The Break-Up Diaries

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The Break-Up Diaries Page 8

by Ni-Ni Simone


  I laugh out loud. “You sure are feeling yourself.”

  “You know. That’s what us QB-1s do. Ooh, look at that girl checking me out.”

  I look up and see that Dorie is scoping Kellin out. This is hilarious! She’s looking at Kellin like she wants to throw down some serious female mackification (I know this is a made up word. Just roll with me.) even though she’s posted up with her boyfriend, Ethan. Surprisingly, I’m only a little bit jealous. That probably means that Kellin is safely tucked away in friend space, which is exactly where I need him to be.

  “She just wants you because she thinks you’re with me. She likes picking over my leftovers.”

  “Oh, wow! That’s the girl who took your man?”

  “Yeah, one of those irresistible cheerleaders.”

  Kellin checks her out once more and then says. “Well, if you ask me, your boy took a downgrade. She’s not all that.”

  Now I could give Kellin a hug for real! I sooo needed to hear that from an incredibly hot boy. Even if he is just a friend.

  “Maybe he’s realizing that! Maybe that’s why he’s all up in my mix.”

  “True,” Kellin says. “Oh, wait . . . cheerleader girl is coming over here.”

  OMG! I don’t want to have any confrontations with her. Not tonight. I’m not in the mood to be embarrassed.

  Dorie walks right up to us with Ethan following at her heels like a little puppy dog. She looks Kellin up and down. “I know you. QB-1 at Skyline High School.”

  “Yeah, that would be me. Kellin Owens.”

  She snatches his plate away. “This is a Lewisville High party, paid for by our student council. No one said you could bring guests Zoey.”

  Oh, no this heifer didn’t. I feel my body temperature go from cool as a cucumber to hot enough to scald a heifer in two seconds flat.

  “It’s okay,” Kellin says. “I wasn’t really hungry anyway.”

  I snatch another plate and give it to Kellin. “I’ve raised more money than you for student council. I’ve washed cars, delivered orders at Sonic, and sold candy. Back up out of my friend’s face.”

  “Or what? Are you going to throw a bowling ball at me? Or run me over with a go-kart? That’s what you were trying to do, right? Run Mario over with a go-kart. You are psychotic, so maybe I should be afraid.”

  Her voice is so loud that she’s drawing a crowd. My hands start to tremble. This is GoKart Heaven all over again. Why is she putting me on blast? I haven’t done that to her.

  Kellin takes the plate from my hand and sits it down on the buffet. “Come on, Zoey. You don’t have to take this. I know a spot where we can get much better food than these dried up chicken wings. Let’s roll out.”

  I glance over at Cheyenne and Todrick. They’re totally boo-ed up, so they don’t need me at all.

  “Okay, Kellin. I’m game.”

  He whispers in my ear as we walk away from them. “Hold your head up. Don’t cry. She’s not worth it.”

  We pass Kellita on her way back in, and she gives us a sad look. “My baby’s fever spiked,” she says. “I need to go home.”

  Kellin says, “It’s cool, we were going back that way anyhow. Drama.”

  “Drama? With who? Your ex-boyfriend?”

  I shake my head. “No. His new girlfriend.”

  “Where’s she?”

  “Don’t worry about it, Lita. Come on.”

  Kellita looks like she wants to go back into the party and regulate. I think it would be all bad, so I take her arm.

  “Kellita, it’s cool, really. I just want to leave.”

  As we’re walking out the door, Mario runs up behind us. “Why didn’t you tell me, Zoey? Why didn’t you tell me about Dorie’s game?”

  “I know you’re not seriously asking me that question, Mario. You played me, and then you played yourself. I don’t have anything to do with that.”

  Kellin puts one hand on Mario’s chest and pushes him back. “I’m gonna need you to back up a little bit, dude.”

  Mario looks down at Kellin’s hand and then says, “This your bodyguard or something?”

  “No, he’s my friend. Did you break up with her? Did she lose?”

  Mario shakes his head. “No, she didn’t. She won. Apparently, Ethan’s geek found out about the game first, and broke up with him.”

  “That’s so unfortunate . . . but we’re about to get up out of here. I’ll see you at school.”

  I walk away from Mario and the Main Event feeling pretty satisfied with myself for not laughing in Mario’s face or trying to make him feel as bad as he made me feel.

  In the parking lot, Kellin says, “You did great back there, Zoey. You’ve got it going on.”

  “I do? Thanks.”

  “Yeah. If I didn’t have my own drama going on, I might just be trying to get your number. You’re pretty, smart, and classy. The whole package.”

  I don’t respond with words as I get into the backseat of Kellin’s car. I respond with a smile. Who knows if Kellin and I will ever get together? Maybe, maybe not. But I like that the possibility is there.

  What I like even better is that I can think of Mario now, and not cry. And if he tries to get back, I’ve got absolutely no holler for him at all. Sweet!

  I’ve survived! My first boyfriend and my first break up, and I’m still in one piece. A pretty, smart, and classy piece too.

  On to the next one!

  “Let’s roll out,” I say from the backseat. “I’ve got a taste for some chicken!”

  SWAG

  KEVIN ELLIOTT

  1

  W hen I first saw him, he was in front of the C building. He stood in the middle of a crowd of boys, looking real fly. Wavy hair, chocolate skin, nice teeth, with the body of a basketball player. All the other boys laughed at his jokes. The center of attention. He was so sexy! I knew all the other girls at the school must have been thinking the same thing. I didn’t have a chance with him. Besides, he looked like the kind of guy that would break my heart. The kind of guy that my mom wouldn’t approve of. She had told me more than once to quit chasing pretty boys and she hated jocks. She believed all jocks were bad and she wanted to spare me a heartbreak, but mom would have to learn that I have to grow up. While I don’t like getting hurt, I know that’s part of growing up.

  I would find out from my friend Malaka Brown, who walked up to me and said, “DeMarco Mobley likes you.”

  I said, “Who?” That name sounded familiar, but I didn’t know who that was until she pointed to the same boy that I had been looking at earlier. How crazy is that?

  “Him, over there.” She pointed to my dream man who stood in front of the main building this morning, with the crowd of boys. Still the center of attention. Malaka had to be lying. There was no way that boy wanted me, he could have anybody he wanted. He had to have a girlfriend; there was no way he didn’t have a girlfriend. I couldn’t believe that.

  Candace, my best friend since kindergarten, said, “I heard he lives in the valley with his brothers. Heard his mother died.”

  I just wondered how everybody knew who this guy was and I didn’t. How did I overlook Mr. Milk Chocolate?

  Malaka was popping gum and blowing huge bubbles. It was so annoying that ordinarily I would say something about it, but I wanted to hear more about how DeMarco wanted me.

  “Yeah, I was walking past his boys and ’em and he was talking about how sexy you are,” Malaka said.

  I smiled. “They were talking about me?”

  “Yes, Zori, but it wasn’t them, it was him. DeMarco, he was the one that said you were fine.”

  “Really?” I said. I didn’t want to seem too excited. Funny how God works. I was just thinking about what it would be like to be his girlfriend. Walking hand and hand with Mr. Fine, making all the little chicken heads mad because he picked me. Mad because I was wearing his letterman jacket, assuming he had one. He sure looked like an athlete. Mad because I had the tallest, best looking boy in the whole school. Well, at least in my
eyes.

  “Zori, you know you want to smile.”

  I tried hard not to, but a wide smile covered my face. How real is that? If I didn’t smile, my girls knew I would be faking.

  Malaka said, “So, are you gonna talk to him?

  “Mom said never to chase a boy. Let them do the chasing and besides, if he wants me, he knows where I’m at.”

  “Your mama obviously hasn’t seen DeMarco Mobley,” Malaka said.

  I looked over at DeMarco and the boys again. Our eyes met briefly before I turned away. I didn’t want him to catch me staring, but at the same time, I wanted him to know I was interested. I cast a quick glance at him again, hoping my eyes gave him the okay to make his move.

  “I heard he sells packs,” Malaka said.

  “Packs of what?”

  Malaka laughed. “You know packs, like in drugs. He’s a drug dealer, I swear you girls are so square.” I hated when Malaka said that. Her tone made it seem as though me and Candace were naive. Malaka was from the hood, but she didn’t act ghetto. She actually made really good grades and she’d vowed that she would be the first person in her family to go to college. But I had to admit she was a little bit more street smart than me. I was more street smart than Candace, but that wasn’t saying much. Paris Hilton was more street smart than Candace. Though she was my best friend, Candace could be very uppity at times. She only dated boys who came from a twoparent home. Said she wanted somebody with the same values that she had and she wasn’t going to compromise.

  “Really?” Candace said. “That’s a shame. Looks like he just blew his chance with my girl, because there is no way we’re going to get caught up in that kind of foolishness.” She glanced at me. Candace waited on me to agree with her. I didn’t. I didn’t know if that was true. As far as I was concerned, it was a rumor.

  “Yeah. I mean, look at how fly he always is. He always has the latest shoes, the flyest gear. Those True Religions he’s wearing cost like three hundred dollars. Two hundred dollar sneakers. His watch looks like it cost about a thousand dollars. What seventeen-year-old can afford clothes like that?”

  “Maybe his parents have money.”

  “His mom died and his two older brothers are drug dealers.”

  My mom would kill me if I dated a hustler. I hoped that he wasn’t, but then there was a part of me that hoped that he did hustle. It was something about the life that thrilled me.

  Malaka popped her gum loudly, grabbing my attention. I wished she hadn’t spoken about DeMarco in front of Candace. I knew Candace wouldn’t tell my mom, but if I hooked up with DeMarco, I knew she would try her best to break us up. She would hate on me especially if I got any gifts from him. Thinking of my future gifts from DeMarco made me think of Michelle Agurs, a girl from my track team who often received money and gifts from her hustling boyfriend. Girls in my neighborhood didn’t do that—they were goody two-shoes. Our parents had told us to go out with nice boys. The kind who opened doors for us. The kind who said yes sir and no sir. Not disrespectful guys and not wannabe gangsters.

  Once, when me and Mom were at Home Depot, we ran across one of my classmates, Jeremy Jones. I was hoping that he wouldn’t see us, but I’m never that lucky. Not only did he see me, he came right up to me.

  “That’s yo mama?”

  “Yeah, Jeremy.”

  “Yo mama fine as hell.”

  I almost choked when he said that, but it didn’t surprise me because of the way he acted in school. But Mom was in total shock, looking at me in total disbelief. In her day, boys didn’t act like that. They would never curse in front of someone’s parents and most of my friends wouldn’t either, but Jeremy was from the projects. Not all project kids acted like that, but Jeremy had been a juvenile delinquent since he was fourteen. He had got sent away to a boy’s home for thirty days for assaulting some white kids, and ever since, he’d been in and out of trouble. He liked me for a while, even came to my house a time or two, but I had never let him meet my mom for fear of how he would act. He confirmed my fear when he saw me in Home Depot that day, acting exactly how I knew he would act. Mom said later she wanted to slap the taste out of Jeremy’s mouth.

  I looked down at my phone: It was Jay, and it was the third time he’d called this morning. I sent him to voice mail. My mom glanced at my phone, being nosey. “Who keeps calling you back to back like that?”

  “Jay.”

  Mom smiled. She liked Jay, thought he was a nice boy. Wanted me to date him. I liked him too, but Jay just didn’t have the edge I wanted in a boyfriend. He couldn’t dress. Just didn’t have swagger. Even so, I’d gone out with him twice. He was real courteous and respectful. I knew he was a decent person and an ambitious guy, but he just didn’t excite me. Didn’t do it for me.

  “So what does he want?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t answer, remember?”

  She frowned. “Why didn’t you answer him? He must wanna tell you something important. I think you should at least answer the phone.”

  “I’ll call him back later.”

  She shook her head. “I’m telling you Jay’s a keeper.”

  I hated when she talked like that. I’m only sixteen. I’m not thinking about settling down, and if I were, it sure wouldn’t be with Jay.

  “Mom, can you just cut it out?”

  “I’m just saying he’s a nice boy with a good future ahead of him.”

  “How do you know he has a good future? Nobody knows the future.”

  “Zori, you getting smart with me?”

  “I’m just saying can I pick the person I want to date?”

  “What happened to that other boy you dated? The one that drove the blue Honda Accord?”

  “Malik?”

  “Yeah, I liked him, too.” I sighed. “Dude only had like two pair of shoes.”

  Mom busted out a loud laugh. “You are so superficial.”

  I turned my head and rolled my eyes. I knew from experience that if she saw me rolling my eyes at her, there’d be serious trouble. She was always saying I was superficial, but she made me that way. I got my first Louis bag when I was fourteen and my Daddy had always said never date a guy who had less than me. They were the culprits, not me.

  2

  I was walking down the hall at school when somebody grabbed my booty. I spun around, prepared to smack back. Nobody touches this booty. But when I turned, I saw his tall chocolate fine self. His braids were like black snakes on his head, falling perfectly on his shoulder. When he smiled, I almost forgot that he’d practically violated me with that booty grab. I managed to say, “What’s your problem?”

  His smile widened. “You know you liked that.”

  “Is that how you approach girls?”

  “The ones I like.”

  It took all my power to hold back my smile. He said he liked me!

  He pulled his iPhone from his book bag. “What’s your phone number?”

  “Don’t you want to know my name?”

  “Come on, shorty. Cut it out. I know your name and you know mine.”

  I laughed. “What makes you so sure?”

  “I’m popular, and you’re one of the finest chicks at this school.”

  I liked this dude’s swag. So confident, almost cocky, and a little arrogant. I almost felt like doing whatever he said. Almost. “Hey, before we go any further, apologize for grabbing my butt.”

  He laughed and looked me in the eyes. “Are you serious?”

  “Of course I am.”

  “OK, shorty. I’m sorry.”

  “Cut the ‘shorty’ stuff out.”

  “Now you tripping—that’s just the way I talk.”

  I had him hooked, so I gave him my number. “Call me before ten on school days.”

  “What, you gotta curfew?” He laughed.

  “No, I have a lot more on my mind than talking on the phone. I have to get my rest. I’m not trying to come to school all tired.”

  The moment I stepped in the door, Jay called again. “Jay, w
hat’s up?”

  “Been trying to reach you.”

  “Yeah, I’ve been kind of busy. Lots of homework, you know.”

  “Well, you know you can ask me if you ever need any help with anything.”

  I knew what he said was true. Jay was smart and he was taking advanced classes as well. Even though he was a very nice guy, I didn’t want to be alone with Jay. I didn’t want him to get the wrong idea.

  “Thanks for the offer, Jay. I will keep that in mind.”

  “No problem.”

  Okay, so now I’m wondering why he called and if I can get him off the phone quickly. “What’s up?”

  There was an awkward silence over the phone and that’s one thing that I hated about our conversations. They were full of awkward silences. It made me bored with him. It was like he didn’t know what to say, or if he did know what to say, he sure wasn’t saying it. Almost like I made him nervous and I didn’t like nervousness—confidence turned me on. DeMarco Mobley turned me on. Finally, I said again, “Jay, what’s up?”

  “Well, I just wondering if you would go to the Christmas dance with me.”

  “The Christmas dance?” I squeaked out. I knew what he was talking about, but I had to buy time. Had to think of a reason that I couldn’t go. I could tell him somebody had asked me already, but that would hurt his feelings . . . and he would see that I was lying because I wouldn’t be there. Maybe I should tell him that I didn’t have a thing to wear.

  “Yeah, I talked to my Dad, asked him if he would rent a limo. He said he would.”

  Dang it, if his daddy went through the trouble of getting a limo, I knew that he could easily persuade him to buy me a dress. My lie about not having a thing to wear would not work and Jay knew my mom. He knew she could easily buy me a dress. I couldn’t think of an excuse to give him. No legitimate excuse.

  “A limo to the Christmas dance. Nobody rents a limo to the Christmas dance, Jay. This ain’t the Prom.”

  “Not everybody can take a dime like you to the dance. You deserve the best.”

 

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