Not A Good Look (16 page)

M
y mom, Aunt Charlie, Manny, and I are in the living room watching one of Aunt Charlie's favorite movies,
Bad Boys.
Actually, any movie with Will Smith is a favorite of Aunt Charlie's. She calls him her tall, creamy drink of hot cocoa. Yeah, she's corny as what.

“Charlie, next time I'm picking the movie,” my mother says. “I think I probably know this movie by heart.”

“No, ma'am. You'll have us in here watching
The Sound of Music
or some mess. No, thank you.”

“There is nothing wrong with a musical. Julie Andrews gives a wonderful performance.”

Aunt Charlie and I look at each other and then both give my mother the hand.

“Forget y'all.”

As we watch a car chase with Will Smith and Martin Lawrence, we hear a loud knock on our window. It sounds like someone threw a rock at it or something.

“What the heck was that?” Aunt Charlie asks.

“I don't know!”

Then we hear a loud, ghetto voice screaming from our front porch. “Shawn! Send him out here! Tell Carlos to bring his deadbeat self up outta your house.”

Aunt Charlie hollers, “He ain't here, LaKeisha! You betta get up off this property before I put a cap in your behind.”

“You don't have a gun,” I whisper to Aunt Charlie.

“Shut up! She doesn't know that!” Aunt Charlie hisses.

“Oh, for goodness' sake,” my mother says. “I'm going over there.”

“Shawn! Last time, they shot Carlos. Don't go over there.”

“That girl is not going to shoot me.”

My mother goes over to the front window. “LaKeisha, Carlos isn't here. I don't know where he is.”

“Don't try to play me, Shawn! I know you riding hard for him. You're the one who gave him that twenty-five thousand dollars, so why wouldn't you help him?”

My mother frowns. “How do you know I gave him money?”

“Shawn, please,” LaKeisha says with a cackling laugh. “You know Carlos still deals with me, honey. I don't care how much money you give him or if you let him live with you, he still belongs to me and his daughter.”

My mother shakes her head. “Okay, whatever. I'm not about to have a stupid argument with you through my door.”

“Why don't you be a woman then and come outside?”

“For what? So we can fight or one of your brothers can shoot me? I already told you Carlos is not here. If you come back, I'm calling the police on you.”

“When you talk to Carlos, tell him that me and my brother are looking for him. They got some unfinished business.”

“Whatever.”

My mother comes back over to the couch and sits down with a blank expression on her face. “If they find him, I think they're going to try to shoot him again.”

“I think you should get a restraining order on LaKeisha,” Aunt Charlie says. “She's workin' my nerves.”

“Maybe I will.”

I rub my mother's back, to try to make that stressed-out expression disappear. “Mom, it's gonna be cool. At least we know that they don't have Carlos. I'm sure he's alive and hiding out somewhere.”

“You're right, Sunday. I just have to keep praying for his safety,” my mother says.

“When I blow up, I'm gonna move y'all into a gated community so hood trash like LaKeisha can't walk up to our house,” I say.

“That sounds good, baby.”

“When you
and
Dreya blow up, you mean,” Aunt Charlie says. “It ain't all about you, not this time, Sunday.”

“What are you even talking about, Aunt Charlie? You and your daughter be on some other stuff.”

“I just don't understand why you had to copy Dreya with the record deal. She just couldn't have her own shine, could she?”

“Her own shine? Are you kidding me?” I ask.

“You always get praised for being smart, getting in college, and all that. And as soon as Dreya gets something on her own, here you come trying to steal that, too.”

I stand to my feet, totally furious. “I'm sick of y'all trying to act like I stole something from Dreya. I'm the one who wrote the hook that got her the record deal! I wrote all the songs on her record! Why shouldn't I have a shot, too?”

“Listen to you. You're so selfish, Sunday.”

“Mom! Are you gonna let her just talk to me like that?”

“Charlie, stop. Let the girls fight it out amongst themselves. We shouldn't even be getting in this. I'm going to bed.”

“But the movie isn't even over yet,” Aunt Charlie says.

My mother just gets up and walks to her bedroom and closes the door.

Aunt Charlie glares at me. “I'm not gonna let you steal this from Dreya.”

“Is that a threat, Aunt Charlie?”

“No, honey. It's a promise.”

“C
an you see me / can you see me? / Tell me what you want me to do / 'cause I wanna see me with you.”

I sing the hook to the first song I've written for my album. Big D is bobbing his head and Sam bites the inside of his cheek. This is his thinking pose.

“It's all about a girl who feels invisible to this guy she really likes,” I explain.

“I like it,” Big D says. “It's so different from what you write for Drama, and it has a different sound from the song you wrote for Mystique. You're a chameleon, girl.”

“Each voice is different, I guess. I write for the voices.”

“Well, you're doing your thing, girl.”

“What will the verses sound like?” Sam asks.

“I've only written the first one. It goes like this: When I first saw you / you were so incredible to me. / All I could do was watch you / a guy like you would never talk to me. / Feels like I'm hiding in plain sight. / Wish you'd just open up your eyes / Can you see me, can you see me? / Tell me what you want me to do / 'cause I wanna see me with you.”

Now Sam is rocking back and forth. “That's hot, Sunday!! This has a rock-soul feel and needs some funky drums. Get ready to have a number-one hit.”

“You think? I thought it was kind of different. What if people don't get it?”

“People get hot music,” Big D says. “It's universal.”

“Big D, can I ask you something?” I ask.

“Of course.”

“Do you feel like I'm trying to steal Dreya's shine?”

Big D laughs. “You can't steal someone's shine. You either have it or you don't.”

“I know! That's what I keep telling myself, but I think my aunt and cousin are getting to me.”

“You don't just shine, baby girl, you glow!” Big D says. “And I promise, you're gonna be in this business much longer than your cousin.”

I feel myself blushing. “Thanks, Big D.”

“When I heard you singing over Drama's vocals and bringing life to those songs, I knew you had something special.”

“So why did you present Dreya to Epsilon Records instead of me?” I ask.

“Because it takes someone like Mystique to believe in a talent as unique as yours. They would've never listened to me. Drama, she's typical. She's what they expect from R & B chicks. You are in a class by yourself.”

“You deserve this, Sunday,” Sam says. “Dreya is just tripping.”

“Whew…all this praise is making me thirsty!” I say with a chuckle. “I'm going upstairs for water—anybody want something?”

“Nah, I'm good,” Sam says.

“I'll take a bottle of water.”

I skip up the stairs feeling really good about myself. Big D said that I'm in a class by myself! Sweet!

Truth is standing in the kitchen, making a sandwich, looking pretty darn regular. Not like you would think a rapper on the brink of blowing up would look.

“What are you 'bout to grub on?” I ask.

Truth smiles. “A Dagwood, girl. You don't know nothin' 'bout that.”

“It looks like a big ole meat sandwich! You must be hungry.”

“I could eat.”

“Well, don't let me get in the way. I only need water.”

“You know, I was thinking about our reality show,” Truth says.

“You got some ideas?”

“Yeah. I think the fans would really like to see us hook up.”

I burst into laughter. “Are you for real? What fans? They don't even know who we are yet!”

“But they will. And you're so much sweeter than Drama. I think they'd all be team Sunday.”

“Yeah, everybody except Sam.”

Here Truth goes again, stepping into my personal space. “You sure you couldn't imagine yourself kissing me?”

“I'm sure.”

“Well, I sure could imagine myself kissing you.”

I back way up. “Truth, this is not the business.”

Truth steps all the way up, cornering me and leaving me no place to escape. He takes my face in both of his hands and gives me a deep, knee-buckling kiss.

“You'll change your mind about wanting to kiss me.”

He strokes my face before leaving the kitchen with his sandwich and beverage. I touch my lips that still tingle from Truth's kiss. I can't tell if he's serious or if he's just playing games with me. I know one thing—Dreya wouldn't think any of this is funny.

I look up, and Sam is standing at the top of the steps. How long has he been there? How much did he see?

“Big D wants you,” Sam says.

Before I can ask why, Big D yells up the stairs, “Sunday! Come back down here! Mystique is on the phone. She wants to talk to you!”

Mystique calling for me? Get the heck outta here. That's hot!

For the moment, I forget about what Sam did or didn't see and run back down the stairs holding two bottles of water in my hand. I'll do damage control later.

“Here she is,” Big D says. “She's on speakerphone, Sunday. Go ahead and say what's up.”

I try to catch my breath. “H-hey, Mystique!”

“You sound like you just did a hundred-yard dash,” she says in her calm and warm-sounding tone.

“I pretty much did! How are you doing?” I ask.

“I'm great! I just recorded your song, and it sounds wonderful. You are so talented and beautiful, Sunday. You and Sam.”

“I don't think I've even been called beautiful before,” Sam says. “Thank you, Mystique.”

“You are very welcome!”

“I'm glad you like the song!” I say. “I know you're gonna make it a number-one hit.”

“This song makes me sound good!” Mystique says. “I appreciate y'all. And good luck on recording your album. I can't wait to hear it.”

“Thank you sooo much for this opportunity,” I gush. “You can't imagine how much this means.”

“Yes, I can! I remember how it felt to get my first record deal.”

“I guess you do know. But thank you just the same,” I say.

“You're welcome. Okay, I gotta go now, but I'll be calling and checking on you. My mother can't wait to meet you, too!”

“All right, superstar,” Big D says. “We'll talk to you later!”

“'Bye, y'all!”

We all yell good-bye into the speakerphone before Big D disconnects the call.

“That's what's up! Mystique calling you just to say hi!” Big D slaps me a high five. “Get used to it, Sunday.”

“How do you get used to somebody like Mystique calling you on the phone?” I ask.

“You will. You'll be getting calls from the entire industry soon,” Sam says.

His voice doesn't sound excited at all. He sounds sad.

“Speaking of the industry. Everyone in the A is going to be at Truth's album-release party next Friday at Club Pyramids. Make sure you're red carpet ready, Sunday.”

“Why does it have to be at Club Pyramids?”

Big D replies, “They offered to host the party. Free is always good.”

“I guess, but they're a bunch of thugs over there,” I fuss.

“That drama is not your drama, Sunday.”

“I guess.”

Big D puts his arm around me. “Plus, you'll be there with me. I won't let anyone hurt you.”

I give Big D a one-armed hug. He's a big guy. But is he big enough to block a bullet?

S
am rolls through to pick me up for the release party. We're going to all leave from the studio in a limo, so Sam is gonna take me over there. It feels like we're going to prom!

I went and got my hair done in a tight roller set that's making me look like brown-i-locks or somebody! My dress is banging, too, but it's not something I'd normally wear. I go for comfort, and this skintight silver mini is the opposite of comfortable. But the dress is more comfortable than these stiletto heels.

“Sunday, honey, you look good!” my mother says.

“Thank you.”

“Be careful. I don't want you getting hurt by any of Carlos's enemies.”

I give my mother a hug. “Mama, you don't have to worry about that! Not tonight. It's gonna be all good.”

“Okay. But be safe, anyway. If something pops off, you make sure you're going the opposite direction.”

Sam steps through our front door. “You ready?”

“Yes!”

I follow Sam to his SUV and take in his outfit. Jeans, tight shirt, leather jacket, boots. He looks fine as what. I almost wish he was my date for the evening. “You looking hot, Sam,” I say before we get into his truck.

Sam spins around and replies, “Like you care.”

“What's wrong with you?” I ask. “Why wouldn't I care?”

“I saw you, Sunday. I saw you kiss Truth!”

He
did
see! No wonder he's been tripping.

“You saw Truth kiss
me.
I didn't kiss him.”

“I didn't see you pushing him away.”

“He caught me off guard. It was over before it started.”

“Sunday, I'm not gonna keep diggin' you the way I do if you're feeling Truth. I can't do it.”

“I'm not feeling Truth.”

“Are you feeling me, though? That's the question.”

“Sam…”

“You know what, don't even answer. It's cool. Let's do this party, do this red carpet bull, and get this paper.”

Sam gets in the SUV and leaves me standing on the sidewalk looking crazy. He doesn't even open the door for me like he always does. I let myself in the SUV.

“Sam, I'm afraid that if we get together during this tour and reality show, we won't last.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “Whatever, Sunday.”

“No, I'm for real! I don't think it'll work if it gets played out on TV for the world to see.”

“Sunday…it's cool. I get it, you're on the come-up and you don't want a boyfriend right now.”

“Sam—”

“No, let me finish. I haven't been hearing you this whole time, because I keep thinking you're feeling what I'm feeling. But it's obvious that you're not. I'm cool with being friends.”

“You're not angry?”

“Naw. Just don't think I'm gonna keep checking for you all like that.”

“Okay, but can I ask you a question?”

“What is it?” Sam asks.

“Are you still taking me to prom or do I need to ask one of the tuba players from the marching band?”

Sam sighs. “I want to go to prom with someone who's digging me. So I guess not.”

I swallow and look out of the window before he sees the tears in my eyes. I can't believe he's tripping all like this just because he saw Truth kiss me.

“You know I don't want Truth, right?” I ask.

“Sunday, you don't know what you want.”