Cool Like That (6 page)

I
’m kind of nervous about seeing Rashad again after our movie night. But I know I have to get up and go to class. Academic enrichment is the main reason I’m here. The drama is secondary.

Melody is still in bed, fully dressed in her clothes from last night and snoring hard. She and Sienna made it in just before curfew, but they stayed up half the night going on and on about how great the party was. I pretended I was asleep because I didn’t want to bore them with the details of my night of macking gone wrong.

Sounds like I need to go with them next time.

I force myself out of bed and go over to Melody’s computer to log on to Facebook. I would go into Lerner Hall to use the Internet, but that would require me to hurry and get ready, and I’m trying to wait until the last minute to get dressed.

I change my status update:

Got the blues right about now—hurt someone, and now I wish I could take it back.

Ricky never logs on to Facebook, so I know he won’t see my status. But almost immediately after I click the button to post, my phone starts buzzing.

“Hello?”

“Is this Gia?” Hope asks.

“Girl, who did you call?”

“You usually say something foolish when you answer the phone, so I was surprised to hear a normal greeting.”

I give a soft laugh. “Whatever.”

“Ew…have you brushed your teeth this morning? You sound like your breath stinks.”

“Hope! How can someone’s breath sound like it stinks?”

“I don’t know, but yours does.”

“If you called merely to insult me this morning, I will have to bid you adieu. I have a class.”

“Adieu! Gia, what are you on? I called because of that tripped-out message you posted on Facebook.”

“What was tripped out about it?”

“Who did you hurt? One of your new friends? Your roommate?”

“Ricky.”

“Ricky? Gia, please tell me you two are not off again.”

“It’s not completely my fault. Ricky is sending mixed signals. He said, ‘Let’s put the crushes on hold,’ but then he’s flirting with people and then acting jealous when I flirt. He gets on my nerves. Ugh!”

“I don’t even want you to rewind that foolishness, Gia.”

“I’ve got class in a little bit. I’ll text you later.”

“Don’t text me. Call me.”

I roll my eyes even though she can’t see. “Okay, Hope. Holla.”

I quickly get dressed for class. Even after I get out of the shower, brush my teeth, and put on all my clothes, Melody still has not gotten up.

“Melody—girl, you better wake up before you get in trouble. Going to class is mandatory around here.”

“You’re too loud!” Melody says with a groan.

“That’s what you get for sipping on grown-people beverages. Wake up!”

There’s a knock on our door. When I open it, Sienna flies into the room in a burst of energy.

“Mel, wake up! Class starts in a few minutes. You can’t be late for our science lab. We’re not going to become doctors by sleeping in!”

Melody sits up in the bed. Her hair looks like a bird’s nest on one side, and she’s got a trail of spit going from her mouth to her ear.

“How is it you’re wide awake?” Melody asks. “You got as little sleep as I did.”

Sienna winks. “My secret. But come on, get in the shower, and I’ll get your clothes out. It will be okay if we’re a little late.”

I look at them both and try to figure out what’s going on. I suspect some tomfoolery or chicanery (you like that, don’t you). But I’m gonna let them handle that.

“See y’all later,” I say.

As I’m walking across campus to the lecture hall, I see Ricky walking and talking animatedly with Xavier. Sushil is following behind, but he’s not joining in the conversation. I want to run and catch up, but I decide against it.

I thought I was running late, but when I get to the lecture hall, I’m one of the first ones to arrive. I take a seat in the front of the class and doodle in my notebook while everyone else trickles in.

Rashad comes in with a small but noisy group. He’s in the middle of a conversation as he brushes by me. He doesn’t even say hello.

Wow.

“Hi, I’m Mrs. Bryant, and I’m going to be your tour guide this summer!”

Our tour guide? Oh, no. I feel some teacher “creative” moment coming on. I should’ve known when I peeped out her tie-dyed T-shirt and Birkenstocks that she was going to be
extra.

“Most of you aren’t from New York City,” Mrs. Bryant continues. “So I’m sure you’re going to do lots of sightseeing.”

Okay, so maybe this could be fun! She’s talking about being a real tour guide.

Mrs. Bryant says, “When you visit the sights like the Statue of Liberty, Battery Park, and everything else, I want you to take a notebook.”

Surprisingly, nobody groans or complains! I guess that’s because we’re a class full of smarty-pants. Back at Longfellow High it would’ve taken Mrs. B, our English teacher, about half an hour to calm everybody back down after mentioning a writing assignment.

“With your notebooks, I want you to journal your first impressions of each landmark. In order to be a good writer, you must first learn to capture your experiences in words.”

Mrs. Bryant has her hands clasped over her heart like she’s about to say “The Pledge of Allegiance.” At least she’s excited about the project, and no one can take that away from her (insert blank stare).

“You’ll partner up with one or two people, and you’ll write what you experience with your five senses. Start today!”

After class, everyone picks partners to start the project. This is the disadvantage of being the new person. The only person I know in here is Rashad, and thank God he’s coming my way.

“Wanna partner up, Princess?” he asks.

“Yes, I do.”

He flashes me a smile. “You didn’t want to keep me in suspense at all? Just a little?”

“Do shut up, Rashad! Ugh!”

“Wait, is Ricky going to mind us being partners?”

He most probably will, but I reply, “Why would Ricky mind me completing my project?”

“Cool, so let’s start today. First stop, Canal Street.”

“A street? Our first stop is a street?”

Rashad laughs. “If you want a great first journal entry, Canal Street is the place. Go put on some sneakers and meet me in front of the dorm.”

Rashad walks off with some of his boy groupies. These are the guys who try to imitate his swagger, or swagger-jack, if you will. But instead of being annoyed by these dudes, Rashad seems to actually like it.

Melody and Sienna are in our room when I get there. It’s like the two of them are joined at the hip or something. I seem to recall Melody saying that she and I were going to become BFFs by the end of the summer. But looks like she’s found another bestie.

“Where are you going?” Sienna asks as I put on my sneakers.

“To Canal Street with Rashad. I’ll see y’all later.”

Melody and Sienna look at each other and then laugh.

“You think we’re letting you get away with that?” Melody asks, getting over her giggles.

“Get away with what?”

Sienna says, “Your little sneak date with Rashad.”

“It’s not a date. It’s a class assignment.”

“And you just happened to get Rashad as your partner?” Melody asks.

Sienna says, “Well, somebody told me in lab this morning that Ricky was talking real reckless about both of you. And I heard Ricky was going to the teen club with a bunch of people tonight.”

“So?”

“I don’t know if you noticed, Gia, but there are quite a few girls in the program drooling over Ricky,” Melody says. “If I didn’t have a boyfriend, I’d probably be one of them.”

This is all annoying information, no doubt. I try not to let them see that I’m stressing this at all, even though I totally am. I reply, “Well, maybe I’ll put on one of those sparkly outfits and come with y’all tonight.”

Melody shakes her head. “I can’t go out another night in a row. I have to rest. And I’ve got another class this afternoon.”

“Rest now,” Sienna says. “Party later.”

“Well, Rashad is waiting for me. So I’m gonna holla back at y’all.”

Rashad really is standing outside when I emerge wearing my most comfortable sneakers. I was expecting him to be a little annoyed that it took me so long to come downstairs, but if he’s heated, I can’t tell by the way he’s grinning at me.

“You ready, Princess?”

“Yep. Take me to Canal Street.”

Again, we catch the subway to our destination. I’m getting used to swiping my little MetroCard and running through the subway car doors just before they close.

“Did you bring money?” Rashad asks as we exit the subway station.

“Some. Why?”

“Because, trust, you’re gonna want to get your shop on.”

“Well, why didn’t you say something back at the dorm?”

“Because we’re supposed to be doing our class assignment.”

I’m about to give Rashad a serious eye roll, but something else catches my attention. In front of me, right on the sidewalk, is a table full of the flyest purses. They’ve got every name brand, every color, and every style.

The cute little girl at the table asks, “You like Coach purses?”

“Yes! How much is this one?” I ask, pointing at a little red clutch.

“Twenty-five.”

My eyes bulge right out of my head. “Twenty-five? Get the heck out of here.”

A Coach bag for twenty-five dollars? Why did Melody not inform me of this bargain shopper’s haven? I love New York!

“Wait,” I ask. “Is this real?”

Rashad laughs. “Nothing is real on Canal Street, Gia. You have entered the land of knockoffs.”

Knockoffs! Boo to this little girl, and quadruple womp on me for thinking I could score a real Coach purse for next to nothing.

I say to the girl, “Uh, no, thanks. Let’s go, Rashad.”

Can someone explain to me why dude is still laughing? I know Rashad brought me out here just to have his own little personal laugh fest.

“What is so funny?” I ask.

Rashad clutches his side as though he’s trying to make himself stop guffawing. He’s
so
not doing a good job of it.

“You. You’re funny. I wish you could’ve seen your face when you found out that bag was fake.”

“Yeah, well, I hope you got what you needed for your journal entry.”

“Yes, I did. Thank you.”

I roll my eyes at Rashad and storm up Canal Street. I’m not even impressed by the cute Baby Phat earrings I see on my left or the guy with a case full of Fossil watches on my right. Rashad has something for his journal entry, but I do too. I’m gonna call it
Canal Street—Avenue of Lies.

“Gia, wait up!”

I stop marching long enough for Rashad to catch up.

“You hungry?” he asks when he reaches me.

“Why? You gonna show me a restaurant with fake food?”

He chuckles. “No. It’s a really good Vietnamese place you have to try.”

“I’ve never had Vietnamese food before.”

“All the more reason why you have to try it. Come on. It’s right down this street.”

Rashad pulls me into an overly crowded restaurant. There are a lot of non-English conversations going on, but it sounds more like synchronized chaos than noise.

My stomach grumbles. “It smells great in here. I’m hungry.”

Rashad laughs. “All that storming up and down the street worked up an appetite, huh?”

“Boy, please.”

We get shown to a table close to the door, which is good because the tables are so close together that squeezing to the back would’ve been annoying. The waitress leaves us with menus and slams glasses of water down in front of us.

“Okay…” I say.

“I know, the service isn’t the greatest, but the food is really good.”

I flip the menu over, which is partially in Vietnamese. “So what’s good?”

“How about the frog legs.”

“How about no. Don’t play with me, Rashad.”

“Okay. Try the lemongrass chicken. It’s spicy, just like you.”

“Don’t know what lemongrass is, but I heard chicken, so I guess it’s safe.”

My phone buzzes as the waitress takes our order. I let Rashad order everything because he seems to know what he’s doing. Everything on the menu has a number next to it, and Rashad already knows by heart the numbers of the stuff he wants.

I try to read my text message without Rashad noticing.

Talked to Hope. She said u want 2 apologize.

Are you kidding me? I’m so mad I feel like I’m about to foam at the mouth. First at Hope for feeling the need to meddle, and second at Ricky for sending me this foolishness.

“It’s rude to text at the table, Gia.”

“I know. I’m sorry, Rashad.”

“It’s even ruder to get mad at the text and then not share.”

“It’s nothing. Just Ricky getting on my nerves again.”

“That dude. He interrupted my movie date; now he’s moving in on my lunch. What’s the deal with you two anyway? I feel like you aren’t telling me everything.”

Movie date? What movie date?

“There’s not much to tell.”

“Y’all didn’t hook up, did you?”

“What? How is that your business?”

I stop short of telling Rashad that Ricky and I are virgins. That is unnecessary information as far as I’m concerned.

“It’s not my business, but I’m trying to get to know you.”

“Ricky and I are best friends who started digging one another.”

“That’s all?”

“It’s all you need to know,” I say with a wink.

Our food is finally here, and mine looks good. Rashad ordered some kind of beef and noodle dish for himself. This spot is the bidness, for real.

Rashad bows his head, grabs my hand, and says a short prayer over our food. Really cool. “Was that okay? I didn’t even ask you. I’m sorry.”

I let out a little giggle. “I pray, Rashad. That was fine.”

“Good, ’cause I wasn’t really thinking. I just feel really comfortable around you, I guess.”

“Same here. My mama would like you too.”

What is wrong with me? Why did I just say that? Can someone please get me some Kaopectate for my diarrhea of the mouth!

“Would she like me better than she likes Ricky?”

“What makes you think she likes him?”