Diva Rules (8 page)

T
he next morning, I strut into the school building without a care in the world, humming Britney Spears's “Work B**ch.” I just love that song. I swing my hips, working it in a pair of designer jeans that are practically poured on over my curves, with a cute lil black tee that has a big red cherry painted in the middle of my chest. The words P
OP MY
are scrawled across the cherry in black cursive. Ooh, you can't tell me I'm not servin' it.
You better work, bish!
My heels click against the tile as I make my way down the hall.

“Yo, what's goodie, Fee?” Kent calls out as I walk by.

“You, boo,” I say, winking at him.

“Yo, what's good, Fee?” Luke wants to know. “You comin' to my party next weekend? It's gonna be live, yo. Got them drinks on deck.”

“Ooh no, thanks. I'm not even tryna see you pissy drunk in ya boxers again.”

He laughs. “Yo, chill, chill.”

“No. You need to chill on the drinkin', boo. You're one pint away from a rehab stay.”

He laughs. “Nah, nah. Never that. I'm on my grown-man ish. I holds mine, baby.”

I smirk. “Uh-huh. And that's why there's flicks of you on ya knees prayin' to the porcelain gods all up on Instagram. Yeah, you holdin' it all right, boo. Right around the toilet bowl.”

I keep stepping, hair bouncing every which way as I walk.

“Daaayum, baby, let me get some'a that thick shake . . .” I glance over my shoulder. It's Marcellus with his nasty self, grabbing his crotch. “I gotta whole box of condoms just for you.”

“Hold ya breath, boo. This shake ain't for you. The only thing you can get is a hall pass to the clinic.”

He laughs. “Damn, you cold.”

I wave him on. “Uh-huh. Cold as ice, baby.”

Up ahead, Keyshaun stops talking to two of his boys when he spots me 'n' says, “Yo, what's poppin', Fiona, baby?”

“You 'n' all'a dem baby
muhvers
, boo. I hear you got some other dumbo knocked up.”

He laughs. “Nah, nah. My mans 'n' 'em ran up in that. I was strapped.”

He gives his boys pounds.

I roll my eyes. “Well, you need to be strapped to a gurney 'n' castrated.”

“Ouch!”

His boys laugh.

“Oh, a'ight, a'ight . . . I see you, Fee,” Benji calls out as I continue down the hall. “Let me get up in them jeans with you.”

“Benji,
boom
! Not today, lovey.”

“Damn, Fee, baby,” Christian aka Crusty Drawz says, practically drooling as I walk by him posted up at his locker. “When you gonna let me hit that?”

“Middle finger up,” I snap, tossing my right arm 'n' middle finger up in the air at him. “Never that.”

“I'm sayin' . . . you can get it all night for free, word is bond, yo.”

“And you can get ya face slapped.”

He laughs. But he knows I'll do his face real dirty if he presses me. So he kindly stays in his lane. “Fiona, you my peoples, yo. You know I'm only effen wit' you.”

“Uh-huh.”

I peep Cease scoopin' LuAnna up in his arms, giving her a hug. She's all grins 'n' giggles, like she's all stuck on silly. He lets her go when he spots me, but I act like I don't see him 'n' turn the corner. Then of course I hear some hatin' trick say something slick, tryna disguise her voice. “Tramp on deck.” I don't peep who says it at first until I spot Quanda 'n' Samantha eyeballin' me.

“Ooh, don't do it, booga-bears,” I say, wagging a finger over at them. “You bully-azz hoes don't want it. Not today, hun. Sam, where's ya drunk-azz mammy, boo? I heard she was down on the Ave. picking through the trash again for ya dinner.”

“
Bish!”
she snaps. “Where's ya damn mammy? Least mine wants me.”

“Yeah, only when she's drunk,” I snap back. I stop in my tracks when she says something slick about my father. He's dead. And he's off limits to talk about. Go in on Cruella all day, but keep my father out ya mouth. “Ooh, don't do it, Miss Piggy-Wiggy. You know you don't want it. You don't even wanna play the daddy game, boo.”

“No,
you
don't want it, ho.”

I laugh, sliding my hand down into my bag, feeling for my travel companion—Miss Swiss Army.
Let this bitch say something else slick 'n' crazy 'n' I'ma take this blade straight to her face
.

I toss my hair. “Leap, booga-bear.”

“No, you leap,” she shoots back.

I laugh, giving her the finger, then stepping off. “Talk to the phatty.”

I climb the stairs to the fourth floor, then make my way toward the bank of lockers. I blink, blink again, as I approach my locker. Brent is standing there, grinning at me as I approach.

“Hey,” he says. “I was hoping to see you before homeroom.”

I give him a confused look, then glance around to see who else is in earshot. “For what?”

“About last night. I—”

“Oh no, oh no,” I say, cutting him off. “We are not even about to do this here.”

He looks over my shoulder down the hall, then back at me. “Nah, it's nothing serious.” He lowers his voice to almost a whisper. “It's just that I kinda wanna keep what happened between us on the low. Feel me?”

I laugh, opening my locker. A note falls to the floor. “Listen, boo.” I reach down 'n' pick up the note, stuffing it in my back pocket. I eye him. “I gave you a lil taste of heaven 'cause that's what I wanted to do. But trust. I don't kiss 'n' tell.”

I go back to rummaging through my locker for my books for the first three periods.

“Yeah, I know you don't. Me either.”

I peer around my locker door 'n' look at him. “Well, I wouldn't care if you did or didn't. All I know is, I'm not saying anything. What we did is nothing newsworthy, so no worries, boo. Trust.” I slam my locker shut. “It's like it never happened.”

Between me 'n' you, the night ended in less than twenty minutes. I'm not messy so I'm not gonna put him all up on blast like that. But let's just say, boo-boo couldn't handle the heat.

He gives me a dumb look.

Bless his lil heart.

I reach up 'n' kiss him on the cheek, then spin on my heel, heading down the hall toward homeroom. It's not until I am sitting in my second period class that I remember the note I have tucked in my back pocket. I pull it out, then slowly open it. It's another poem. I frown, flipping the paper over looking for any clue, any sign as to who coulda slid this into my locker. Just like with the other poem. There is none.

At first I think it might be from Brent since he was in fact standing at my locker when I walked up to it this morning. But then I quickly shake the craziness of that outta my head. I start reading:

I blink. Omigod. I read it again, then silently pray that whoever is leaving me these poems isn't some cuckoo stalker. The last thing Miss Fiona needs is a nutcase riding her heels. Oh no, boo. Chickie don't play that. I quickly fold the note, then slide it down into my bag.

“G
irrrrrrrl,” Miesha says, setting her tray down in front of me 'n' pulling out a chair. She takes a seat. “Omigod, I got some juicy scoop for you. Wait. Why didn't you text me back last night?”

I look up at her. “What text? I didn't get any texts from you.”

She tilts her head. “Uh-huh. Wrong answer. Try again.”

“No, for real.” I pull out my phone 'n' scroll through it. “Oops.” Sure enough, there's a text from her:
GIRL
I
GOT SUM SCOOP
4
U
!
CALL ME

“My bad,” I say apologetically. “I don't know how I missed that.”

“Well, you did. But, whatever. Annnnywho . . . guess who's checkin' for you,
hard
, girl?”

I frown. “Oh boy. Should I even care?”

“Yesss, hun, you should.”

I groan. “Who is it now? And if you tell me it's some boy in the Glee Club with a thong fetish, or that cute Middle Eastern boy, Ahmad, with the hairy back, I'ma scream.”

She cracks up laughing. “Eww. No, girl.” She waves me on. “I'm not even tryna see you with no boy wearing a rug on his back. I wouldn't do you like that. Although it would be hilarious to see you combing his back.”

I can't help but laugh myself. “Ugh. Girl, the only thing I'd do with that boy's back is run a lawn mower over it. I can't do nothin' else with that. He needs a good wax 'n' a new back.” She keeps laughing. “No. I'm dead serious, Miesha. I don't need any more news about some freak of nature wantin' a slice of my cherry pie. The bakery shop is closed. I'm not doin' any more American horror stories.”

“Girl, I can't.” She laughs. “Trust me. I wouldn't do you like that. This is major.”

I tilt my head. “Okay, I'll bite. Who? Brent?”

“
Brent?
Girl, no. Why'd you think it was him?”

I shrug. “He came up to me yesterday 'n' asked me if I wanted to chill 'n' grab a bite to eat.” I decide not to tell her that the only thing that got eaten last night was, well, um . . .
me
, of course. Or that he can't hold his excitement in for long before he starts howling out like some wolf. Oh no, hun. Fiona isn't even about to do him like that. So since I ain't one to gossip or kiss 'n' tell, we gonna keep movin' on.

“Ooh, interesting. Well, he is real cute. But Brent's too nice for you, Fiona. You're like a man-eater. You'd eat that boy up alive. I don't think he's ready for that kinda heartbreak, girl.”

I feign insult. “Omigod, I wouldn't do
him
like that. He's too fine.”
And has a tongue like an erupting volcano.

She laughs. “Lies! Oh yes, you would.”

I suck my teeth. “Whatever. Well, if it's not Brent, who is it then?”

She takes a sip of her drink, raspberry iced tea in a glass bottle. She pulls a napkin from off her tray 'n' dabs her mouth with it. “Cease, girl.”

I blink, blink again. “
Cease?
Girl, bye!”

“No. I'm serious. That boy's big on you, boo.”

I raise a brow. “And where'd you hear this craziness from?”

“It's not craziness. Trust.” She leans in, lowers her voice. I have to strain to hear her over the lunchroom chatter. “You can't say anything. But Tone told me last night that he keeps beatin' him in the head about you. Girl, that boy's sweatin' you on the low. Why you think he stays grinning in your face?” She toots her lips. “Mmph. I think he wants to ask you out.”

I roll my eyes. Please, all Ceasar wants is to finally get him a lil taste of heaven before we graduate in a few months. Not gonna happen. Mmph. Fine or not, I'm soo not interested.

“No, thanks. I'm not thinking about that boy like that.”

“Girl, why not? Tell me you don't think he's fine.”

“Yeah, he's fine all right, 'n' real nasty.”

She laughs. “Girl, don't front. Nasty's right up your alley.”

I smirk. “Ooh, you know me so well, boo. But Cease can't do nothing for me that I can't get from some other lil boo-daddy. Trust.”

“Girl, stop. So you're sayin' if he stepped to you on some
let's chill
type ish, you wouldn't? Or what if he asked you to prom? You'd turn him down?”

I gaze across the lunch tables, just in time to spot him laughing it up with Antonio 'n' Luke—another one of his boys on the basketball team—as they walk into the cafeteria. He looks over in our direction. He's wearing a pair of shades, but I know his eyes are on me. I can feel 'em.

I look away. Bring my attention back to Miesha. “Yup. I sure would.”

She chuckles, plucking a grape from her fruit salad. “Yeah, right. Lies you tell. You know you'd jump all over that.”

“No, I wouldn't. Cease tried to hook up with me freshman year 'n' it didn't work out then, so I know it's not gonna happen now.”

“Why not?”

“Because . . .”

“
Because
what?”

“Uhh, because I caught him kissing this ugly, pie-faced girl with big horse teeth.”

“Girl, bye. That was three years ago. People change.”

“Uh-huh. Not dogs like him. I was humiliated, to say the least, that he'd choose that horse head over”—I run my hands over my body—“this.”

“And I'm sure he's been kicking himself ever since.”

“Well, he should be. Still, I don't believe in second chances, boo.”

She shakes her head. “You act like you scared he might turn you out or something.”

I suck my teeth, flicking a dismissive wave at her. “Turn
me
out? Ha! Never that, boo. Nasty or not, I'm not looking to get down 'n' dirty with Cease; that's all. Besides, isn't he supposedly messing with flat-back?”

“Who?”

I suck my teeth. “You know, Chantel.”

She shrugs. “Oh. Uh-uh. Not that I know of.” She laughs. “Omigod, you so wrong for callin' her that, though. Flat-back? Really?”

“Well, that's what she is. All boobs 'n' no booty. Girl, you know I ain't messy, but, uh, I get so sick of seein' her pants all sucked up in her crack. She needs her azz beat for comin' outta the house tryna rock tight jeans. That girl has a nasty case of suction. Isn't that some kinda disease?”

Miesha cracks up laughing. “Omigod, you know you not right for that.”

“Mmph. But am I wrong? Anyway, didn't Tone mess with her, too?”

She twists her face up. “Mess with who? Chantel? Girl, boom. Who 'n' what Antonio did before me is
not
my concern. Trust. But no. She played head doctor, once. That's about it.”

“Ole jizz guzzler,” I say, turning my nose up. “Nasty dome gobbler. I heard she stayed with her face pressed down in some boy's crotch.”

“Umm,” she says, twirling a finger at me. “You know, that's what they say about you, too.”

My eyes pop open. “Ooh, lies 'n' falsifications, girl!
Boom, boom!
Don't do me. I don't know where you heard that mess from, but take it back to the lab, boo. I'm many things. Trust. But a lollipop licker ain't ever been one of 'em. My mouth doesn't go anywhere south.”

She starts laughing. “Girl, you know you be
drankin
' that watermelon.”

I laugh, waving her on. “Oh, okay, Beeeeyoncé. Think what you want. But Fiona ain't putting her mouth on nothin', boo. And she ain't down on her knees slurpin' seeds all willy nilly. Trust.”

She cracks up laughing.

I pick at my tuna salad, scooping a forkful into my mouth. I spot ole messy Quanda at one of the tables across the room 'n' roll my eyes.

“What?” Miesha asks, looking in the direction of my glare. “Oh.” She keeps laughing, shaking her head. “What that chick do now?”

“Girl, that trick tried to do me the other day 'cause she saw me walkin' down the hall hugged up with Pauley.”

She shakes her head. “What, she tried to go with the hands?”

“Yeah, right. Picture that. Ooh, I wish she woulda tried it. Please, boo. Please do. All talk. Trust.”

Miesha asks what Pauley said when all this was going down with Quanda.

“Not one damn thing. That punk stood there lookin' all goofy 'n' ish.”

“Mmph. I knew he was soft as cotton.”

“Yeah, but he's hard as brick 'n' steel in all the right places,” I say, thinking back to our night of naked Twister down in his basement. I shudder. “What a waste.”

She sucks her teeth. “Umm, you do know that there's more to a boy than his sex, right?”

“Ohhhhh-emmmmmm-geeeee! Now you sound like my sister Leona.”

“Well, it's true.”

I give her a blank look. “Like what? Do tell.”

But before she can explain to me what more a boy has to offer other than sex, Antonio 'n' Cease are headed our way. “Ooh, here they come now,” she says all excited 'n' whatnot, like I'm supposed to be all grins 'n' giggles about one of the school's biggest man-whores tryna check for me.

No ma'am, no sir. Not interested. I stand up.

“Wait. Where you going?” she wants to know. I tell her to the computer lab to finish typing an English paper. “Ooh, lies! Don't even try it. Since when you start going to the computer lab?”

“Since today.”

She starts laughing as Antonio 'n' Cease walk over.

“Hey, Tone,” I say.

“Wassup, Fee? How you?”

“I'm good.” I eye him as he leans in 'n' kisses Miesha on the lips.

“How's my sexy babe doin'?”

She blushes. “Better now.”

I roll my eyes.

“Yo, what's goodie, My?” Cease says to her. She speaks back. Tells him nothing much. He turns his attention to me. “Oh, so you not speakin'?”

I flick him a wave. “Hey, Cease.”

“Oh, so it's like that?” he says, eyeing me. “Why you act like you ain't see me earlier? You just gonna play me to the left like that when all I'm tryna do is give you my heart?”

“Boy, bye. You play too much.”

“Nah, I'm serious. Be my valentine.”

I suck my teeth. “Valentine's Day was last month, fool.”

“Nah, baby. E'eryday's V-Day when you're around.”

“And the answer is still no.”

Miesha gives me the eye.

“Oh, word? That's how you doin' it?” He spreads open his arms. “A brotha can't get no love? I mean, damn. Can I at least get a hug, then?”

Before I can tell him hell no, he grabs me up in a big hug, grinning all crazy. “Damn, you smell good, girl.”

He sniffs me. “Whew. You got me goin' through it, yo. I wanna lick ya neck.”

Miesha giggles.

Antonio laughs. “Yo, Cease, man. You wildin', yo.”

I roll my eyes. “Whatever, Cease. Where's ya lil girlfriend?”

“
Girlfriend?
Nah. I don't have one of those,
yet
. But maybe if you act right I'll make
you
my girl.”

I step outta his embrace. “Boy, bye! Not interested.” I glance over at Miesha 'n' Antonio as I'm grabbing my tray. “All right, lovebirds, peace out. I'm outta here.”

“Oh, word? A'ight then,” Antonio says, eyeing Cease.

“You need a ride after school?” Miesha wants to know, easing her arm from around her boo-daddy's neck. I tell her no. Tell her my sister Sonji is picking me up 'n' taking me to the mall to go shopping right after school.

I try not to look over at Cease, but I can feel the heat of his gaze on me. I pop my lips 'n' toss my hair.
Get ya look on, boo!

“Ooh, I so hate you right now,” Miesha says. “Weren't you just out with your other sister, like yesterday, shopping?”

I laugh. “No. We only went to the spa to get facials 'n' mani-pedis. And that was two days ago.”

“So. I'm still jelly.”

Antonio pulls Miesha into his arms 'n' kisses her on the side of her head. “You ain't gotta be jelly, babe. You know ya daddy got you. I'ma take you to get ya feet done on Saturday, a'ight.”

She grins. “
And
my hands?”

He laughs. “No doubt.” He takes her hand in his 'n' turns it over, then kisses her palm. “Yo, my baby got them soft hands.” Miesha giggles.

Ugh. These two are sickeningly in love with each other.

“Yo, let me see them pretty toes, Fee,” Cease says, licking his lips. He's seated at the table, plucking a sweet potato fry from off Miesha's half-eaten tray of food. “You know I gotta foot fetish, right?”

I smirk. “How cute.”

“I'm sayin', though”—he lowers his voice—“when we gonna chill? Me 'n' you?”

I roll my eyes. “Never, boo.” I toss up two fingers. “Deuces. I'm out.”

“Yo, Fiona?” Cease calls out.

I glance over my shoulder. “Yesss?”

“C'mere for a sec.”

I suck my teeth 'n' stalk back over to him, popping my hips real hard 'n' fast, making sure everything shakes for all to see.

“What is it?”

“Let me get some sugar, yo.”