Gettin' Hooked

by Nyomi Scott

  Still, he was hella fine. Not Maurice hottie status, but fo’ real, few compared. As I’d lain there, curled into the oversize beanbag chair, trying to sleep, I kept thinking about these two dudes. The one I’d wanted and the one who wanted me.

  I’d kept remembering the way Brie had been touching Maurice, the way he’d been grinding with her, enjoying the way she moved against him. And I’d kept wondering if they were hooking up right then, as I was restless on a beanbag on my cousin’s room.

  Then there was Darian, with his muscular body and obvious interest in me. I could tell; we’d danced hexa close. I felt a little guilty about the way I’d teased the poor guy, used him actually to make Maurice jealous. Or at least let him know I wasn’t hung up or bothered by seeing him with another girl.

  “I signed up.” A new girl’s voice entered the mumbled words of my cousin and friend, pulling me from my drowsy closed-eyes musings.

  Lifting my lids, I checked out the newcomer, a chick I didn’t know. Must have been one of Kayla’s Creekside classmates, I decided, allowing my lids to flutter closed again, deciding I’d rather just listen than take part in the conversation.

  “Cool. You digging it?” Kayla’s voice. I knew it well.

  “Oh, yeah, girl. I already started talking to someone. Jonathan Brown. You know him?”

  I did. He was in my chemistry class. I didn’t say anything though, because I didn’t know he’d made a profile page. He already had a girlfriend.

  “We went to the movies last night.”

  Shit. Okaaay, I hadn’t really thought of the fact that some folkies may use this as a way to double up on who they’d already got. I think I’d have said something to Jonathan had I seen his profile up there, but there was getting to be so many it was hard to keep up.

  Our number of profiles had jumped again, nearly reaching five frickin’ hundred now. We’d been around for two weeks. My girls were all over this. Some had even made prom date commitments already. Things were bouncing off just as I’d hoped they would. Better. Except for me. Maurice was out of the picture, but at least I had a possible backup in Darian.

  Dasia giggled. “You have fun, Leza?”

  “Oh, my God, yes!” She laughed. “He’s fiiinnnee.”

  “I know I am, girlie.” A new voice. A guy. I opened my eyes to see who’d just walked up on us.

  Darian. Aww lawdy, I was wearing baggie sweats, had my hair in a pony and most of my lip gloss was lingering on the rim of my coffee cup.

  “Hey, Darian,” Dasia and Kayla said in unison, Kayla discreetly pinching me on the side.

  “What up?” He nodded at them, but was looking right at me, a smile threatening on his lips.

  “Hi,” I whispered. My voice cracked, sounding like I’d just woken up.

  “Can I talk atcha for a sec?”

  My face heated like crazy, and I wondered if Darian and my girls could see the pink rising on my cheeks. My heart rate kicked up some, more about the situation than Darian, though. “Fa sheezy.”

  “In private?”

  Oh, snap, it was like that? “Sure.” I straightened on the mini-couch, then, still cradling my warm cup, stood up right quick.

  I felt a sting on my butt and knew Kayla had pinched me again. Turning back, I gave her a wide-eyed look with a little shrug. She’d be able to read my confusion, because she was hella good at knowing just what I felt. Instead of offering up a little twinkle of sympathy for my embarrassment, she was grinning all wide, which made me wonder if she maybe had somethin’ to do with this.

  I was straight whupping her ass later, if I found out she’d set this up. Turning away from my cousin, I followed Darian outside.

  The rain was splatting hella hard again, sheets sliding off the overhang of the building, causing a ruckus of noise as they smacked the cement. But it also acted like a curtain, a wall of water blocking a good vision of the parking lot.

  We walked in silence, Darian leading the way until we’d cleared the huge plate-glass windows that made up the walls of Starbucks. I knew he was walking far enough so they couldn’t see us. My stomach flipped, not sure if I should be excited or nervous.

  “What’s goin’ on?” I asked when he finally stopped walking and turned toward me.

  He shrugged, and I could tell he was a little nervous, which helped cool me out. “Just wanted to talk for a minute.”

  “Just? For just, we coulda stayed inside,” I replied, pretending to shiver as I snuggled my steaming cup closer to absorb the warmth. Really, I didn’t need that, ’cause my body was plenty hot already. But the pretend shiver of cold was a good disguise of my real issue. The tremble of nerves.

  He didn’t wanna talk to me outside, in the rain, just because. The boy wanted something.

  “You’re cold?” His hand landed on my upper arm, and tugged me a little closer, then with ease turned us so my back was toward the wall and his body was shielding me from the rain and cold.

  He didn’t stand close enough to touch, but he was close enough where I could feel the heat of his breath wash across my skin. “Better?”

  I glanced up at him and smiled. “Yeah.” Then slid my gaze away to watch the plump raindrops. When I tucked my bottom lip between my teeth to keep them from chattering, he made some little noise, so I brought my eyes back to his face and waited for him to tell me what we were really doing out here.

  “You were bangin’ last night.”

  I laughed. “And sweats aren’t bangin’,” I teased, fishing for compliments, I guess, but hell no did I want him telling me I looked good last night but today I look like shit.

  “Nah, girl, you top-notch in sweats, too.” He looked me up from K-Swiss to outta control curls as he spoke.

  “Thanks—” I laughed, then holding the cup with one hand, used the other to hold on to his oversize Creekside hoodie, added “—you’re not so bad, either.”

  He nodded with a confident smile, licking his full lips. “I was wondering, Imani, you have a man?”

  Right quick my mind flashed to Maurice and it was undeniable that my body reacted to his image with shooting pulse and heat in my belly in a way that Darian didn’t cause. Feelings or not, I was through chasing him.

  I shook my head. “Nah.”

  His smile widened. “So can we hang, just marinate some?”

  Can we hang, just marinate? Not entirely sure what he was asking me, I took a sec before I answered. Fa sheezy, though, that can’t be how dudes at Creekside ask a girl out. And I wasn’t ready for all that anyhow, if that’s what he was talking ’bout.

  “We can get to know each, Darian. Is that what you want?”

  “Yeah, girl. And this.” And before I knew what he meant, he was leaning close and his lips touched mine. Softly, at first, he just nipped my bottom lips where I’d had my teeth earlier. Then he kissed me a little fuller, opening his mouth on mine.

  Closing my eyes, I tried to absorb the feeling, the smooth sweep of his tongue. He shifted closer, his body keeping me against the wall, but not close enough that we were pressed together, thanks to the latte I was holding.

  And then he backed off the kiss just when I was diggin’ it, dropping a few quick pecks before he pulled completely away, and turned his head toward Starbucks’ door. It didn’t take long to see why he’d ended the kiss.

  A crowd was startin’ to gather at the front of the building, shouts increasing over the rain’s noise. As I scanned to see what was going on, my gaze stumbled over dark eyes glaring at me. Maurice’s. Even from the distance I was standing, I could see he was mad, by the set of his jaw and hands curled into fists at his side.

  It was pretty damn clear that he’d watched the entire kiss, but what did I care? And why should he? I was never his girl. We never did more than talk a few times, and last night he’d made it real obvious that he was cool playin’; but I guess when it comes to me, he was a hater.

  “There’s a fight,” Darian said, stepping away, but taking my hand in his. I tried to pull it away. We we
ren’t like that. I wasn’t a bopper, and despite lettin’ him kiss me I wasn’t ready to be claimed by him.

  But his grip was insistent and he pulled me along as he started walking. At least by the time we’d gotten closer I was able to guide him to the other side of the gathering circle, the opposite way from where I’d seen Maurice. I wasn’t ’bout to play games with him, and I fo’ sho’ didn’t want him saying something to Darian.

  As we shoved closer into the crowd, I could see what was going down. Kayla’s friend Leza was getting her ass whupped by Jonathan’s girl. Michelle was no joke, straight going savage and dropping fists on point into Leza’s face.

  Tearing my eyes off the brawl, I glanced around the circle, and caught sight of Jonathan, looking hella smug with his arms folded across his chest as he watched the bootches fight over him.

  Wiggling my fingers, I loosed Darian’s hold and pulled my hand free, my gaze roaming away from Jonathan to look for Maurice, realizing that Darian and Maurice both went to Creekside, and if Maurice had real beef, there wouldn’t be shit I could do to squash it while they were at school.

  And pow—just like it occurred to me that Leza was gettin’ thumped on because of me, and GettinHooked.com. Aww, lawdy, I couldn’t let this go down. Shoving my shoulder between a couple of yelling people, I dropped my latte to the cement and jumped into the mess, grabbing Michelle’s arms and trying to hold her back.

  Seeing I was getting involved others started helping, too, taking Leza and dragging her from the ground. Michelle was fighting me hexa hard, and some dude I didn’t know helped hold her back.

  “Stay away from my man, slut!” she screeched.

  “He wanted me last night!”

  See now, the girl had been gettin’ beat down, why the hell didn’t she just shut up? Leza’s taunt caused Michelle to double her efforts at getting past me. “Bitch! You’re a sleaze, give it up, bitch!” Michelle’s arm snaked out toward Leza but caught me in the eye.

  There were stars for a right quick sec, and I shook my head to clear ’em. Luckily by then the crowd had shifted all the way between them and Leza was being pulled away and Michelle subdued.

  A few more minutes and the crowd started to disburse, people realizing the excitement was over so they went back to doing their own thang. Jonathan came up and I figured that was my out. Just as I was moving away my cell buzzed, so I flipped it open and read the text from Kayla letting me know she and Dasia were taking Leza home, and if Darian couldn’t do it, they’d be back for me.

  Glancing around, I looked for Darian. He’d moved back inside Starbucks now and was talking and laughing with some of his boys. Turning away, I decided I’d rather walk home than ride with him. I didn’t want ’im trying to kiss me again. Didn’t want ’im trying to make some sorta claim on me I didn’t feel.

  Missing the warmth of my cup of coffee, I folded my arms across my chest and rubbed my upper arms. It was raining like mad, but not all that cold. Still, I’d be soaked by the time I got home, but right now I really didn’t care.

  Puffing out a few gulps of air and angling toward home, I didn’t hear footsteps over the rain until it was too late.

  “Imani, hold up,” Maurice said, grabbing my sweatshirt firm enough for me to stop.

  I closed my eyes but didn’t turn. Just his voice did things to me. Bebopped a rhythm in my blood and made my knees feel weak. I took a slow breath, then turned toward him.

  “What?”

  “You talkin’ to Darian now?”

  I narrowed my eyes and glared at him, hella tempted to say “yeah” just so he’d leave me alone. I couldn’t stand the feelin’ of being mad and hurt mixed with this weird need to step into his arms.

  He shook me lightly. “Are you?”

  “No.” I’d meant to ask why he wanted to know, but “no” was all that came out.

  “Why you kissing him then?”

  “He kissed me.” I was freakin’ insane. Why was I justifying my kiss with Darian to him? I’m sure he’d done his thang last night with Brie.

  “You just let any dude kiss you, then?”

  I pulled my shoulder away, forcing his hand to drop from my arm. Um…no, I didn’t get down like that. If he was tryin’ to say I was ready to give it up on the easy, I’d straight do him like Michelle did Leza.

  Stepping back, I planted my fist on my tilted hip, daring him to say it. My heart was pumping all crazy-like, my stomach trembling. “Fa shizzle, baby boy,” I said, making my words drip with sarcasm. “A dude wants to kiss, I let him.”

  We stood in the roar of the rain, in the heat of anger, in the build of something intense and arousing. The moment lingered, the tension splintering down my spine. His dark gaze was on my face, an eyebrow arched into an odd angle. And then he let out a slow breath, and just like that, the something faded.

  His shoulders relaxed. A dimple threatened faintly in a single cheek, like he was fighting a smile. “No you don’t,” he whispered, stepping forward.

  He touched my cheek with his fingertips, then his palm settled fully against my skin as he swooped in and kissed me full on the mouth. Nothing tentative, nothing unsure.

  Holding me in place with one hand, he stepped even closer, close enough that I could feel his heat and strength. His lush lips opened, his tongue touching mine. He made a slight sound, like maybe something was hurting. There was something in the sound that made me want to soothe him. Made me want to step closer, so close there was no space left between us.

  With my eyes closed, my head light from hardly breathing, I slanted my face and let him kiss me. Really kiss me. Until I didn’t think I could stand. All that anger raged into other feelings, emotions I wasn’t ready to name.

  Then the kiss lightened and slowed, his lips toying with mine, teasing and sucking before he lifted his head, the smile glittering in his eyes.

  His mouth was damp now, from our kiss and what had remained of my lip gloss, and I had to fight the desire to reach up and wipe the moisture away. Fight the urge to start laughing.

  “No you don’t,” he repeated. “Not any more.”

  I shook my head; all that garbage I’d said about not giving a shit what Maurice thought was a frickin’ lie. I liked the boy, and after that kiss there was no more denying it. But so what. If he thought he could boss me around, tell me I couldn’t kiss other fellas while he did what he pleased, banged whatever chick was available, well then he had another thang coming.

  I pushed him hard in the chest, catching him off guard. He stumbled back a few steps. “You don’t own me, Maurice. I’ll kiss whoever I please.” And it didn’t matter that he was the only one I wanted touchin’ me. He wouldn’t know that.

  “And you want to be kissing Darian?”

  I shrugged, then added a smirk.

  “Hold up, Imani, you tellin’ me he kissed you like that? He made you feel that? He ain’t got it like me, and you know it.”

  I huffed, jamming my hands on my hips again. I shoulda known; this wasn’t ’bout me, but his pride. “What I do know, Maurice, is I’m not your girl. And you are not my daddy. You don’t set my rules.”

  “That’s not—”

  “Leave me alone. Just leave me alone.” I shoved him again, turning away. He tried to grab my sweatshirt again, but I sidestepped. “You actin’ like you want somethin’ that’s not being offered ta ya. Go find Brie.”

  And when I felt the burn of tears gather behind my eyes, I started running and prayed he wouldn’t come after me.

  CHAPTER 9

  “Imani Lane, to the administration office.”

  Snap, the bell had just rung and I hadn’t even taken my seat in my first-period class when the intercom beeped, then called me up. Amidst the laughter, hoots and oooohhhsss from my classmates, I gathered my stuff into my pack and flung it over my shoulder, then aimed for my teacher’s desk.

  “You gettin’ suspended?” some dude called across the room.

  “Ooohh, Imani’s in trouuuuuble,” others teased. “W
hatcha do, girl?”

  There was no guessing why I was being called to the office. I knew exactly why. And though I hadn’t been fighting, my eye told a different story. Dark purple beneath my eye and a swollen upper lid stood as evidence that I’d taken the brunt of Michelle’s runaway punch.

  I shrugged at the class, trying to look all casual, like being called to the office really didn’t bother me. They all knew why I was being called up, too. Shoot, word like this travels fast around the folkies at Howard.

  My cell had been blowin’ up since Saturday evening and my e-mail box had been crammed full with all these fools wantin’ the inside info on what had gone down outside of Starbucks.

  My classmates kept laughing until Ms. Sanders told everyone to sit down and get out their journals, then she scribbled her initials onto a hall pass and handed it to me.

  As I walked down the hall headed for the admin office, I wondered how much I was supposed to tell Mr. Alton, Howard’s principal, about the fight, but I was no narc. I’d try to keep Michelle out of trouble as much as possible, because fa sheezy, the fight didn’t take place on school property or during a school event, so I wasn’t feelin’ why it’d be their business.

  A fight off campus was for our parents to deal with. Leza may have been folded, but that didn’t have junk to do with school. And, I hadn’t even been in it, though deep down I couldn’t help this whack feelin’ that it was still my fault. My fault because of GettinHooked.com and the fact that Jonathan had used my find-a-prom-date site as a way to play his girl.

  I let out a low, slow breath when I reached the office, sort of surprised that Michelle and Jonathan weren’t there already. If the fight was being investigated shouldn’t those two be questioned, too? Michelle at the very least since she’d been the one who’d put the whuppin’ down.

  “In here, Miss Lane,” Mr. Alton said, sticking his head out his office door right quick.