Time to Shine (6 page)
Authors: Nikki Carter
6
“S
pelmanites,” Gia barks in her bossy voice. “Let's get this dance perfected. I will get extra credit in our ADW class if we do this right for the program.”
pelmanites,” Gia barks in her bossy voice. “Let's get this dance perfected. I will get extra credit in our ADW class if we do this right for the program.”
ADW is our African Diaspora and the World class. It's mandatory for every freshman at Spelman. It's the one class I share with all of my new friends.
We've been practicing Gia's dance in the common area of our dormitory. Every time I see someone walking by, like they're going to get some rest, I envy them. Gia is ridiculous with her work ethic! I am tired.
“I'm not doing this dance,” Meagan says. “It requires way too much movement, and I am sweaty and hot by the first half of the song. That isn't cute at all.”
“There aren't going to be any Morehouse men at the program, Meagan,” Piper says. “It's going to be just us girls.”
“Are we doing this or aren't we?” I ask. “If not, I need to practice my Grammy performance.”
“What are you singing?” Piper asks.
“ âThe Highlight.' ”
Meagan says, “What are you wearing, though? That's more important than the song. Who knows who might see you on the red carpet? It could be your fairy tale prince.”
I laugh out loud. Meagan's priorities are always hilarious. It's always about how to land the husband with her.
Gia lets out a low wolflike growl. “Is this going to be a group effort or am I doing this dance solo?”
We trudge back over to our positions and go through the dance, this time managing to get through Gia's backbreaking routine without collapsing.
“Better,” Gia says emotionlessly when the music stops. “Next time, maybe we'll actually look like we
know
this routine.”
know
this routine.”
“Man, whatever!” Piper says. “I'm done rehearsing! I've got to study. You act like we're being paid for this performance.”
“I thought y'all wanted to do everything in excellence!” There's a pleading tone in Gia's voice that makes all three of us stop for a moment.
“Come on, Gia. What are you really stressed out about?” I ask. “It can't be this dance. I mean, it's really not that serious, you know?”
Gia sighs and wipes her sweat drenched brow with a towel. “It's Ricky. I don't know what he's tripping on, but ever since that Gamma Phi Gamma party, he's been acting some kind of way toward me.”
“What do you mean?” Piper asks. “Ricky is the perfect boyfriend.”
“There's nothing specific,” Gia says. “It's just a general feeling that we're drifting away from each other, and that there's nothing that I can do about it.”
“Do you think it's another girl?” I ask. I'm hoping not, because Ricky was giving me hope that there were some good guys still left on the planet. If he's playing Gia, I won't know what to believe anymore.
“No. Ricky wouldn't do that. He would break up with me before he played me for somebody else. That's our rule.”
After a long moment of silence Meagan asks, “Do you think that you'll marry Ricky?”
Gia nods. “I can't see myself without him. That would be all kinds of crazy to me if he married someone else.”
“Then you should probably see what he's buggin' about,” Piper says. “Don't let it sit for too long without you saying anything.”
Gia packs all of her dance gear into her bag, takes a long sip of water from her water bottle, and wipes the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. “I'm out, chickadees. Please do not forget that choreography. The Black History Month program is next week.”
Piper says, “It'll be fine, Gia. If we get up there and don't remember the moves, we can always just freestyle.”
“Uh, no. You cannot. Not unless you want to feel my wrath. Deuces, y'all.”
Gia jogs out of the dorm's common area, dialing her phone with one hand and struggling with her bags with the other hand. She's one of the most impatient people I've ever met. She was so in a hurry to know Ricky's malfunction that she couldn't even wait to get back in the privacy of our bedroom.
“So are we dismissed?” Meagan asks. “I'm going on another date with my Morehouse man.”
“This will be the third date, right?” Piper asks.
Meagan's grin brightens her entire face, and makes her sharp features look soft and warm. “This will be the third date. After tonight I'll know if he's the one.”
“What's so magical about the third date?” I ask.
“The first date is always super-duper awkward,” Meagan explains. “On the second date, you're still wondering if the person is going to do something crazy. But by the third date, you both are a lot more relaxed. If we do well on this date, he is definitely husband material.”
“You said he was pre-med, right?” Piper asks.
“So, what if, just for giggles we imagine that he never finishes medical school . . .”
Meagan frowns deeply. “Of course he's going to finish medical school.”
“But what if he doesn't,” Piper says. “What if he goes to work for a company that sells tennis balls and golf balls?”
“I would never marry a man who worked at a company like that. Maybe if he owned the company, we could talk.”
Meagan continues to amaze me with her focus on getting her Morehouse dream guy. But, I guess we're somewhat alike. We're both all about goals. Mine involve my music and getting this money, and hers are all about love and marriage.
Meagan gives me and Piper her signature air kisses and leaves us sprawled on the floor. I wonder if Piper is feeling as lazy as I am. After Gia's insane workout, I don't feel like moving, even though I've got more than enough things to do. I've got so much to do that I don't know where to start.
“Are you excited about going to the Grammys?” Piper asks after taking a huge swig of water. “I noticed you didn't ask us to backup dance for you this time. Are you hiring other people?”
I stand to my feet and stretch my limbs. “I'm not having dancers. I'm singing a ballad, so it's just gonna be me onstage. We thought it would be a good way to save money on dancers, travel, and all that other stuff, you know?”
“Y'all selling millions of records, but y'all penny pinching like that?”
I don't feel like explaining to Piper how all of these expenses are subtracted from my royaltiesâmy cash at the end of the day. And I am determined to stay paid. I haven't forgotten the miniature check Dreya got after having a hit record. That is soooo not gonna be me.
“Yes. I am a penny pincher. You see I'm still driving my Camry.”
“Yeah, but you're paying off people's tuition bills.”
I give Piper a half smile. I keep telling her that she doesn't have to keep thanking me for helping with her tuition bill. Her situation is kind of jacked, so I was happy to do it. It was the best thing I've done so far with my money.
“Did you get everything straightened out with your financial aid?”
She nods. “Still haven't located the mother unit, but my foster mom's lawyer was able to get me declared as financially independent. So, I should be straight as long as I keep my grades up.”
“I have to keep my grades tight too,” I say. “I didn't come to college just for show, but I didn't know it would be this hard.”
I got a paper back from my composition class that was a C+. I don't remember the last time I got a C on anything. I remembered writing the paper. It was a marathon session, powered by Starbucks coffee after a Reign Records listening party for Bethany's album. It wasn't my best work and I wasn't proud of what I turned in. Apparently, my professor agreed.
“Yeah, it's hard,” Piper agrees, “but I don't have a choice. Why you playing, I need to go study instead of sitting here with you.”
“I know, right! You want any coffee? I'm gonna do a quick Starbucks run.”
She shakes her head and frowns. “Ewww! No. And you need to stop drinking all that coffee.”
“It's my energy source.”
“If you do yoga with me in the morning, you'd have enough energy all day. You'd feel invigorated! I promise!”
My response to this is silence and a blank stare.
Piper and I part ways as she gets straight to our dorm and I rush out, looking a straight-up sweaty, hot mess.
Of course, because I'm riding the hot-mess train, I run into DeShawn on my way to the car. From the way his eyes do a quick sweep of my non-matching dance ensemble and high fuzzy ponytail, I can tell that I look worse than I think I do.
“It's the Grammy-nominated Sunday Tolliver,” DeShawn says with a grin.
“Hopefully, soon to be the Grammy-winning Sunday Tolliver.”
DeShawn gives me a fist bump in agreement. “I would hug you,” he says, “but you look stankadocious.”
I sniff my armpits and laugh. “Naw. I'm straight.”
Then, I bumrush DeShawn with a surprise hug. His subsequent attempt to escape causes us both to erupt in a flurry of giggles.
“Speaking of the Grammys, Mystique says I should ask you to escort me to the awards show.”
“Mystique says?”
“Well, she suggested.”
“And you agreed with the suggestion.”
“Not sure yet.”
“So, why are we talking about it?” DeShawn looks genuinely confused. I guess this isn't making much sense.
I shrug. “I'm just throwing it out there, in case you're busy that weekend. So, I can, um . . . know.”
DeShawn strokes his barely there goatee. “Well, if you happen to decide you agree with Mystique, I would cancel every hot date with every fine girl to escort you. It would be great for my career.”
His
career
? That's why he wants to go with me?
career
? That's why he wants to go with me?
“You do not have any hot dates,” I say.
“What? You betta recognize. A modelesque brotha like me? Why do you think I'm on the Spelman campus? I've got a study date.”
The twinge of irritation I feel at DeShawn's revelation catches me completely by surprise. He smiles as he watches my reaction.
“Excuse me,” I finally reply after a long pause. “I didn't realize you were so popular. It must be because of being in my video.”
DeShawn staggers backward as if I've punched him. “Dang, Sunday. That was below the belt.”
“I'm just sayin'.”
“Where are you going anyway? Don't you know the paparazzi are lurking in the bushes waiting to get a picture of your celebutante self?”
I didn't think of this. Mystique's head would probably explode if she knew I was going out in public less than runway ready.
“I'm getting coffee. Got a date with my laptop.”
“You might want to comb your hair first.”
I groan. Fixing my hair will take at least an hour.
“Or,” DeShawn continues, “I could pick it up for you.”
“I thought you were on your way to a date. Won't she be mad that you kept her waiting?”
“Oh, I was just playing. I was coming by to see you. I haven't heard from you in a week.”
I laugh out loud. “Okay, since you're coming clean, I should too. I do agree with Mystique. I'd love it if you'd be my date for the Grammys.”
“You paying?”
“Of course. Well, Reign Records is paying.”
“Cool. Then, I'm treating on your coffee. Venti, caramel macchiato, right?”
“Right.”
“Okay, be right back.”
DeShawn jogs away, but I don't move. All I have to do is wait a moment. Wait for it.... Okay, now he's stopped jogging. He turns around and jogs back.
“Can I borrow your car?” DeShawn asks while trying to catch his breath.
I dangle the keys in front of his face. “I wondered why you didn't ask.”
“I was so pumped about going to the Grammys that I kind of forgot.” He takes the keys from my hand. “I'll be back. Then we can hang.”
“I gotta study.”
“Okay, you study. I'll hang.” DeShawn winks at me and trots off toward my car.
My heart flutters just a little bit that DeShawn was coming to visit me for no reason at all. Dang! Why do I like him totally against my will?
My head knows that I'm fresh off a breakup with Sam, and that DeShawn will most probably end up discarded like the majority of rebound guys. But, the warmth in the pit of my stomach is very real. And the anticipation of us having a good time together without the crew at the Grammys makes me feel even warmer.
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