Doing My Own Thing (4 page)

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Authors: Nikki Carter

BOOK: Doing My Own Thing
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Truth wipes the still-dripping blood with the back of his hand. He goes downstairs to the studio portion of Big D's house, and Dreya sits on the floor with tears running down her face.
“Dreya, are you okay?” Yeah, I was just mad at her like fifty-two seconds ago, but in an emergency, Tollivers roll deep.
She closes her eyes and gives a little dismissive head shake. “Of course I'm okay. He barely touched me. I just tripped, that's all.”
Okay, that's not what I saw, but it seems Dreya wants to believe some crazy edited version of the truth.
Big D says, “Why don't we just watch the rest of this later? I knew y'all was gonna be mad, but dang . . .”
“Just go, Sunday,” Dreya says with a small, trembling voice. She sounds like she's fighting really hard to keep from crying.
“Do you want me to drive you home?” I ask. I don't feel one-hundred-percent comfortable about leaving her here with Truth.
“No. And don't tell my mother about this. I don't want her coming up here overreacting.”
The last time I kept an important secret like this, Dilly almost wound up kidnapped, and he could've been murdered. So, I don't care what Dreya says. I'm telling Aunt Charlie all about this thing.
Big D says, “Look, Sunday, I'll make sure she gets home okay.”
I hesitate for a moment longer, not sure if I trust Big D to handle this situation and his boy, Truth, properly. It's in Big D's best interest for all of this to go away and get swept under the rug. I don't think Epsilon Records would be cool with this at all.
“Okay,” I finally say. “But Dreya, you better call me if Truth puts his hands on you again.”
“He won't. Stop blowing this out of proportion,” Dreya says with an irritated tone in her voice.
How in the world is she irritated with someone worrying about her simple behind? She gets on my nerves.
As an afterthought, I add, “And you might want to fall back with all that slapping too.”
3
S
am and I ride in silence as we head home from Big D's studio. Sam not talking is always a bad thing because it means he's either brooding or mad about something. I'm not trying to have the “Sunday, be my girlfriend” conversation again! It makes me weary. So before he goes there, I'm gonna steer him elsewhere.
“You want to go over my house and watch a movie or something?” I ask.
“Chick flick or action?”
“I was thinking action.
Wolverine
to be exact.”
“Is your Aunt Charlie there?” Sam asks.
“Probably. Is that a deal breaker?”
He laughs out loud. “She and Manny are funny! I love hanging out with them.”
“Aunt Charlie is funny. She's gonna be so happy about being on the reality show. This is gonna be like a dream come true for her. Do you think it's gonna be a hit?” I ask Sam as I pull onto I-20.
Sam runs a hand over his low fade and licks his lips. That's a habit he has, something he does when he's thinking. It's one of my favorites of Sam's little tics. The cutest one, at least.
“I think it will be a hit,” Sam says, “but at what cost? Drama and Truth seem like they're over.”
I drum my fingers on the steering wheel as I come to a complete stopping point on the freeway. This Atlanta traffic is madness during rush hour. We should've waited before we left Big D's house.
“I don't think they're over. They're too perfect for each other.”
“Maybe you're right,” Sam concurs. “But what's going on with Bethany and Dilly? I didn't know they'd gotten that close.”
“Yeah, they kind of did after the tour.”
Before the kidnapping attempt, Dilly had not been shy about his crush on me. He hadn't pushed all the way up, but he always let it be known that he was catching feelings. But after Los Diablos, when Carlos's gangsta cousins tried to snatch Dilly from the club, he'd decided to return Bethany's attention. They don't seem like a match to me. . . . But hey, what do I know?
“This is what I can't figure out,” Sam says. “If he hates you so much and she hates Drama, why do they even come around? It's not like Big D even wants them there.”
I ponder this for a long moment. We're not going anywhere for a while in this gridlocked traffic, so I've got plenty of time to put on my thinking cap as we creep on I-20, inching toward my exit.
“They just want to blow up. Going through us is probably the easiest route to do that.”
Sam nods in agreement. “Yeah, I can see that. Are you still gonna help Bethany with her album? Since Drama knows about Bethany and Truth, doesn't that kind of mean that the arrangement is off?”
“Well, I promised her I'd help if she stopped messing with Truth. It didn't really have anything to do with Dreya finding out. I promised I wouldn't tell, but I guess she should've sworn the BET producers to secrecy too.”
This makes me think of Truth putting his hands on Dreya, and I feel myself get angry all over again. I feel myself grip the steering wheel in frustration as I finally get off on the Candler Road exit.
“Can you believe that Truth pushed Dreya like that? It looked like he was really trying to hurt her.”
Sam's face scrunches into a frown. “I don't think he was trying to hurt her. But why would she just slap him like that?”
“I agree that she shouldn't have slapped him, but are you saying that makes it okay for him to retaliate like he did?”
Sam shrugs, and points across the road at Captain D's. “Can you stop and get something to eat? We never did get any of Shelly's lasagna.”
My stomach growls in agreement.
We roll through the Captain D's drive-thru and order two ten-piece family value packs, with fries and cole slaw. Twenty pieces of fish ought to be enough for any and everybody who might appear at our house.
While we're waiting for our food (why do I always have to pull forward and wait when I come here? Why don't they keep cooking fish like all night? Don't they know I'm hungry? AARGH!), Sam looks over at me like he wants to say something deep.
I cannot handle him being deep on an empty stomach.
Sam says, “Sunday, you be playing games.”
“How so? What are you talking about?”
“I'm just thinking of how it seemed like you had Dilly twisted and crushing hard on you, and then you just blew him off.”
OMG! What is this fool tripping on? I blew Dilly off because I knew Sam's little sensitive butt would be mad. I must admit that when I first saw Dilly, I thought he was fiyah, but that was it. And plus, Dilly is younger than me. I wasn't about to be boo'ed up with him!
“I never planned on talking to Dilly. I didn't have him twisted.”
Sam laughs. “No, for real, check out. You had Truth chasing behind you, and me taking you to aquariums and other assorted bull crap, and you ain't checking for nobody.”
“We went on another date, didn't we?” I ask.
After the tour, Sam and I had a great time on our one date. We went out to dinner at Justin's and even got the VIP treatment once the waitress recognized me. That was hot!
“Exactly. One date, and you acted like you were doing me a favor the whole time.”
“No, I didn't. I just didn't commence any follow-up activities,” I explain. “You know I've got to do this reality show thing with just me. It's crazy right now.”
Sam chuckles sadly as we take our food from the Captain D's worker. “One of these days I'm gonna stop begging you, Sunday.”
I don't answer him as I drive off from the restaurant and head toward my house. I believe that he's not going to wait around forever, for me to make up my mind. I don't think it'll take forever, though. I like Sam, I've just got work to do. People to see, places to go . . . you know.
Sam's brooding look has evaporated by the time we pull into my driveway. This is good, because I don't want to watch a movie with him sulking and glaring at me out of the corner of his eye.
When I open the front door, my five-year-old cousin, Manny, is standing in the living room eating a hot dog—his treat of choice. I hold up the bags from Captain D's and he drops his hot dog on the floor.
“You coulda told a brotha you was bringing some food, Sunday!” Manny fusses.
I put the food on the table, pick Manny up, and kiss him on the cheek. “Hush all your noise, little boy.”
“Get me a plate, Sunday,” Aunt Charlie says from the couch. She's drinking a can of Pepsi. This is her new thing since she gave up cigarettes right after our tour. She said that she thought the cigarettes were making her look old, and if her daughter was going to be on TV, then she couldn't be looking all geriatric.
“Okay, Auntie. Is my mother here?”
“Naw. She's working overtime. Somebody called in sick and she volunteered to help carry their mail route.”
Sidebar. I can't wait until I make enough money so that my mother doesn't have to carry mail anymore! She works so hard, and something on her always hurts. Her back, feet, knees, ankles . . . I just want her to sit at home and chill, sipping tea and watching movies.
“Hello, Ms. Tolliver,” Sam says politely as he takes a seat at the table next to Manny.
“Ms. Tolliver? I'm Charlie, baby. Ms. Tolliver is my sister.”
Sam laughs out loud. “Can I call you Ms. Charlie? I don't feel right calling a grown lady by her first name.”
“I guess I can roll with Ms. Charlie. Where y'all coming from?”
“Big D's studio. We were watching the reality show DVD,” I reply as I place a plate of fish, hush puppies, fries, and coleslaw in front of Manny.
“Why you ain't tell me! I wanted to see it too. Did I look fly?”
Sam replies, “Ms. Charlie, you were hella fine.”
“That's what I'm talking about!” Aunt Charlie stands up and does a little dance where she drops her booty halfway to the floor and pops back up.
Blank stare. Like mother, like daughter!
“Aunt Charlie, can I ask you about a hypothetical situation?” I ask, thinking about how I'm gonna tell her about Dreya.
“Hypothetical? Hmmm . . . yeah, go ahead.”
I clear my throat and walk over to Aunt Charlie. I hand her the plate that I've fixed for her.
“What would you say . . . if a guy . . . hypothetically . . . pushed his girlfriend to the ground and knocked the wind out of her?”
Sam's eyes grew large. “Sunday . . .”
I give him the hand. I'm telling my aunt about this. I don't care what Dreya says.
“This boy putting his hands on you?” Aunt Charlie jumps up and lunges toward Sam.
“Auntie, no!” I shout. “I'm not talking about Sam. I said it was a hypothetical situation.”
“Mmm-hmmm . . .” says Aunt Charlie, not totally convinced.
“So would it be okay for the boy to do that if the girlfriend . . . hypothetically . . . slapped her boyfriend in the face?”
Aunt Charlie chews her hush puppy and swallows it before answering. “Well, why did she slap him?”
“She found out he was cheating on her with a friend. Hypothetically.”
“Oh, will you stop saying hypothetically!” Aunt Charlie fussed. “If you're not talking about yourself then you must be talking about Dreya. That little dred-head boy is cheating on my daughter? Who he messin' with?”
“Ummmm . . . Bethany.”
Aunt Charlie stands to her feet and throws her hands in the air. “I told Dreya that girl was a snake! I knew it!”
“Something like that,” Sam says, “but Truth isn't innocent here either.”
“Yeah, I know. Especially if he thinks he can put his hands on my daughter and live to tell about it. I'm fixing to call Pookie and them.”
I roll my eyes. We do not have anyone in our family named Pookie.
“Well, while you calling Pookie, do you mind if we put a movie in? You always hogging the TV.”
Manny looks up from his plate with bright eyes and a huge smile. “What are we watching?”
“
We
are watching
Wolverine.
You are going to sleep, little man,” I reply.
Manny's smile turns all the way upside down. “Why you tryin' to play me? I like movies.”
Aunt Charlie pulls out her cell phone from the strap on her tank top. Yeah, that's where she used to keep her pack of cigarettes before she quit. I guess she feels naked without a square-shaped object on her shoulder. Blank. Stare.
“Dreya!” she screams into the phone. “Do I need to come up to that studio? I will beat the mess out of Big D and that little dredded-out thug.”
Sam covers his mouth to stifle a laugh. Me too. I'm imagining Aunt Charlie trying to go up against Big D. That would not be a good look for her!
“She hung up on me!” Aunt Charlie fumes as she starts pressing buttons on the phone again.
“Do you think we're going to get to watch the movie?” I whisper to Sam.
He laughs and shakes his head. “No . . .”
Finally, Aunt Charlie presses End on her phone and places it back underneath her tank strap. “So, Sunday, when you say he put his hands on her, was she hurt?”
“No, I don't think she was hurt. It was just the way that he did it.”
Aunt Charlie shakes her head and paces the floor angrily. “I keep telling her about those thuggish boys.”
“Big D said he'd make sure she got home safely. She wouldn't leave with me,” I say.
“Yeah, well, Big D better hope nothing happens to my daughter.”
I reply, “I think we're all hoping that nothing happens to Dreya.”
Sam nods slowly. I see him eyeing the TV as he chomps on another fish fillet. With Aunt Charlie this riled up, we might as well leave.
“Sam, you want to go to your house and work on some music?”
“Yeah, we can. Especially since we've got that new project that you signed us up for.”
I narrow my eyes into little slits. I don't need Aunt Charlie to know that we're working on Bethany's album. She would not take too kindly to that right about now.
I reply through clenched teeth. “Let's just go, Sam.”
“Can I finish my food, bossy girl?” he asks.
I just shake my head and throw my hand into the air. I sit down on the couch next to Sam after grabbing a plate with a couple of fish fillets and some fries.

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