Diva Rules (11 page)

“S
o what are you gonna do about Cease?” Miesha wants to know, pulling out her phone 'n' checking her messages. It's our lunch period 'n' she and I are sitting together as we usually do unless I'm gracing the cheerleaders' table, or she's either called over to sit with her boo 'n' his jock buddies at their table, or the lil lovey-dovey duo take it out to his or her car for a lil private time.

I frown, pulling a red velvet cupcake from one of my favorite bakeries in Harlem outta a small Tupperware container. “Uh, what do you mean, what am I gonna do?” I slide my tongue over the creamy whipped frosting. “Nothing.”

She stares at me. “Ugh! Omigod, what a freak.”

I shrug, smacking my lips 'n' licking more frosting before taking a bite into the moist mini-cake. I moan. “Ooh, this is so delish. I know I'ma have to call one'a my lil boo-daddies over tonight so I can burn these calories off.”

She shakes her head 'n' starts texting, her fingers clicking the keypad a mile a second before she finally looks up at me. “Antonio is always somewhere doing too much.”

I roll my eyes. “Oh, please. And what is Mister Wonderful doing now?”

“Ooh, save the sarcasm, heifer.” She wags a finger at me. “We are not about to get off topic. Now what do you mean, you're not gonna do
nothing
? Girl, are you serious?”

I bat my lashes. “Boo, I'm as serious as a one-day shoe sale.”

“Umm, let's see here.” She purses her lips 'n' taps a finger up to her chin as if she's in deep thought. “So, you're gonna potentially let a good guy slip right through ya fingers, is that what you're telling me?”

“Chile, boom! Not interested.”

“Omigod! You're such a liar.”

“I am not.”

“Now you're really lying.”

I laugh. “Okay. I am. Maybe. But I'm not really gonna say if I'm interested or not.”

She gives me a look.

“Okay, okay. Just a little interested.”

She claps her hands together. “Ooh, I knew it. And,
hunni
, curiosity always kills the cat.”

I put a finger up. “Uh-uh. Pump the brakes, honey-boo. That doesn't mean I'm
curious
enough to do anything about it.”

She gives me a confused look. “Um, and why not?”

“Because I'm not checkin' for him like that.”

Chickie immediately starts going in about settling down 'n' having a boo of my own, blah, blah, blah. Like really? Is she serious right now? Chile, boom! Ain't nobody got time for that. Like I said before, why would I settle for one boo-thang when I can have two or three or four?

“Girl, I keep telling you it's time you open ya heart 'n' let a lil love in.”

I press my lips 'n' tap my heeled foot against the floor, repeating my mantra: Never, ever, get too attached to a boy. All that letting a boy be your life is a no-no. And trust. Fiona Madison has no time for that.

I take another bite of my cupcake. Slowly chewing 'n' thinking, wondering if I should tell her that I've never really had a boyfriend, not like a boyfriend-girlfriend type of thing; or that I've never, ever, been in love before. Okay, lies, lies, 'n' more lies.

I have loved. Bubbles. And,
hunni
, it was love at first sight. He was so cute. Jet black 'n' sweet. I swear. He was my everything.

My lil boo gave me life!

Then my heart got ripped outta my chest when he died.

And I haven't been the same since. Chile, boom! It was horrible. I musta cried practically every day for almost a week before I was finally able to get over it.

Ish happens, right?

Still. It hurt. And I know I'll never, ever, find another fantail goldfish that'll be as special to me as Bubbles was.

But aside from him being the love of my life, nope. Well, okay, I've since fallen for Gucci 'n' Jimmy Choo 'n' Louis 'n' Marc Jacobs—who, by the way, has a really, really cute handbag I'd just die to have. But as far as falling for a living, breathing being? Nope. I've never been in love with a boy before. The whole idea of it makes me nauseous. No, seriously. It makes me really, really sick.

I unscrew the cap off of my bottled FIJI Water 'n' take a sip.

“You do realize you could be throwin' away the chance to lose your V-card to one of the hottest guys, besides my boo, at this school?”

I suck my teeth. “Ooh, shots fired!”

She laughs. “What, boo? You're not a virgin?”

I roll my eyes 'n' laugh in spite of myself.

“Speaking of ya future, boo,” Miesha says in a singsong voice as she stares straight ahead. “There he goes now.”

I follow her gaze, all the way across the cafeteria to where Cease is standing with Luke, all buffed 'n' sexy 'n' knowing he's fine in his loose-fitting jeans 'n' Affliction tee that wraps around his bulging muscles.

Ooh, I can't stand it.

I swallow. Then wave her on. “Girl, bye. Like I said, I'm not thinking about that boy.”

“So let me get this straight: You're really not gonna try to get with him?” She peers at me through narrow slits, her curious eyes taking me in as if she's waiting for me to confess to some hidden fascination with that boy. Please. I don't think so. I mean, yeah, okay... I said he was fine.
And?

So am I now supposed to roll out the red carpets, summon in the trumpeters, then bow at his deliciously big feet?

Chile,
boom
! I think not.

Fiona Madison will
not
be featuring Ceasar. No, ma'am. But that doesn't mean I can't look. Just not touching, that's all.

“Nope. Not interested,” I say, feeling my pulse quicken as he looks over in our direction.

I eye him as he 'n' Luke give a few of the football players dap 'n' shoulder bumps. Miesha teases me about tryna eyeball him on the low. I give her the finger 'n' she laughs.

I shift in my seat when they finally make it over to our table. He 'n' Luke speak to the both of us. We speak back. Luke pulls out a chair 'n' takes a seat next to Miesha.

“Yo, so what's good for the weekend?” Cease asks no one in particular as he pulls out a chair 'n' sits beside me.

Miesha shrugs. “I don't know. It's whatever Antonio wants to do.”

Cease smirks. “Awww, look at that. My boy got you trained well.”

She raises a brow. “
Bloop, bloop
. Wrong answer, boo. I trained
him
. Get it right.”

He laughs. “Oh, a'ight. Right, right. My bad.” He looks over at me. “So what's good wit' you? What you got planned?”

I shake my head. “Studying, that's about it. My life is over for the weekend.”

Cease scoots his chair closer to me, draping his arm over the back of my chair.

“Nah, you gotta think positive.”

“I am thinking
positive
. I'm positively sure I'm going to do horrible on this test if I don't get my mind together. And trust. Fiona doesn't do horrible well.”

“Don't sweat it, babe,” he says with a grin. “Dumb blondes are mad sexy, yo.”

Miesha 'n' Luke both find what he's said funny.

I don't. I punch him in the arm.

“Ha, ha, ha. Real funny.”

He rubs his arm, tryna rub the sting out. “Damn, babe, you got a nasty right punch.”

I roll my eyes. “And I have an even nastier left hook. So don't do me, boy.”

“Oh, daaaaaamn, son,” Luke says, laughing. “Sounds like she tryna call you out.”

“Looks that way to me,” Miesha teases. “Cease, rough her up.”

Cease leans back in his seat. Folds his arms up over his head. “Nah, it's all good. I ain't tryna rough up this pretty lil thing, yet,” he says all sly.

I buck my eyes open. “Uh, not ever.”

He smiles. “Yeah, a'ight. I welcome a challenge.” His gaze 'n' the way he's licking his lips is kinda unnerving me. And Fiona doesn't get unnerved. Not by some boy. But here I am, shifting in my seat. I cross my legs.

“And I'd love to do you. But you frontin' like you scared.”

“Awwww, sookie-sookie.” Luke starts making sex faces. And I can't help but laugh at his silly butt.

“Nah. Fiona ain't ready for all this over here,” Cease carries on, jokingly. Well, at least that's how I'm taking it 'cause this boy has no idea what I'm ready for. I peep what he's doing. He thinks he's gonna reel me into some kinda mind game. No, boo-boo. Not gonna happen. I'm too swift for that.

Miesha points a finger over at me, smirking. “Whatchu gonna do, boo?”

I suck my teeth, waving her on. “Chile, cheese. Not a thing. I'm not thinkin' about Cease.”

“It's all good, babe. But I stay thinkin' about you.”

I swallow. “Boy, whatever. You stay playing.”

“Nah, that nucca ain't playin', yo,” Luke volunteers, adding his two cents like somebody's asked him for it. Like somebody gives a damn. “He's dead-azz.”

Cease looks at me. Then winks.

I quickly look away.

It's like one minute I am breathing, my heart is beating, 'n' then the next: ___.

Flatline.

Dead to the bed!

Nailed to the bottom of the sea!

This boy has come over here 'n' has straight hijacked my whole groove.

“M
om told me the two of you got into it last week and what you said to her,” my sister Sonji says on the phone. “I can't believe how disrespectful you were.” I roll my eyes. That lady stays tattling on me, like my sisters are gonna check me. Chile, boom.

Check me, boo?

Who, you?

Not.

“Yeah. Well, I'm sick of her,” I say dismissively. “She's always comin' at me crazy 'n' I'm done with it.”

“She's still our mother, Fee,” she says like I need reminding of that dreadful fact. “And the way you spoke to her was crazy.”

“How you know? Were you there? Did you hear how she was coming outta her neck all crazy at me? No.”

“You're right. I wasn't there. But you know I know your mouth. And—”

“And you know hers. How many times did she slick-talk you?”

“No matter what Mom may have done or said to us, none of us would have spoken to her the way you do.”

“Omigod, Sonji! Really? You're gonna come at me like you tryna advocate for her like she's some victim? Chile, boom.” I suck my teeth. “You have your lil fancy life with ya hubby 'n' kids in Connecticut, while I'm stuck here with this miserable witch. Not once have you offered to let me live with you, so don't do me, boo.”

“Wait a minute. I'm not
doing
you, so take it down several notches, hun. And I'm not advocating for Mom. I'm simply saying that what you said to her I think bothered her. If you really wanted to move up here you'd be welcomed with open arms. And you know it.”

I frown. “Well, maybe. Still. You're not here with her. I am. And good if she's bothered by something I said to her. It's about time.”

She sighs in my ear. “Fiona, I know you're angry with her. And, no, maybe she hasn't been the perfect parent . . .”

“Oh, you think? I don't know why you 'n' Leona always wanna take up for her . . .”

“I'm not taking up for her,” she says defensively. “I'm—”

I cut her off. “Making excuses for her like you always do. I know she's our mother. I don't need to be reminded of that tragedy. But that doesn't mean I'm gonna ever respect her when she has never respected me. No, thank you. Not gonna happen. Not with Fiona, boo. No, ma'am.”

“That still doesn't give you the right to think it's okay to tell her to go jump in front of a truck, Fiona. That was way out of line, even for you.”

I blink. “No. That's
not
what I told her. What I
saaaid
was, if she's so miserable with her life 'n' with me in it, then she should just go toss herself over a bridge 'cause I'm not about to slice my wrists over her. No, ma'am.”

Okay, maybe I shouldn'ta said that to her. But you know what? Oh well. Once it came out, along with everything else that flew outta my mouth, there was no stopping it or taking it back. And trust. I gave it to her good 'n' gotdang dirty.

Not once have I ever cursed out my mother—even though there are many times when I wanted to. Still, I don't cross that line. And I probably never will. But do I serve her attitude? Yup. Lots of it. Do I let her know what I think about her? Yup. Every time she tries to do me, I do her back. Period. So why Sonji is on my line acting like I've committed some cardinal sin is beyond me. Yeah, I know all about how kids should honor their parents. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yada, yada, yada. And they should when they are being treated right; otherwise no, ma'am. There's no honor in a mother always frickin' ridiculing me. So, boom! I'm not subscribing to that channel of BS. So my sisters 'n' whoever else can miss me with that.

“And calling her a
whore
,” Sonji says tightly. “That was really uncalled for, Fee. And you know it.”

“Omigod! Lies, lies, 'n' more lies, Sonji. She called
me
one. And all I said was, it took one to know one. Boom, there it is. If she didn't want the heat, then she shouldn'ta turned up the fire.”

She sighs. “You are still responsible for what comes out of your mouth, Fee.”

“Oh, and she's not? Puhleeeeease.” She tells me I need to apologize. I tell her absolutely not. That I meant every dang thing I said to her. From her peeling her panties down 'n' sleeping with another woman's husband 'n' sexing him in the backseat of his car; to her gettin' knocked up, then expecting him to leave his wife for her. Oh no, hun. I let her know: Don't hate me 'cause life didn't go ya way.

I let her know that I wasn't the one who put her in the cuckoo ward for thirty days 'cause she suffered from postpartum depression right after I was born. No, hun. That is not my soundtrack to play. It's hers. And I'm not the one who walked out on her 'n' left her with four daughters to raise on her own before she got knocked up with me. No, sweetie. Don't take ya misery out on me.

I let her know that, too. And I also let her know that it wasn't my fault she didn't get the man but got stuck with a baby instead. Maybe my father did love her. But not enough to leave the wife 'n' family he already had over in Bayonne. I called her a trifling homewrecker 'n' a hater.

And guess what? She couldn't handle the truth. So you know what she did? She slapped me.
Whap!
Right across my face. But no worries, trust.

I didn't blink. Didn't splash a tear. Didn't even hit her back, or call the police on her, like I wanted to.

I ate it.

Just like I've eaten every-dang-thing else she's dished out to me.

Okay, okay. I
know
my mouth can be a lil extra 'n' my attitude a lil stank. But I don't bring it unless you bring it to me first. Then she had the nerve to say I'm grounded for the weekend. Ha! Picture that. Who, me? Not. What I look like, sitting up in this house on a weekend, no less. Yeah, okay, boo. Hold ya breath 'n' let me see how you make out with that. My name is Fiona. Not Boo-Boo the Fool. Trust.

“You should still apologize,” Sonji insists. I blink, pulling my cell from my ear 'n' looking at it like there's a set of jagged teeth on it before placing it back to my ear. Oooh, I wanna really give it to her, but I can't, won't. Like I said before, Leona 'n' Kara are more like mothers than my sisters. If it weren't for them, I'd probably be somewhere popping pills like they were Skittles 'n' tossing 'em back with caps of NyQuil. Or worse. So, no matter what, I keep it cute 'n' bite down on my tongue. And trust. It hurts like hell. But I'm chomping down on it 'cause I know meddling in my damn business 'n' tryna play mediator is what my sisters do, 'n' they mean well. Still. I said what I felt 'n' what I meant to my mother 'n' I don't think I should have to apologize to
her
or anyone else for
my
feelings.

“Wrong answer, boo. I'm not doin' that.”

“Why not? It's the right thing to do,” she counters. “There's still a thing of respecting adults even if you don't agree with them. Sometimes you gotta—”

“I know, I know. Know when to keep ya mouth shut, yada, yada, yada. Sorry. I'm not subscribin' to that channel. A closed mouth doesn't get fed or heard. And two things I'm not about to do. Starve or stay quiet.”

“Sometimes doing what's right,” Sonji continues, “doesn't always feel right.”

“Oh, really? For who? Like I told mommy dearest when she disrespected me 'n' we started goin' at it: I didn't ask to be born. But I'm here. That was her choice, not mine. So I shouldn't have to live my life feeling like I'm the mistake just 'cause some hot-drawz chick gave it up raw. She chose to have a buncha kids. Not me. But she takin' it out on me like I'm the one who held her down 'n' forced her to get her hump on.”

Boom! And I meant every word of that. And that's why she laid hands on me. Mmph. The truth hurts. Oh well. Her tryna slap my face off was worth everything I said to her.

I'm seventeen 'n' even I have enough sense to know having some mofo's baby ain't gonna get him to stay with you, or even want you after you done let him use you up. No, boo. I'm not claiming that as my fault. And I ain't pulling out no violins to play you no sob song. It is what it is.

And sorry,
hun
, I'm not tolerating disrespect. Not even from my own mother. I've put up with it long enough. And I'm sick of it. So love me, hate me, or slap me up, I don't give a damn. 'Cause the truth is this: I'm effen done holding back. That lady needs to know how badly she hurt me.

Like really?
White girl?
Are you kidding me? When she was busy letting a
white
man smash? Really?

Who does that? Calls their kids all kinda nasty names?

I swipe tears from my face. Then shake my head, just as another call is ringing through. It's Miesha. I tell Sonji to hold on. Put on my happy face, then click over. “Hey, girl.”

“What are you doin' later tonight?”

I swallow back my emotions 'n' tell her my sister Leona is picking me up for dinner around six, but after that not a damn thang.

“Ooh, good. I feel like bowling tonight. You down?”

“
Bowling?
Oh no, boo. Let me know how you make out with that. You not even about to get me into a pair of them ugly shoes.”

She laughs. “Oh, c'mon. Don't be so dang corny. Live a little. It'll be fun.”

“Mmph. Not interested. But look, I have my sister Sonji on the other line so I'ma have to hit you back.”

“Make sure you do. Bowling. Tonight, girlie. Me 'n' you. So don't get cute, boogah.”

“Ooh, you tried it. I stay cute. Trust.”

She laughs. “And you still ugly, boo.”

“Ooh,
bish
, bite me.” We both laugh, exchange a few more words before I tell her I'll call her back. I click back over to Sonji. “Sorry about that,” I say apologetically. “Now where were we?”

“We were about to go over your apology to Mom,” she says matter-of-factly, like I'm really about to sign up for that lie.

“Ooh, not. But good try.” We go back 'n' forth about why she thinks I should apologize 'n' it goes in one ear 'n' out the other. But I'm standing my ground, boo. And one thing about Fiona Madison: Once her mind is made up, there's nothing you gonna say or do to get her to change it. So Sonji can go have several seats with the apology crap.

It's not gonna happen.

I power on my laptop, then log into my Facebook page 'n' update my status:
F
EELIN' FRUSTRATED
.
B
ISHES KILL ME
. T
HEY CAN SAY WHATEVER DA HELL THEY WANT, BUT GET ALL CAUGHT UP IN THEY FEELINGS WHEN YOU SERVE IT BACK TO EM
. C
HILE, BOOM
! #
DONTEFFWIFFME
! #
TAKEITSTRAIGHT
2
YAHEAD
!

Three other calls ring through while I'm on the phone with Sonji—King, Travis, 'n' Benji. I don't bother clicking over, though.

“I'll give you that Louie I know you love so much,” she says, tryna bribe me. My knees buckle. Ooh, she's playing dirty. She knows how bad I want that bag. “I'll even throw in the red Michael Kors tote.”

I feel myself getting sick. Now I gotta make a decision between pride 'n' purses. I roll my eyes 'n' suck my teeth. “Y'all always do this ish.”

She laughs. “But we love you more.”

“Uh-huh. Y'all stay bribin' me to be nice to that lady, though.”

“Hey, we do whatever we have to do to help you 'n' Mommy coexist.”

I sigh. “Yeah, okay.”

“Is it working?”

I grunt. “Ugh! I hate you! Throw in a pair of heels 'n' we good!”