Get Over It (15 page)

Gia laughs out loud. “We're broken up, so technically, Rashad is the first guy of my new romance novel. You were done at the end of the last book.”

Ricky turns a deep shade of red. “Rashad can have your evil self. All you want to do is throw that dude up in my face all the time. I don't throw my girlfriends up in your face.”

Me, Piper, and Hope exchange surprised glances, and I notice that Piper's tears have stopped. The drama is a good distraction for her. Maybe we should keep it up all day long.

“What
girlfriends
?” Gia asks. “And we're talking multiple chicks? So are you a ho now, Ricky?”

Ricky hops off his bar stool and throws both his arms in the air. “Don't worry about it! I can do whatever I want and whoever I want. You're kicking it all over Atlanta with Rashad.”

“I'm not calling him my boyfriend! Rashad and I are just friends,” Gia yells.

“Yeah, right! Friends with benefits!”

“Oh, is that what you're doing? You're out here getting it in with every girl on the Georgia State campus?” Gia asks rapid-fire questions that come out so harsh I want to duck before I get hit by a syllable or something.

Ricky says, “It's none of your business what I do. I don't interrogate you about your dates with Rashad, so don't try to interrogate me.”

Hope snatches a plate of French toast from Sam and greedily munches it as the battle ensues, and Piper walks up to the counter to get a better look. I knew these two were leading up to a bitter finale! I didn't know it would come today though.

Since I happen to know that Gia's thing with Rashad really is only a friendship, it makes me wonder if Ricky is bluffing too. According to Kevin, he only takes the numbers for show, but now he's trying to convince everyone that he's some type of ladies' man.

Kevin swallows a mouthful of food and chases it with a swig of milk. “Stop it, Ricky. Please stop, before I put you on blast.”

“Stay out of this, Kev,” Ricky warns.

“Speak your mind, Kevin!” Gia says. “Speak your mind!”

I cover my mouth with one hand to keep from cracking up laughing. Kevin looks conflicted. I know he doesn't want to spill Ricky's secret out here in the kitchen, but more than anything he wants Gia and Ricky to get back together.

“Kevin, I swear on everything if you get in this you are going to regret it,” Ricky says.

Kevin smiles slowly. “Ricky, you have absolutely nothing on me, because my heart is pure and my motives are noble. If I lived in King Arthur's time, I'd be a freaking knight. So, your threats are empty!”

No, this dude did not just say King Arthur. Now Piper, Hope, and I are all struggling to hold back laughter. Tears trickle down Piper's cheeks, but they're not the sad kind. They are the kind that accompany a gut-busting laugh. Sam has an amused facial expression too, as he continues to serve up French toast like he's on a breakfast cooking show. He's given a plate to Piper, who initially tried to resist, but I guess the cinnamon scent wafted toward her nose and she gave into the yumminess too.

“Kevin, I can't believe you're keeping secrets from me,” Gia says. “I'm the one who mainstreamed you.”

“That is true, Kevin,” Hope says. “Not too long ago, you were the weird dude who lived at his grandparents' house. Gia got popular and brought you with her. You owe her.”

“Man . . . you betta not side with these girls,” Ricky says. “Bros are supposed to be first, right, Sam?”

Sam's eyes widen. “I didn't know we were on the same team. It sounded like you were Team DeShawn, so . . . er . . . uh . . . I don't really have a dog in this fight.”

Hope pounds on the counter. “Spill it, Kev. Spill it, Kev. Spill it, Kev!”

We all join Hope with her chant. “Spill it, Kev! Spill it, Kev! SPILL IT, KEV!”

“The pressure is too much!” Kevin says. “Ricky is lying about the girlfriends! He has no girlfriend! And he tore up the room the first time Gia went out with Rashad!”

“Kevin!” Ricky roars.

We all burst into laughter—well, everyone except Gia. The look on her face is utter relief.

“Does he cry himself to sleep every night because he and Gia aren't together?” Sam asks in the midst of a giggle.

Kevin cocks his head to the side as if he's thinking. “Well . . . not every night.”

Another round of laughter ensues. Ricky's face is so red that it's almost purple, but to everyone's surprise, Gia walks up to Ricky, puts her arms around his neck and gives him a huge kiss!

When they let go of their embrace, Ricky's shade of red is probably more from embarrassment than anger.

“This doesn't mean we're back together,” Gia says.

Ricky looks confused. “Well, what does it mean?”

“It means that we're not over. But you have to move. You can't live here with me anymore.”

Now everyone knows what that means! The purity house is in trouble. We've got to get these hormones out of here.

“You can stay in my condo until I get moved,” Sam says. “I've still got some stuff to get figured out in New York, and there's an air mattress, a refrigerator, and utilities.”

Ricky stands there in shock. His world's just turned totally upside down in a two-minute time frame.

He finally opens his mouth. “Kevin . . .”

“Just shut up and thank me, man.” Kevin keeps eating his food like a man who has accomplished a great victory.

“I do thank you, but I can't let you get away with breaking the man code,” Ricky says.

Everyone gasps. As Ricky opens his mouth to speak, I suddenly know what he's about to do, but I don't have enough time to stop it.

Kevin must know too, because his eyes widen and he says, “Noooooooo!”

“Piper, Kevin is in love with you. So in love, in fact, that he helped clean you up last night after your series of unfortunate events. He has random pictures of you in his phone that he gazes at when no one is looking. He practices asking you out in the mirror.”

Hope, Gia, and Sam howl with laughter. I'm too shocked to make a sound, and now Piper is the one who looks embarrassed.

“You helped last night?” Piper asks.

“Yeah, but I would prefer to erase that image of you from my mind,” Kevin says.

“I'm glad I don't remember,” Piper says.

Piper and Kevin stare at each other, but say nothing else. I think Piper has to process it all, before anything happens, if it does happen.

“Do I need to move too?” Kevin asks.

Piper lifts her eyebrows. “Um . . . well . . . I don't think you're in any danger of breaking your purity vow right now.”

“Oh!” Sam says.

“Wow, I feel real stupid right now,” Kevin says. “Thanks, Ricky.”

“You're welcome,” Ricky says.

Piper gets up from her bar stool and walks over to Kevin. She hugs him and kisses his cheek. “Thank you, Kevin. For last night, I mean. You're a real friend.”

“But he wants to be friends with benefits. . . .” Sam says.

“No, I don't,” Kevin retorts. “I'm okay with being friends.”

Piper says, “I didn't say that your purity vow was safe because I don't like you. I said that because I respect your vow. I wouldn't do anything to make you break it. You're too good of a friend for that.”

All of my friends' drama has temporarily taken the spotlight off of me and Sam. I'm glad, because I'm not ready to announce anything about choosing Sam.

Hope says, “So, I'm going to be the only one boyfriendless around here, huh? Kevin, where in the heck is my true love? Get your little cupid bow and fairy dust and sprinkle a little on me!”

Everyone bursts into laughter yet again. This is a funny, funny day. And everyone needed laughter after last night's tragedy.

“Y'all, when I went outside earlier, it was Sharday,” I say when the laughing dies down.

Piper frowns. “What did she want?”

“To apologize, actually. She's reporting Peony to their advisor.”

“So it was Peony that slipped something in my drink?” Piper asks. “I only had one martini, by the way.”

Just like I thought. They put something in that alcohol other than a laxative, but we can't find out exactly what. If Piper is found to have drugs in her system, it might affect her scholarship money.

“Yeah, it was her,” I say. “But I think I have the perfect way to get them back.”

“Is someone going to get hurt?” Kevin asks. “Because I can't be a part of it, if someone is going to get hurt.”

I get off my stool, walk over to Kevin and smack him on the back of his head. “Ouch!” he yelps.

“What do I look like?” I ask. “I'm Sunday Tolliver, pop star and Goody Two-shoes at heart. No one is going to get hurt, but they are sooooo gonna get burned.”

“If they're not gonna get hurt, then what do you have planned?” Gia asks.

“Well, since you and Ricky are a team again . . . you need to put on your choreography hats. We've got work to do.”

“What are you thinking?” Piper asks.

“Just wait and see! It's going to be awesome. It's going to rock! It's going to be epic!”

The Gamma Girls never should've messed with one of mine. We might have a purity thing going on, and we might be pretty nice. But when you get us riled up . . . we can bring the ruckus.

Those GPGs won't know what hit 'em.

I hope.

M
ystique has invited me to Pappadeaux for lunch. She probably is just being nosy and wants to fill me in on everything that happened after we left Big D's party. We haven't hung out in a while. Haven't even talked about her new artist that's going to be the next big thing.

“I'll have water with lemon please,” Mystique tells the waiter when he takes our drink orders.

“Coke for me,” I say.

Mystique shakes her head as he walks away. “You're never gonna learn with all that sugar, Sunday. You're gonna look behind yourself one day and see your booty dragging the ground, it's gonna be so big.”

“Really? I always wanted a video vixen's booty!”

Mystique laughs. “Ugh! Like Big D's girlfriend? She looks like she smells like pork grease.”

“Mean girl! Shelly is hot! Don't talk about her.”

“Shelly is stupid! D is making all this money, and she can't convince him to marry her. The least she could do is get pregnant or something. The way he cheats, that thing is definitely not going to be permanent. Your cousin wised up!”

“Don't bring Dreya into this, Mystique. Not cool.”

“I'm just saying. She got a ring and a baby. So when Evan decides to trade her in for the new model, at least she'll be set financially.”

I do not like the way this conversation is going at all. Mystique is going to wind up making me mad. “Sam told me about your new artist. The little girl.”

“Oh, yes! Latia! She's half Puerto Rican and half black. She calls herself Blackarican, and she can blow! Disney is all over her. They're even talking about giving her a television show. That's more than I had before I ever released a single.”

“For real. When does her record drop?”

“At the end of the summer. We're still trying to line up the perfect track listing. It's tough with the kid acts. They either blow up or are one-hit wonders. We don't want that for Latia.”

“Why didn't you ask me to write a song for her record?” I ask.

Mystique looks surprised, as if the thought never occurred to her. “Do you want to? I thought you were too busy with your record to have time to write for a kid.”

“I have time to write for a kid that might have a multi-platinum release. You know I've got paper to stack.”

Mystique pauses for a long moment. “Your sound is a little too old for us, but you can send a demo or something to Epsilon and see if they like it.”

I can submit a demo to
Epsilon
? Oh, it's like that?

“For real, Mystique? You're gonna treat me like a songwriter you don't know? That's how we're doing that?”

She chuckles. “Come on, Sunday, you know it's not like that. You're actually putting me in a tight spot right now. I don't want you to be mad at me if we don't use your music.”

“Why would I be mad? You are straight-up tripping.”

“I'm sorry, girl. I didn't mean it that way. Email me something, and I'll give it to Zac.”

I shake my head and take my glass from the waiter as he shows back up with our drinks.

“Are you lovely ladies ready to order?” he asks.

Mystique rolls her eyes. I wonder if the compliment irritates her. She says, “I'll have the blackened red snapper, with a side of broccoli.”

“Give me the Pappadeaux feast!” I say. “With an extra piece of catfish. Thank you!”

The waiter smiles at me and says, “I'll put those orders right in for you. Would you like a basket of bread while you wait?”

Mystique says, “No. Just bring us our salads. We'll have vinaigrette dressing.”

I laugh out loud. “She'll have vinaigrette! I'll have ranch. And bring the bread too, with extra butter.”

When the waiter walks away, Mystique says, “Shoop. Shoop.”

“What does that mean?” I ask.

“That's the sound of your booty as it drags on the floor.”

I bust out laughing. “Don't hate on my high metabolism.”

“Whatever. You're just gonna give the bloggers yet another story to write about you! Sunday Tolliver gets gastric bypass! It'll be right behind the other stories. Team Sam or Team DeShawn, who should get it? And Sunday Tolliver's bestie has an accident in the VIP!”

I shake my head. “That was messed up they put that in the blogs.”

“Girl, please. They are trying to get that click rate up. Your girl shoulda been more careful. You never let someone hand you a drink.”

“Right. Sam slipped up like that too.”

Mystique smiles. “That's the story he told you.”

“It's not the truth?” I ask.

She takes a sip of her water before responding. “I'd just be careful about believing his stories. He's really convincing, you know. But, I'm Team DeShawn, so I'm probably biased.”

“So why are you Team DeShawn? You don't know him that well. What makes you pick him over Sam?”

“DeShawn is more your speed. He's not industry, so you know, he's gonna be able to show you another side of life that doesn't have to do with music.”

“But Sam can understand everything that comes with the music. He gets me.”

“Do you really want your man to be in the business?”

I give Mystique a crazy look. “
Your
man is in the business. Everybody calls y'all a power couple.”

Then, it hits me. She doesn't want me with Sam, because we would be too powerful together. The industry's next “it” couple. And really, we'd be bigger than her and Zac. Zac is a good producer, but he's nowhere near as good as Sam. Mystique isn't a songwriter either. But Sam and I would have it all. We'd have songwriting, producing, and me as an artist. We'd be unstoppable.

“You have no idea what I've had to go through with Zac,” Mystique says. “That scene at the wedding was the tip of the iceberg with the groupies. I'd rather have a regular guy with a normal job. Not some dude who gets panties thrown at him.”

That's what her mouth says. But there was nothing stopping her from finding someone regular. Nothing at all.

“So are you saying you're not happy with Zac?” I ask.

“No, I'm not saying that. I just think it could be different for you. You could have what I don't have.”

“What's that?”

“Security. You won't have to worry about where your man is, and what he's doing. Sam's already proven that he can't be trusted. Him hooking up with that girl at the club should've been enough for you, but it wasn't.”

I'm about to lay it all on the line now. “I heard you set that little encounter up. Is that true?”

“Who told you that, Sam?”

“I've heard it from multiple sources.”

I watch Mystique's face go into thinking mode. She's probably wondering how much I know, or what proof I have. I'm giving her nothing to go on with my expression. I've got the straight poker face on. The fact that it's taking her this long to answer gives me all the proof I need.

“It's not what you think, Sunday. I was testing him.”

This chick sounds absolutely bananas. “What do you mean, you were testing him?”

“I was trying to see whether or not he was worthy of you. If he fell for bait, then he wasn't worthy. If he stood strong, then he was the one for you. It's simple really.”

“How would you like me to test your man? Let's see how Zac fares with some ecstasy in his system and a half-naked groupie in his lap. Let's see if he passes.”

Mystique shakes her head. “I already know he's a cheater. Zac and Sam are two peas in a pod. Why do you want the same drama that I have? I am trying to help you.”

I stand up to leave. I cannot look at this girl another second. “Don't do me any more favors, Mystique. I'll decide who I want to be with. You don't get to control me.”

I storm out of the restaurant looking furious, and of course there's a paparazzo right outside the door. Mystique can't leave home without one, and apparently he followed us here.

“Hey, Sunday! How are you doing?” he asks.

“I'm good.”

“What's the matter?” he asks. “You and Mystique have an argument?”

I roll my eyes at him. “How about this beautiful spring weather?” I ask.

He laughs out loud. “Okay, I see you don't want to talk about that. So, do you have anything to say to your fans? Who's winning? Is it Team DeShawn or Team Sam?”

“It's Team Sunday all day every day.”

I rush past the paparazzo as he continues to snap pictures of me going to my car. I hope I swing my legs in correctly, or they'll have pictures of my crotch online in the morning. That's the worst part of this job. The cameras in my face, waiting to capture every emotion and every private moment.

I speed away from the restaurant and from Mystique's friendship. She says that she's trying to protect me from Sam, but I don't believe her. I think that she is watching out for her throne. Guarding it.

That little girl Latia better be careful not to shine too hard, because if her light gets too bright Mystique is gonna try to stamp it out. She won't get a chance to put my light out, though, because I'm done with her mentoring. She can choose to look at me as competition if she wants, but I choose to view her just as she is. An aging star on the way to supernova. Soon she'll be nothing but a black space in time, swallowing up everyone around her.

And I'll still be shining brightly.