said was, “She looks grown and fast. No daughter of mine is going to look like that.”

  I think the fact that I’m growing up scares my mom. She had me when she was seventeen, and she thinks that I might end up like her.

  She’s got me messed up.

  Ain’t no way in the world I want a baby or an STD. A sista like me is going to college, for real. You feel me? Plus, I see how hard my mom has it and I’m not trying to go through that too.

  Besides, right now, I don’t even exist to boys.

  I keep wondering when puberty is going to start for me. Hope has been wearing a bra since we were in the sixth grade. I still don’t need one, although I wear one on principle. I can’t wear an undershirt in the tenth grade.

  When we pull up in front of our school, Hope quickly dashes out of the car so that she doesn’t have to walk into the audition with me. I fight back the tears that want to come, because there is no way I’m going to let her see how much she hurts me.

  Pastor Robert turns around in his seat. “Don’t worry, Niecey. I’ve always liked your T-shirt collection, and your hair is unique. Hope doesn’t know everything.”

  “Thank you, Pastor. See you later, crocodile.”

  “Bye, alligator.”

  That’s an ongoing joke between us. When I was little I couldn’t get that “See you later, alligator, in a while, crocodile” saying right. I always said, “Bye, bye, alligator.” My uncle is so cool, even though he is a pastor. He goes out of his way to be a father figure for me because my dad is not around.

  As I walk over to the gymnasium, where the auditions are being held, I see my friend Ricardo waving at me. I wave back and smile. Ricardo being there (even though he’s supposed to be at football practice) makes me feel so much better.

  “Hey, Ricky. Does Coach Rogers know you’re here?”

  “Yeah, he said it was cool,” Ricky replies. “Plus, I’m not starting this week anyway.”

  “Seriously? Why not?”

  He shrugs his broad shoulders. “Some college scouts are coming to see Lance. He could get a scholarship.”

  Everybody, including Coach Rogers, knows that Ricky should be the starting quarterback for the Longfellow Spartans. But since he’s only a sophomore, he doesn’t get to play as often as he should. Their senior sensation, Lance Rogers, is the coach’s son, so you already know what it is.

  “What about the college scouts seeing you?”

  Ricky says, “God is going to open a door for me, Gi-Gi. Don’t worry about it. Right now, you need to get your head in the game and remember that step we came up with.”

  Ricardo’s older brother, Jordan, is in college and in a fraternity. We used some moves from the Q-dog step show and hooked up a slammin’ routine for my audition. Now, I just have to get it right.

  Ricky and I walk confidently into the audition. He sits at the top of the bleachers with the other spectators, and I sit in the front row where the other future Hi-Steppers are waiting. Hope pretends to not see me come in.

  Hope’s friend, Valerie, who is captain of the Hi-Steppers, smiles at me. I smile back and try to make it not look super fake. I know she only pays me any attention because she likes Ricardo. A lot of the girls here are nice to me for that very same reason.

  What they don’t know is that Ricky would never holler at any of them. He’s saved and wants to be a virgin when he gets married, after college. Some girls think that’s weird for a guy, but not me
. These little trifling girls are always writing notes about the nasty things they want to do to him, but he’s not even on that. Plus, two years ago, when he had braces on his teeth, thick glasses instead of contacts, and more bumps on his face than a pizza has pepperoni, none of these girls even said hello. Especially not Valerie.

  Hope is the first one up to audition. She hands Valerie a tape with her music on it and then walks to the center of the gym. Hope looks really scared, but she’s smiling anyway.

  The music starts and Hope does her little routine. It’s obvious that Valerie helped her choreograph it because there are a few signature Hi-Stepper moves that Hope could never have thought of on her own. If she smiles any harder I think her face might crack and all her icy pink lip gloss will run down her shirt. Seriously, Hope looks like she tripped and fell lips first into a tub of Vaseline. She finishes and takes a bow, and all of her friends hug her as she comes to sit down.

  I’ve got to admit that it was better than I’d expected. Much better. Hope might actually have the potential of being a decent Hi-Stepper. She gets on my nerves, but I gotta give props where props are due.

  After a few really, really bad auditions, it’s finally my turn. I give Valerie my tape and walk to the center of the gym with a cane in my hand. The cane was Ricky’s idea.

  The drumbeat of Destiny’s Child’s “Lose My Breath” blares from the speakers and I start my complicated routine. My stomps and claps are perfect, and everybody gets pumped when I tap my cane, toss it in the air and catch it with ease.

  When I’m done, I get a standing ovation from the entire Hi-Steppers squad. Ricardo is also yelling and clapping like he’s lost his mind. This is a good moment—the stuff of legends. Okay, maybe not legends, but it’s really, really great!

  From It Is What It Is

  1

  Are bridesmaid dresses supposed to itch?

  I’m asking because my mom, Gwen, has me standing in front of the church wearing a ridiculous amount of pink taffeta and some other material that’s making me itch. I close one eye and try to concentrate on making the itch disappear, because it’s in the center of my back, right where I can’t reach it.

  The concentration isn’t working, so I shift my shoulders in little circles trying to reach the itch with the zipper on my dress.

  “Gia, will you stop it?” hisses my cousin, Hope. “Auntie Gwen is gonna get you when she sees you squirming on her wedding video.”

  She’s right. Gwen will be heated. But it’s her own fault. She shouldn’t have picked outfits that make us look like Destiny’s Child backup dancers. All of this shining and glistening is a bit extra if you ask me. The only good thing about this dress is that it amps up my miniature curves. Yes, I have officially gone from skinny to slim. You don’t know the difference? Well, boo to you. The distance from skinny to slim is about the same as the distance from thick to plump. Marinate on it.

  Even though I’m sixteen and on my way into the eleventh grade, this is Gwen’s first wedding. She met a guy at our church named Elder LeRon Ferguson and they really hit it off. Even the pastor (who is also my uncle) was happy about them getting together. On the real, I think the only two people not happy about this whole blessed affair are me and Elder LeRon’s daughter, Candy.

  Don’t get it twisted, I want my mother to be happy, get a man and all that, but I just thought it would all take place after I was grown. I am so not in the mood for a new daddy and a bratty little sister who will probably make my life miserable.

  But if Gwen is going to be upset ’cause I’m trying to scratch my itch, then she’s gonna be extra heated when she sees Candy on video. She practically stomped down the aisle and didn’t even hold her flower bouquet up in front of her. She let her arms drop to her sides and mean-mugged the video guy all the way to the front of the church.

  This itch is really starting to drive me nuts. This whole wedding ceremony thing is taking forever, too! Gwen had to go all out and have three flower girls and a miniature bride. I mean, for real, is all that even necessary?

  As the third flower girl marches up the aisle throwing flowers everywhere but on the floor in front of her, Hope leans forward and whispers, “There’s Ricky.”

  We both smile at my best friend Ricardo. Umm…yeah…survey says no. Hope needs to pause all of that action immediately. She’s been lightweight digging Ricky ever since Homecoming of last year. And that’s only because he got upgraded to “hot” status by Longfellow High’s resident vixen, Valerie. She’s the captain of the Hi-Steppers dance squad and not exactly my favorite person.

  Ricky smiles back at us and waves. Even though I’m standing in the front of the church, I can tell he’s looking real fresh and real clean. My mom would say he looks dapper in his church suit and tie. But I ain’t Gwen, and dapper is a word for those old movies.

  I know what you’re thinking, and the answer is no! Ricky is just my friend, not my boyfriend. Gwen is dead set against me dating until I’m in college. This is not an exaggeration either. I totally wish I was exaggerating.

  Finally, Gwen starts marching up the center aisle of the church. It’s about time! When the entire congregation turns to watch her, I take my bouquet and try to scratch my back with the little plastic holder thingy.

  My mom looks real pretty, kinda like me but older. She’s grinning from ear to ear as everyone takes pictures of her. Since her only close male family member is her brother—my uncle, Pastor Stokes—she decided to walk down the aisle alone.

  When I asked if Pastor was going to give her away, these were her exact words: “I’m a grown woman, and I belong to God. I’m giving myself away.”

  Oh the bluntness.

  I am glad when Gwen makes her way up the three little steps to stand in front of Pastor and next to Elder LeRon. She looks real fly in her off-the-shoulder bridal gown that Hope and I helped her pick out. Aunt Elena helped too, but she’s my uncle’s wife and Gwen isn’t really feeling her all like that.

  Pastor Stokes starts up with his standard wedding sermon. He’s talking about love, forgiveness, and all kinds of stuff I don’t need to worry about right now. My new stepsister, Candy, sighs loudly like she’s bored out of her mind. But Gwen gives her some serious I-will-cut-you-if-you-mess-up-my-wedding-day side eye and she pulls herself together quickly.

  After the vows are exchanged, and Elder LeRon kisses my mom, the ceremony ends, although we have to stand up here letting everyone in the church hug and kiss us. I am so not feeling that. I’ve got about fifty different shades of lipstick smeared on my face, and everyone’s breath is not fresh. I mean, if you’re gonna eat an onion and pickle sandwich you can at least respect the personal space perimeter or get yourself some extra-strength Altoids. For real.

  Speaking of people who don’t respect personal space, clammy-hands Kevin is standing in line with his grandparents. Kevin has been in love with me for like ever, and trust, it is completely against my will. And why did he just wink at me? Boy, bye!

  “Here comes your boyfriend,” teases Hope.

  Candy overhears and scrunches up her nose. “That’s your boyfriend? You have horrible taste.”

  “Kevin is not my boyfriend,” I argue. “Hope is the one who went out on a date with him.”

  Hope pinches the back of my arm and frowns. She would love to forget her “date” with Kevin. It was really supposed to be my first date with Romeo, a football player at Longfellow High. But Hope was in straight hater mode and invited herself on my date. That’s why she ended up chilling with Kevin for the evening. Let’s just say that was not a fun outing for Hope.

  Actually, though, even though Kevin is the opposite of everything fab, he is a whole lot better than Romeo. Months have gone by, but I’m still somewhat irritated about how Romeo played me. You don’t just get over a boy taking you out on a date and leaving you stranded at the beach, just because you won’t get freaky with him.

  I know that Jesus would forgive him, but I’m still getting there, okay?

  K
evin finally makes it through the line and hugs everyone, including me. “Gia, you look really pretty.”

  “Thank you, Kevin,” I reply with a tight smile.

  I almost said something smart, but I’m practicing accepting compliments graciously. And if I do say so myself, outside of this pink, frilly monstrosity, I do look kinda hot! My hair is especially fresh because Gwen gave me a two-stranded twist-out.

  I see you giving me a blank stare, so let me explain. My mom washed my hair and then put cream and gel in and twisted it down my back until it dried. Then she untwisted it and let the waves hang down on one side and pinned it up in the back.

  Yeah, reread that and take a mental picture. Just trust me, okay? It’s fly.

  Next in the line is Ricky. Hope reaches ahead of me and hugs my best friend. I think I need to keep saying that, because Hope doesn’t seem to understand. She’s trying my patience.

  Then Ricky hugs me too. “Are we going skating after the reception?”

  “You know it!” I reply and give my boy a high-five.

  Hope frowns at me. “Do you think you could act like a lady for five minutes?”

  I roll my eyes at Hope and ask Ricky, “Can you scratch my back?”

  “Gia!” exclaims Hope.

  Ricky and I crack up laughing because we know this irritates Hope. Hope and I have only recently renewed our BFF status. We went through some drama during our freshman and sophomore years, but we’re cool now.

  Even though we’re friends again, we have very different ideas on what is fab and what isn’t fab. Hope thinks that wearing designer clothes and making sure her lip gloss matches her purse is fly. The only matching I do is to make sure I have on two of the same socks. Outside of that, it’s a free-for-all.

  Finally, it’s time to head over to the church social hall for the wedding reception. Gwen got Sister Benjamin, from the kitchen ministry at church, to cater, and I’m getting super hungry thinking about her fried chicken and sugar yams. I’m about to get my serious grub on.

  Hope, Candy, and I sit at the wedding-party table waiting for our food to be brought by the servers. I’m in chill mode, but Candy is looking like a straight hater with her arms crossed and her face pulled into a haterific frown.