Get Over It

by Nikki Carter

  Bethany rolls her eyes. “All right, I get it. It’s none of my business. I’m just asking because I’ve never seen any two people more perfect for each other than y’all.”

  It takes everything in me not to burst into laughter in Bethany’s face. Did she forget how we fell out behind Sam, how she felt like she saw him first and that she had dibs on him? Since when did she believe we were perfect for each other? This is news to me.

  “I know what you’re thinking, Sunday. “That was a long time ago.”

  “That was less than a year ago.”

  “But in teen years, that’s like forever. I’ve had so many loves and losses since I thought I was feeling Sam.”

  “Oh, really? More than Dilly?”

  She rolls her eyes at the mention of his name. “That boy is just straight-up immature. I don’t know what I ever saw in him.”

  “Okay . . .”

  “Anyway, we’re not talking about him. We’re talking about you and Sam. He’s not going anywhere, you know. Anywhere you go, he’s going too.”

  “What makes you say that? Sam is about getting his own paper.”

  “ ’Cause I heard Epsilon tried to give him an exclusive deal, where he didn’t do any work for Evan’s artists, and he turned it down.”

  I shake my head. “Ummm, duh! Me, you, and Dreya are his biggest-selling artists to work with. Why would he do that?”

  “I guess you’re right. But I still think he did it because he loves you.”

  “Whatever! That’s a stretch, Bethany. You’re living inside a romantic comedy right now.”

  She giggles. “Totally. He’s like Bradley Cooper and you’re Jennifer Aniston. . . .”

  “No, ma’am! I am Sanaa Lathan and he’s Omar Epps.”

  “Right! Love and Basketball!”

  Both of us laugh out loud at this. Sam and I are kind of like that movie though. We keep falling in and out of like with each other. I don’t know where we even are right now.

  “What did your mother think about Dreya getting married in Vegas?” Bethany asks.

  “You already know she went into straight-up trip-out mode.”

  “For real? What did she say?”

  “She started calling Evan the devil, pleading the blood of Jesus and shouting hallelujah. It felt like I was getting cussed out, and catching the Holy Spirit at the same time.”

  Bethany laughs some more. “Man. I sure miss your mother.”

  “You can always drop by and see her. She would love that. She says no one visits her anymore.”

  “She wouldn’t want to see me. You’re just trying to make me feel good.”

  “For real! She asks about you all the time and she fusses at me for not bringing you around.”

  “Well, you should bring me around more!”

  “I should!”

  We’re quiet for a moment. Bethany and I haven’t been close in a while, but she’s still my girl, and I definitely want her to blow up, and find a guy to fall in love with. She’s not been lucky in love, at all.

  The waitress leaves our bill on the table, and Bethany snatches it up before I do. “It’s on me today. Next time, you can take me for Japanese food. I’ll let you know when I have a taste for it.”

  This makes me laugh. “You’ll tell me?”

  “Well, yeah! This isn’t going to be our last lunch outing, I hope.”

  “No, it won’t.”

  “Good, because I could really use a friend right now.”

  Bethany opens her purse to get her wallet and a prescription bottle of pills rolls out and across the table. I pick it up to hand it back to her, and she quickly snatches it out of my hand.

  “Bethany . . .”

  “It’s nothing. I had a root canal.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay,” Bethany says, mimicking my words with a smile that looks like it has some other emotion than happiness underneath.

  “Call me any time, Bethany. Even if you’re not in the mood for Japanese food.”

  Bethany’s eyes fill with tears, but she blinks them away and puts on a brave face. “Okay, I will. I might even come visit you at your sorority house.”

  I walk up to the counter with Bethany to pay the bill. After she’s done we hug in Busy Bee’s tiny, crowded parking lot. She holds on to me so tightly that I can feel her tremble. I hug her back, hoping she can feel my sincerity.

  My mother always taught me and Dreya to never leave family behind. Well, there might be a lot of old that went down between me and Bethany, but we’re still family. And not that fake family stuff Evan’s talking about. For-real family.

  And no matter what, I’m not gonna leave her behind.

  12

  Somehow, I’ve let Gia talk me into going to a spoken word event in a little hole-in-the-wall spot near campus with her and Hope. Piper had some outing with her Gamma Phi Gamma friends, where she probably will have to recite the alphabet backward, eat cat food, and do whatever other hazing activities Peony can come up with.

  I didn’t even know what to wear. It’s super warm tonight, so I opted for a little black mini dress, some heels, and a colorful scarf for my neck. Hope is wearing a snug red skirt with a little ruffle around it coupled with a black tank top. She’s got this little black fedora on top of her slick, straight tresses and ridiculously high heels that I could never even walk in.

  Gia is putting us both to shame with her look. Her afro is picked out in its curly glory, but braided up on one side with a flower pinned close to her ear. Her dress is a rainbow of colors and a collage of shapes. It’s a dress that makes everyone stop and stare when we walk into the club, but I think Gia only wants to get one person’s attention tonight.

  Even though it’s small, this place has an intimate vibe that I actually like. The air smells of ginger, sage, and sandalwood—masculine and inviting. The lights are dim and it’s pretty packed, but not loud. The little groups of college students barely speak above a whisper. Everything about this place is mellow.

  “Is Rashad performing?” I ask.

  “Yep. You’re finally going to get to hear him.”

  Hope says, “He’s really good, Sunday.”

  “There he is!” Gia points and waves at Rashad.

  Rashad flashes a beautiful megawatt smile in our direction and waves back. He’s wearing a fitted silver T-shirt and jeans. That shirt isn’t leaving any of his muscles to the imagination. I guess if Gia can’t have Ricky, Rashad is an acceptable substitute, at least in the looks department.

  He walks over to us and gives Gia a warm hug and a kiss on the cheek. She blushes and cheeses hard.

  “You came!” Rashad says. “And you brought your friends.”

  “Of course we did. So please tell me you saved us seats.”

  “Come on. I’ve got some seats for you.”

  Rashad leads us to a table where we see a couple of familiar faces. Sharday, Millicent, Peony, Noelle, and Piper. A table full of Gammas and Gamma wannabes.

  “Gia, Sunday, and Hope, meet my friends Millicent and Sharday. I’m afraid I don’t know your other friends’ names.”

  Sharday says, “Rashad, we know each other already! Gia is the Gamma Girl choreographer.”

  Rashad looks surprised. “Gia! I didn’t take you for a sorority girl.”

  “Um, I’m choreographing their step for the Spring Fest. That is all.”

  “We’re still working on her,” Sharday says.

  We take a seat at the table. The first thing I do is look at the menu. I don’t know what kind of food they have here, but I hope it’s yummy. I’m starved!

  “So this is where you were going?” I say to Piper. “We could’ve all ridden together in the same car.”

  “If she’s gonna be a Gamma Girl, then she’s got to bond with the Gammas,” Peony says, “although, I don’t think it’s necessarily possible for her to do that.”

  “Why not?” Sharday asks.

  “Not enough melanin!” Peony replies.

  Millicent an
d Peony seem to think that this is hilarious, only Piper’s not laughing.

  “I’m just joking!” Peony says. “Y’all stop staring at me like I have a horn growing out of my head.”

  That’s not how I’m staring at her. Actually, I think a horn growing out of her head might be an improvement.

  “How is the practicing going?” Gia asks. “Are you guys ready to move on to the end of the step?”

  Sharday says, “I think we are. There’s a couple of girls that aren’t ever going to get it, so we’re gonna ask them to sit out. Stepping isn’t for everyone.”

  “One of them is your friend Meagan,” Millicent says and then covers her mouth to giggle.

  “I knew she was a lost cause from the first time I saw her step,” Gia says. “I’m glad y’all aren’t gonna make me tell her she can’t do it.”

  Noelle and Piper exchange looks, but they don’t say anything. I guess neither of them want to be punished or embarrassed tonight. They are out in public.

  Hope says, “I can’t wait until it’s my turn to pledge Gamma Phi Gamma. I will proudly wear the turquoise and white.”

  “I haven’t seen you around campus,” Sharday says.

  “I don’t go to Spelman. I’m at Georgia State. The chapter on our campus isn’t accepting freshmen.”

  “We typically don’t, but we’ve got a lot of graduating seniors this spring. We’ve got to have a certain number to do our events,” Millicent says.

  Gia looks at me and rolls her eyes. When she started helping the Gamma Girls choreograph, she probably didn’t think they’d get on her nerves as bad. But, I could tell from the first rehearsal that those girls are extra.

  “The Georgia State chapter is a lot bigger than ours, so it should be fun. Good luck,” Sharday says.

  “You’re Gamma material,” Peony says to Hope. “Let me know if you need a recommendation.”

  “You’d do that for me?” Hope asks.

  “Sure! You’re exactly the type of young black woman that our predecessors had in mind when they founded our great sisterhood. We are young, gifted, and black. We are proud of our heritage, and we want to leave our mark on the world. Apprentices! Repeat after me. We are young. We are gifted. We are black.”

  Noelle bites her lip and looks at Piper, who is nearly trembling. Both girls speak. “We are young. We are gifted. We are black.”

  Peony laughs out loud. “How silly of me. You aren’t black. But it doesn’t have the same impact if you say you’re young, gifted, and white!”

  “Why do y’all still have to have the black part on the end?” I ask. “Why can’t you just be young and gifted?”

  “Oh, she can be young and gifted all day and all night, but this sorority stands for what black women were never allowed to do, and that is stand proud!” Peony says.

  Now that Peony’s made everyone uncomfortable, someone needs to change the subject. I guess it’ll have to be me.

  “So how do y’all know Rashad?” I ask.

  Millicent beams. “He and I started dating at the beginning of the school year. He’s incredible, and hot.”

  “You’re dating?” Gia asks.

  Peony laughs out loud. “If you want to call hooking up three times a week dating.”

  Gia’s jaw drops. “Wow. He never mentioned that.”

  “And why would he mention that to you?” Millicent asks. “Rashad is much too classy a dude to kiss and tell.”

  Gia seems to recover, and then she smiles. “You’re right. He is, and of course, we’re not that close. We’re only friends.”

  Hope kicks me under the table, and I know why. We’re going to have to deal with Gia at home later, and it’s not going to be pretty. This is just not our year for boys! Maybe Gia and I should just give up and wait until sophomore year and start fresh. Maybe then, the guys will be older and wiser. And maybe we will be too.

  On the way home from the spoken word club, we drive in silence at first. Neither Hope nor I want to bring up what happened in there. We definitely don’t plan to bring up the R word.

  “Y’all can stop acting like I’m gonna have a nervous breakdown,” Gia says.

  “What do you mean?” I ask. “I’m super tired.”

  Hope yawns and stretches in the backseat. “Yeah, me too! I can’t wait to get in my bed.”

  “Y’all think I’m upset about Rashad and Millicent, don’t you?”

  “Are you?” I ask.

  “Well, yeah! I’ve never felt more stupid in my life. How is this dude gonna walk us up in the club and sit us at the table with his booty buddy? How did he think that was supposed to go? I swear dudes want to see girls fighting over them, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction.”

  “You think that’s what he wanted?” Hope asks. “Because I wasn’t feeling that vibe.”

  “I think that he is getting me back for what happened with Ricky in New York, and using the opportunity to rub Ricky’s face in it.”

  “So, what are you gonna do?” I ask. “Are you going to keep seeing him?”

  “Uh, no! But I’m not telling Ricky that.”

  “You could always date someone else,” Hope says. “Your new guy doesn’t have to be Rashad.”

  “I don’t want anyone else! I’ve been fussing at Sunday for not making her choice between Sam and DeShawn, but I’m not any better than she is.”

  “You both are pitiful. You’ve got boys falling all over you, and still crying and moaning. Can I just get a boyfriend, please?” Hope asks. “Y’all are hogging ’em all.”

  “You want me to hook you up with DeShawn?” I ask, only half-jokingly.

  “Ew! Absolutely not. But no more love triangles for you two until Piper and I have at least one boy to talk about.”

  “Gia’s triangle is resolved, though,” I say. “Mine isn’t!”

  Hope laughs out loud. “It’s been resolved. You just haven’t accepted it yet. And neither has DeShawn.”

  “Mine isn’t resolved either,” Gia says. “Right now, I’m in the single ladies crew too.”

  “Single ladies unite!” Hope squeals.

  “What exactly are we uniting about?” Gia asks.

  Hope thinks for a moment and then says, “The best way to catch boys.”

  Are we really catching the boys or is it vice versa? Because I feel pretty trapped right now. And if it is the boys doing the catching, maybe it’ll be easier if I just stop running.

  13

  I’m in the middle of studying for my literature final when I get a text from an unknown number. It says, Log on to Twitter.

  I’m afraid. Every time I log on to the Internet these days there’s something on there that I’m not trying to see. So, I ignore the text and go back to my studies. If it’s important, I can find out about it later. No one puts anything that’s an emergency on Twitter anyway.

  A few minutes later, Gia and Hope burst into my room, without even knocking. Note to self . . . get a lock. These heffas are tripping.

  “Excuse y’all!” I say. “I am trying to study.”

  “Put your books down! You have got to get online for a minute,” Hope says.

  “Somebody just sent me a text telling me to get on Twitter. What’s up?”

  Gia says, “Uh, you’ve got to see for yourself.”

  I take out my cell phone and log on to Twitter. Gia snatches my phone.

  “Do it on your computer!” she says.

  I shake my head, getting really irritated at all this extra hypeness over something happening in Twitterland.

  “This better be good!” I fuss.

  Gia and Hope look at each other and giggle. “Trust me, it’s worth it,” Hope says.

  I log into my Twitter page, on the computer, and I’ve got about a thousand mentions. “What in the world?” I ask.

  @SundayTolliver THAT’S what I’m talkin’ bout! #teamsam all day and all night!

  You have to choose Sam! @SundayTolliver! He’s so super sweet and talented and hot! #teamsam

 
@SundayTolliver And checkmate. #teamsam is taking out the suckas and they don’t know how he did it

  “What did Sam do that was so great?” I ask. “I don’t see it!”

  “Go to his page, and scroll down to the link,” Hope says.

  I’ve got to admit that I am feeling a little bit excited now! Gia and Hope are sitting on the edge of my bed getting ready to dang near explode, so it must be something good.

  Finally, I get through all of the congratulations tweets on Sam’s page to his original tweet, with a link.

  “I’m clicking the link. . . .”

  Hope squeals and Gia claps. These two are totally extra today.

  The link takes me to a YouTube video. It’s just Sam sitting in a white T-shirt, and wearing his black rimmed glasses. He looks real cute with his guitar in his lap. I press play.

  “So hey, y’all. It’s me Sam, the producer. The ex-boyfriend of the most beautifulest girl in the world.” He lets out a nervous chuckle when he says this.

  “And I’ve been taking these guitar lessons, so I can be one of those cool dudes, who, you know . . . sit in a chair . . . playing a guitar and singing. Y’all know that Sunday is the songwriter, but I wrote a little song about her. I’d like you to hear it.... Here it goes.”

  Then Sam opens up his mouth and the clearest, smoothest tenor notes start to flow.

  She writes the lyrics and she sings the songs.

  She’s music to me, her smile is a song.

  I did her wrong. I did.

  And I’m sorry, but I think it’s too late.

  She’s singing her song to somebody else

  Humming sweet nothings to somebody else

  If I could do anything, I’d turn back time

  To yesterday, when she was mine.

  Oh, to yesterday when she was mine.

  Then Sam concludes his video with this declaration that totally takes my breath away. “I hope y’all don’t think I was being a sucka . . . but I’m Team Sam, and I love her, so . . . okay. See y’all next time on the Internet.”

  Oh my goodness! My jaw is stuck on unhinged, and tears flow freely from my eyes. I rewind the song, over and over and over again. I feel my heart swell to like twice its size. I don’t think I could ever feel fuller than this.