Diva Rules (4 page)

“Yuck,” I say.

Miesha laughs.

I roll my eyes.

“Yo, Fee, you need to stop playing with my emotions, for real for real,” he says, feigning hurt.

“Boy, bye. And you need to stop playing with them nasty gizzards hanging in ya drawz, but you don't hear me talking.”

He and Miesha crack up laughing.

“Girl, I can't with you.”

“Yo, Fee, you shot out,” he says, shaking his head. “That's why I effs with you, yo. I'ma catch y'all later, though.”

“Bye, Cease,” Miesha says, waving at him.

“Yeah, whatever,” I say, eyeing him as he makes a beeline into the boys' bathroom.

“Girl, you know you need to stop throwing Cease so much shade.”

I swipe my bang from my face. “Girl, bye. I'm not thinking about him.”

As soon as we round the corner, I spot loudmouth Quandaleesha. Not that I'm into being messy. But, chile, she's ratchet at its finest. And she's nuttier than a peanut patch. She's also Antonio's ex-boo. But I ain't one to gossip.

I glance at my watch. “Girl, we better step on it 'n' get to homeroom. You already know you can't be late. And Mr. Evans will flip his pacemaker if I step up in his homeroom late again. And trust. I have better things to do with my time than sittin' up in somebody's ole funky detention today.”

“Later,” she says, laughing as she steps into her own homeroom just as the bell rings.

“Ooh,
bish
,” I hiss, racing down the hall. “I hate you.”

Miesha pulls out into the traffic, making her way across the other side of town to get to my house. As she drives I spot a group of boys coming out of a corner store 'n' immediately start salivating.

“Oooh, cutie alert! Blow the horn, girl!” I say, all excited as she drives by a group of sexy stud muffins walking down the Ave. “Oooh, yes. Three of 'em look like they could get it.” I roll the passenger-side window down 'n' yell out, “Hey, boo-daddies. I see you.”

They call out, holding their arms open like, “Yo, wassup, baby . . .”

I stick my head back inside the car. “Girl, stop the whip. Pull over.”

She presses down on the accelerator, rolling up my window with the press of a button, shutting down any hopes of snatching up a new boo-daddy. “Wrong answer, girl. I don't think so. I'm not checkin' for none of them boys.”

“Umm,
hellooo
?” I snap a finger in her face. “I am. Just because you're all stuck on lover's island, doesn't mean you gotta try'n sink my ship. Let my boat float, boo.”

“Well, you can float it on ya own time, girl. I'm tryna get home. It's bad enough I stayed behind waiting on
you
after school.”

“Ooh, don't do it. I told you I couldn't be late to homeroom. It isn't my fault that old sea monkey, Mr. Evans, has it out for me. That man lives to do me in. ”

She laughs. “Well, that's what you get. You see I made it on time.”

“Oh, whatever. The least you coulda done to help ease my detention woes was pull over so I could find solace in the arms of one of them sexy thug-daddies.”

She glances over at me. “Not today. Not on my time.”

I roll my eyes. “Party pooper.”

“Whatever. Talk to the hand. You're too boy crazy.”

I bat my lashes 'n' feign insult. “Who,
moi
?”

“Yes,
you
.”

“I beg ya pardon. Never that! I'm
not
boy crazy. My boo juice doesn't splash for just any ole boy, hun.”

She laughs. “If you say so.”

“Ooh, ya messy behind's tryna serve me.”

“Girl, bye. Think what you like. I'm tryna keep you from a buncha mess.”

I give her a look. “Uh-huh. Sounds more like you tryna call me a ho on the low.” I laugh. “And it ain't no secret, boo. I know I am.”

She makes a left turn onto Martin Luther King Boulevard, stopping at a light. I hear someone standing on the corner yelling out my name. I look. It's one of my ex-boos. Jerrell. Ooh, he's looking too damn fine for his own good. And mine. He isn't one of the tallest boys I rolled around 'n' got tangled up in the sheets with, but he sure was one of the sexiest. Deep, dark, delicious chocolate, mmph; need I say more? At five eleven, boo-daddy was (and still is) built like an African warrior. Chiseled outta soot. Dark like tar, but sweet like molasses. Mmm, yummy. And trust. What they say about the darker the berry the sweeter the juice, ain't no rumor, boo. And it ain't no lie, either.

Oh, then why aren't we still together?

Uhhh,
hellooo, hellooo
. . .
ding, ding, ding
! Because like with all the rest, I got bored with him. After about six weeks of feasting on his goodness, I dismissed him. Chile, cheese. He was tryna boo-bag me up 'n' I was not havin' it. What I look like, being wifed up? No, hun. Fiona Madison doesn't answer to no boy. And she doesn't commit to just one boy, either.

I toss him a lil wave. He flaps his tongue out at me. I lick my lips 'n' turn my head just as Miesha peels down the street. She swings a right onto Bergen.

“Fiona, girl,” she says, glancing over at me. “I don't mean no harm, but you're too pretty to be messin' with all these boys out here. Don't you wanna settle down with one boy?”

I snap my neck in her direction, shifting in my seat. I look at her like she's crazy. “
Whaat?
Settle down? Who,
me
?”

She laughs. “Yeah,
you
. You know. Just chill with one boy, instead of having a buncha different boys all up in your face.”

What? Girl, bye!
Miss Chickie has let love soak her brain if she thinks I'ma ever be the settle-down type of chick. Ha! Chill with one boy? Never that. I don't think so. Doesn't she know every diva should always have a rotation of cutie-boos at her beck 'n' call?

“Girl,
boom
! You have gone completely cuckoo-crazy. Why on earth would
I
wanna do some mess like that, huh? Boys are like playgrounds—no, no . . . like amusement parks. They can be fun 'n' tiring at times. And ohh so exciting the next. There's always something to hop up 'n' down on, bounce on, slide down on 'n' spin around on. It's like one big thrilling rollercoaster ride. You never know what you're gonna get or how the ride is gonna end until you strap up 'n' take it for a spin.”

She turns down onto my street, shaking her head. “Ohmigod! Fiona, girl, you're a hot mess!” She starts laughing. “Only you would say some crazy ish like that. What about love, girl?”

I rapidly blink my eyes at her. Oh no, this messy
heffa
didn't just go there! Cursing me with that, that, that dirty
L
-word!

“
Love?
What about it?”

“Don't you want it?”

“No. I'm allergic to it.”

She laughs. “Whatever. No. I'm serious. Don't you ever wish you had a boo you could call your own? Someone you can love 'n' know he's the same boy who loves you back?”

“Girl, please.” I tsk. “There's no guarantee he's gonna love you back.”

“Well, no. But you can't be afraid to take a risk, either. Sometimes you have to trust your heart. Look at me 'n' Antonio. I wasn't beat for him at first 'cause I knew he was a dog, but he kept pressin' me until I finally gave in, 'n' look at us now. Madly in love. And I trust him with all my heart.”

“Ooh, Oprah, boo,” I say sarcastically, rolling my eyes dramatically. “I didn't know you had it in you. Sign me up.”

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever. You don't know what you're missing out on, boo.”

“Girl, let me stop. I do have it.”

She gives me a confused look. “You have
what
?”

“Lots of love.”

She stops her car in front of my house 'n' tilts her head. “Oh, really?”

I smirk. “Yes. I
love
turnin' boys out. It ain't no secret. I love sex, boo. Don't you? 'Cause I know you 'n' that boo-daddy of yours stays playin' Twister in the sheets.”

She laughs. “Sex is not the most important thing with me and Antonio. Yes, I enjoy it with him. But it's not all we do. I love him for him. Not for what he does or doesn't do in bed. I enjoy his company.”

I blink. “Dear gawd!” I clutch my chest. “
Boooorrrring
.”

“Fiona, I think it's time you shut ya legs more 'n' open ya heart to love, boo.”

“Girl, no.” I shake my head. “Not interested. Love doesn't have a home here, boo. Lust is the only thing livin' in my heart.”

She gives me a look that borders more on pity than appreciation for my truths. And I give it right back. Trust. There's nothing pitiful about
me
not wanting to be boo'd up with only one boy. If God didn't want me to indulge my desires, why would He tempt me, huh? Why would He dangle so many fine, mouthwatering cuties out in front of me, knowing my weakness, if He didn't want me to reach out 'n' sample 'em, huh?

I tell you why. Because He wants me to indulge. Because monogamy is about as played out as them dusty hood roaches on
Love & Hip Hop
, chasing behind that old nasty Joe Budden, okay? Ain't nobody got time for that. So, forbidden fruit or not, it is my mission, my divine diva purpose, to pluck more than one sweet, juicy, sexy boo-daddy from off the vine, gobble him up, then spit him out 'n' send him on his merry way. And, yes, boo. I stay doing it for the vine. Don't you?

“One nice boy is all you need, girl.” She unlocks the car doors. “All that messin' with a buncha boys is real whack.”

I wave her on, then grab my bag. “Umm, hello? Speak for ya'self. Why settle for one nice boy, when I can have two or three? No, thanks, hun. I'll leave all that stay-true-to-one-boo for you 'n' Tone.”

She curls her lip up. “Mmph. Looks like you got company.”

I look over toward the house, 'n' sure enough. There's Benji—one of my ex-BWBs—standing on my porch, uninvited 'n' unannounced. Now that's a no-no. Still, I can't help but lick my lips at the thought of seeing him stripped down to nothing but his boxers and Timbs.

Anyway, I'd been messing with Benji since like the beginning of the school year up until three weeks ago, when I decided to finally
chop
him. But every now 'n' then he still comes around. The thing with us, we had a special understanding. He didn't sweat me. I didn't sweat him. He wasn't my man. Just a boo-daddy with benefits. So he did what he did 'n' I did what I did. It cut down on all the drama. There was no cheating. No lying. And we both stayed very happy.

Well, that's until he no longer stayed on script 'n' started tryna check for me like I was wifey. Stepping up to me at school tryna mark his territory. Getting all up in my face. Boy, bye! He mighta
thought
he was Ike, but I ain't Tina 'n' he ain't beatin' up this box. So,
boom
!

“Girl, please. That boy 'n' his love-stick are of no further use to me.” I open the car door.

“Call me later,” she says.

“Okay. Ummm, can I help you?” I say to Benji, shutting Miesha's car door.

“What's goodie, yo?” A smile eases over his fine, brown face.

I roll my eyes. “I don't know what's good with
you
. But I know what's not
goodie
. And that's
you
stalking my porch.”

He chuckles. “Go 'head wit' that, yo. Ain't nobody stalkin' you.”

“Uh-huh. Lies. But whatever! Why you here?”

“What you think, yo,” he says, grinning again as I make my way up the stairs. Mmph. With his ole freak-nasty self. “I'm tryna chill.”

I roll my eyes. “Define chill.”

He sucks his teeth. “C'mon, yo. Don't front. You already know what it is.”

“Uh, noooo. I know what it was. And I know what it isn't. If you wanted to chill with me, you shoulda brought ya butt to school 'n' chilled in class.”

“Nah, I'm good. I wasn't beat today.” He tries to pull me into him. He smells of weed 'n' alcohol.

I frown, pushing him back. “Are you frickin' kidding me right now? You're lit up.”

“Nah. But I'm nice.”

I sigh. A boy with no ambition, no motivation, no dang drive—other than gettin' high 'n' gettin' his rocks off—is such a turnoff. I brush by him, opening the glass storm door.

He steps up in back of me. “Don't front, yo. You know we hot like fire together.” His breath is hot on my neck.

I smirk. “Uh-huh. Hot fire or not, you ain't gettin' up in here, lil boo-daddy. So go have a seat. Ya heat 'n' hot flames ain't welcome here. So go take it over to some other ho's spot 'cause you ain't burnin' up no sheets over here. Not today.” He tries to force his way in behind me as I slide my key in 'n' open the door.

He presses himself up into me. I bump him backward. “I know you straight up buggin', boy.” He grabs me again. I push him off of me, again. “I'm not playin', Benji. The only thing I want is for you to go home. Or get maced down. Now, good day! Please 'n' thank you.”

“Oh, word? It's like—”

I slam the door in his face, then press my back up against the door 'n' slide my way down to the floor. As sure as my name is Fiona, that boy's lucky I knocked him outta his rotation slot 'n' I'm done with him. Otherwise, I woulda wrapped my lips around him 'n' had me a taste of that lil boo-daddy juice. Trust.