A Girl Like Me

by Ni-Ni Simone

  This was crazy. Not only was I with the number one hip-hop sensation, but I was chillin’ with him. Kickin’ it. Laughing and talking. Exchanging stories like it could possibly go further than this moment, or further than tonight, but knowing for sure that things in my life never worked out like that. So I took it for what it was worth and enjoyed—whatever this was.

  Haneef cut on the radio and the commercial for the radio contest was playing the winning song I sang, stopping right before my mother wrecked my life on the phone. “Listen at you, girl. And here I thought I was hot.”

  I rolled my eyes to the sky. “Sweat yourself, why don’t you?!” I joked…I hoped I didn’t sound stupid.

  “You really wrote that song you were singing?”

  Out of embarrassment, I held my head down. “Yes.”

  He lifted my chin. “That was beautiful.”

  “Thank you.”

  Haneef smiled and pulled me softly to his chest. “Yo, you know what I want you to do?” he said as we started to slow dance to the music playing on the radio.

  “What?”

  “When you drop your first CD, I want you to write a song and dedicate it to me.”

  I cracked up. “And call it what?”

  “Love Letter,” he laughed. “What else? And be like this is for my boo, Haneef.”

  Was he serious? “My boo?” I said, taken aback. “Uhmmm, I’ma be like this is to please a fan.”

  “A fan?” he frowned, as we continued to dance.

  “Yeah, a fan.”

  After a few moments of silence, he said, “I want you to sing to me.”

  My eyes lit up with such delight, there were no words to describe how I felt. There I was with the man of my dreams in the middle of the sea, and he wanted to dance with me. He placed his hands around my waist and I locked my fingers around his neck and looked directly in his eyes.

  The moon shone on us like a spotlight as we swayed back and forth. I was in heaven.

  “You have a beautiful voice,” he insisted. “And I would love to hear it again.”

  I swallowed, took a deep breath, closed my eyes, followed the melody floating around in my head, and sang about this being more than just a silly crush.

  After the song ended, he said, “That was hot.” He stared at me and slowly our lips drew toward one another, but just at the moment, my cell phone rang.

  I thought about ignoring it, but I knew from the ringtone it was someone from my house. And since I hadn’t been home since that morning, I figured I needed to get it.

  I stepped away from him and flipped open my phone. It was Aniyah. There was so much static I could barely make out what she was saying, but the only thing that came through clearly was how everybody in the house, once again, was dead.

  “Alright, Aniyah.” I closed my phone and looked at Haneef.

  “You need to bounce?” he asked me.

  “Yeah,” I said. “I need to get back.”

  He walked into the captain’s booth, and before I knew it, the boat was turning around. And I was doing everything in my power not to let the tears bubbling up in my eyes run down my cheeks.

  SPIN IT…

  Track 8

  “Okay, and why couldn’t I get at you all last night?!” Naja said as soon as I walked into school, pulling me by my arm away from the other students who were dying to know what the heck I was doing with Haneef yesterday. “And why didn’t you meet me at the bus stop this morning?” she carried on. “And what did he say, and what did he do?” she rambled, not taking a breath. “Girl, it’s a good thing you always around here lookin’ cute. You gon’ see him today? You think he could break up Chris Brown and Rihanna? What you think Chris Brown’s real name is, Richard? Oh, I don’t care. Just give me the four-one-one—”

  Richard? “Anyway,” I said, as we stood in front of my locker, “let me tell you this. Haneef took me to New York.”

  “New York?” she froze. “New York City? Like the place where the Statue of Liberty is? The Big Grape—”

  “It’s the Big Apple.”

  “Whatever. So what did y’all do? You didn’t give him any, did you? Please don’t tell me you hit him off like a nightly fruit stand—”

  “It’s one-night stand.”

  “Dang, Elite,” she said, disappointed. “That’s even worse.”

  “No. That’s not what I meant—”

  “Did you give him some booty?”

  “No. I’m not a ho.”

  “Ai’ight then. Why didn’t you say that?”

  “Oh…my…God…would you just listen?!”

  “I’m listening. What’s the problem?”

  I took a deep breath. “We chilled on his boat. He had dinner prepared and everything.”

  “Get outta here!” she said breathlessly, holding her chest. “That is so romantic.”

  “Yes, girl, in the middle of the sea.”

  “Under the moonlight?”

  “Yes,” I said breathlessly.

  We both fell against the lockers.

  “I’m in love,” we said simultaneously.

  “You know what I mean,” Naja snapped. “Anywho, go on.”

  “Gurl,” I said as I closed my eyes tightly. I swear I was still high off the moment. “It was the best.”

  “Did you kiss him?”

  “Almost.”

  “Almost?” she frowned. “Almost doesn’t count.”

  “I know, but Aniyah bum-rushed my flow—she called and said everybody was dead.”

  “Damn, what, they die every other night? Did you ever think about calling the Book of World Records? Cause my granddaddy only died once.” She tapped her acrylic nailtip on her bottom lip. “Unless he came back and bounced. Cause he couldn’t stand Mom-Mom.”

  Sometimes I wondered how in the world we were best friends.

  “So anyway,” she said. “Get to the good part. Are you two an item?”

  “An item?” I wrinkled my nose.

  “Yeah, is that your boo?”

  “No,” I shook my head. “He’s not my boo and honestly,” I sighed, “I don’t think he’s feeling me like that.”

  “And why not?”

  “Because when I asked him what all of this was for, he said he was always eager ‘to please a fan.’”

  “A fan? He was all up in yo’ grill, and he’s reduced you to being a—fan?”

  “I don’t know if I would call it being reduced.”

  “Well, what the hell you think it is? He damn near called you a played-out groupie. A fan—”

  “Naja—”

  “Here this cat stole your information—”

  “Stole—?”

  “Stole it, and he stalked you—”

  “Stalked—?”

  “Stalked you. Stalked the hell outta you, and then he turns around after sailing you all around the Chinese Apple—”

  “It’s the Big Apple—just the Big Apple—”

  “Work with me now—you know what I mean—he done row-row-rowed ya boat down the Big Apple’s stream, and now you a fan? And you taking that? Girl, call that cat so I can check his chin like a four-hour short stay.”

  I hated it when she had a point. Before I commented on how played I suddenly felt, the morning bell rang and it was time to head to homeroom. “I’ll catch you at lunchtime,” Naja said as she headed down the opposite end of the hallway.

  I grabbed my books from my locker, slammed it shut, and headed down the hall toward my class. As soon as I turned the corner, I was jerked back and tossed against my locker. It was Jahaad. I snatched my left forearm from his grip. “What are you doing?!” This fool was trippin’. I went to move and he pushed me back.

  “Boy,” I squinted, “don’t play with me! You know I don’t go for nobody putting their hands on me!”

  “What you call yourself doing yesterday, huh?” He was so close to my face, the warmth of his breath smothered my nose. “You went home with that dude? You a groupie ass ho now?!”

  “You bett
er get out my face!”

  “I don’t better do nothin’, but you better explain yourself to me! You know how that made me look?! Do you know what that did to my reputation around here?!”

  I couldn’t believe this—this nucka here had lost his mind. “You got a lot of nerve when you been off galavantin’ with Ceira’s ho ass!”

  “I ain’t with Ciera. I’m with you!”

  “Stop lying. I was right there next to her in the mall the other day when you called her on the phone, right after you called me on mine! You ain’t slick!”

  “I only called Ciera once, and that was to get the homework. So what’s your excuse?”

  “Boy, you need to stop lyin’! She’s not even in any of your classes.”

  “She is so! And anyway, back to the subject at hand. I can’t believe you would do me like this, Elite! After everything I’ve done for you?! After I’ve always been there for you, you skip off with some rap dude?”

  “He’s not a rapper, and I didn’t exactly skip off with him.”

  “Now you need to stop lying.”

  “Well we didn’t skip, we were in a car.”

  “You being funny?”

  I sucked my teeth. “Look…” I paused. I had to think of how I would finish this lie. “Him coming here was a part of the radio contest.” Yeah, that was it, the radio contest. “And he met me here. I took a limo ride with him and nothing else. He did it to please a fan. I don’t even think he remembers my name.”

  “For real?” Jahaad smiled.

  “On the really real.” That was pathetic. I couldn’t believe he bought that.

  “I told you all those type cats do is use chicks.”

  “I know,” I pacified him.

  “I know you do. Now tell me you still love me?”

  “You know I do.” He was making me sick.

  “Ai’ight, so why don’t you come to my house after school and prove it.”

  I was guessing Jahaad missed the memo, but having sex with him was out. He didn’t like to use condoms and I wasn’t passing off anymore without them. After my pregnancy scare a few months back, there was no way I was going to take the chance. Not to mention, I had this sneaky suspicion that he was really doin’ ole girl Ciera. And if so, he could forget it, ’cause there was no way I was droppin’ it behind no ho. “I gotta work after school, Jahaad. So I’ll call you, but right now I have to get to class.”

  “Yeah, ai’ight.” He stepped from in front of me. “Get to class.” I know he was pissed, but so what? I had other things to do than babysit his insecurities by giving him some unprotected booty.

  SPIN IT…

  Track 9

  “Hold up! Wait a minute!” Samantha screamed across the cafeteria like she’d lost every bit of her mind. Naja and I held our lunch trays in our hands, stunned.

  “She can’t be talking to us,” I said as I shook my head and turned to Naja.

  “Nah, I don’t think she is because she knows I don’t get down with her like that.”

  “For real, though,” I said and we continued walking.

  “Elite! Naja! I know y’all hear me!” Samantha screamed again.

  “She is talking to us,” I said in disbelief.

  “That trick is trippin’.” We turned toward Samantha.

  “Ahnt aunnn, come over here!” came from another direction. We spun back around. And it was Mecca—from my math class. The same Mecca who’s never said more than two words to me—yet she was motioning for us to sit at the table with her and her posse. Uhm, not.

  Instead of walking toward Mecca or Samantha, we headed toward an empty table in the cut.

  “Told y’all she was a ho,” Ciera said as she brushed past me. “Now everybody on her ’cause she givin’ it up to that played-out Haneef. I heard he lip-syncs anyway.”

  I whipped around and spat at her, “I heard you were really a man, and what? Now you got something else you wanna say to me?”

  Ciera wiggled her neck. “I know you didn’t just call me a man.”

  “I sure did, Henry,” I snapped sarcastically.

  “Whatever,” she flicked her hand.

  “Yeah, whatever,” I said as we continued on our way. “Stank ass trick.”

  “Forget her,” Samantha said, pulling me by my arm.

  “Yeah,” Mecca chimed in. “First period lunch is only forty-five minutes, so you don’t have time to be arguing with her.”

  “Exactly,” Samantha agreed. “We need to hear what went on with you and Haneef.”

  We sat our lunch trays on the table and a smile ran across my face.

  “They were on a yacht,” Naja said before I could open my mouth.

  “Well we weren’t exactly—”

  She kicked me under the table. “After he flew her to California—Beverly Hills to be exact,” Naja spat.

  “Beverly Hills?” All the girls gasped. “Oh, my.”

  “He told her it was love at first sight.”

  “He did, Elite?” Samantha’s mouth gaped open.

  “Yeah,” I added to the truth’s remix, “he did. I was in heaven.”

  “Somebody said he told you—you could quit school and he would take care of you,” Mecca said as a few girls I’d seen around school joined us.

  “He did tell her that,” Naja said.

  “But I told him I didn’t want to do that,” I interjected.

  “But I heard he was going with that new singer, Deidra.”

  “She’s a tramp,” Naja spat.

  “She sure is,” I added. “Besides, he dumped her.”

  “He did?” a few of them asked.

  “Yop,” I shook my head in assurance. “Sho’ did.”

  “Dang!” was their response.

  “But what about Jahaad?” Tiffany, another girl who’d joined us, asked.

  “What he don’t know—” I spat.

  “Won’t hurt him,” Naja added.

  “Fa’sho,” Samantha laughed as the lunch bell rang.

  We all got up from the table and Naja and I continued to brag as we walked into the hallway toward class, where we saw Jahaad and a few of his boys coming our way.

  “Shhhh…” Samantha said. “Here comes ole boy.”

  Instantly we were silent, but the moment Jahaad and his crew walked past us, we screamed in laughter. We didn’t dare turn around because we knew they were looking at us like we we’d lost our minds.

  “Ai’ight,” Samantha said. “Elite, call me.”

  She wanted me to call her? I didn’t even have her number. I knew we just bugged out in the caf, but she couldn’t be serious. “Okay, girl.” I waved bye.

  “Bye, Elite,” Mecca waved. “Wait for me after school. I’ma take the bus with you.”

  “Dang, girl,” Naja said. “Before long, you ain’t gon’ have time for me.”

  “Please,” I said and mushed her playfully on the side of her head. “I’ma always have time for you, big head.” And we went our separate ways to class.

  SPIN IT…

  Track 10

  I had a week’s worth of clothes I needed to sneak back into the boutique but that night it seemed like Thelma just wouldn’t leave. Naja was off so there wasn’t much I could do to distract my manager. I twiddled my thumbs hoping she would get lost, but after an hour of seeing how she wouldn’t bounce, I realized I was walking around with a backpack filled with stolen merchandise. This was a hot ass mess.

  In between thoughts of how I was gonna sneak back the clothes where they belonged, I thought about calling Haneef, but quickly changed my mind. After all, it had been a week since we sailed the ocean blue and I hadn’t heard from him. Not once. So I figured forget him. Yeah, that was it. I had to forget him.

  There weren’t many customers in the store so I was able to finish all my homework. “Elite,” Thelma caught my attention. “I’m leaving early.”

  I was thanking God. “Awwl, Thelma. Why?”

  “Because there’s not much action in here, and I don’t feel too well
. So I’ll see you tomorrow after school.”

  “Okay,” I said as I watched her walk toward the door.

  I waited a few minutes to be sure she was gone, and then I took out the clothes from my backpack and laid them on the counter. I ran in the back quickly, grabbed a stack of hangers, and when I came back out, Thelma was looking at the clothes on the counter.

  “Where did these come from?” she asked.

  “Uhmm…a customer,” I said, and paused, “who…just went to the bathroom and said she’d be returning these.”

  “Okay, well be sure she has the receipt.”

  “Okay,” I tried to play off my nervousness. “I will.”

  “I’m gone this time for sure,” she said, heading out the door, and when she was out of sight, I let out the longest sigh in the world. That was it for “borrowing” clothes!

  I returned to the cash register and my phone rang. I looked at the caller ID, and it was Jahaad. I really wasn’t feeling him since he pulled that stunt at school last week, but I answered anyway. “Hello?”

  “Wassup, boo? Where you at?”

  “Work.”

  “Let me come scoop you.”

  I looked at the clock and thought about how I really needed my money to stretch until the next week, when I would be able to afford a new bus card. “Ai’ight,” I said. “Come get me in an hour.”

  As the hour passed I did the books, set up the schedule, and placed some of the new merchandise on the floor. By closing time I’d made sure the clothes I’d returned were in their proper place, locked up the store, dropped the money in the vault, and when I walked outside, Jahaad was sitting in his car.

  “You know my mother’s not home tonight,” he said before I even closed the door. “So you could spend the night like you used to.”

  “No, thank you,” I snapped.

  “And why not?”

  I shrugged my shoulders, “Cause I said no.”

  “And I said why?”

  “Look, you not gettin’ no booty. Now take me home, please.”

  “I don’t believe you frontin’ on me.”

  “Believe it. Now can you drive?”

  “Nah, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “So what you tryna say? That you ain’t taking me home?”