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Authors: Nikki Carter

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BOOK: It's All Good
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5
I
t's Wednesday night and I'm sitting in the church social hall waiting for our very first purity class to start. Yay! (Do you detect a hint of sarcasm? HA! That would be
more
than a hint, thank you very much.)
I look around the room to see who decided to join us. Of course, Candy and Hope are here. They, like me, didn't have a choice. Valerie's here, too, looking like a pariah because nobody's sitting next to her. No, not
Mariah
. Pariah.
Also in the room is fellow junior, Sascha Cohen. She's one of Hope's rally girl friends, which means that maybe Hope decided to open up her mouth about the program. Sascha's really pretty. Her mom is this tiny Filipino lady and her dad is Black. Sascha took the best traits from both her parents, it seems. She's tall and brown like her dad, but has almond eyes and long wavy hair like her mother. She's cool, so I'm really glad she came.
There are some other girls from our church, too, probably being forced to attend by their mothers.
“Sascha, come sit over here with us!” Hope says.
Sascha smiles and joins us. Candy appraises her outfit with a bit of envy in her eyes. I don't know if she's gonna make it through her punishment. Her lack of fly apparel seems to be killing her.
“That skirt is cute,” Candy remarks.
“Thanks,” Sascha replies. “And thank y'all for asking me to sit over here. I thought Valerie was gonna come and sit next to me.”
Hope jumps up and hugs Sascha. “I would never leave a rally girl hanging! You know this.”
Gag on top of gag. I'm so sick of Hi-Steppers this and rally girls that. Are you kidding me? I really despise cliques, and yet I seem to reside amongst them. Go figure.
Aunt Elena and Gwen emerge from somewhere in the back of the church sanctuary. They must think they are too cute with their little yoga outfits on. I guess they're supposed to be on our level, so they didn't wear their usual church outfits. My mother usually wears a hat wide enough to poke somebody's eye out every time she sets foot inside the church. And Aunt Elena stays rocking some kind of Banana Republic suit.
“Hello girls!” Aunt Elena says. “We are so happy that you joined us for PGP!”
PGP? Oh, no. They done went and made up an acronym. I'm afraid to know what the letters stand for, and from the way Hope is covering her face with both hands, she's afraid, too.
Gwen exclaims, “I bet you're all wondering what PGP stands for!”
“It stands for Powerful Girls are Pure!” Aunt Elena says, and then she gives Gwen a high five.
Kill me. Kill me now.
“We are about to embark on a wonderful journey!” Gwen exclaims.
Aunt Elena nods. “Absolutely. You young ladies are about to experience the passage into womanhood.”
Oh wow! Talk about laying it on thick. The Gwen and Aunt Elena tag team is in full effect. The fact that they've put their differences aside to mold the minds of young women is inspiring.
Um ... yeah.
I'm just waiting for Aunt Elena to say something out of pocket to or about Atilla the Gwen. That's when things will get interesting.
Gwen opens a huge shopping bag and says, “First Lady Elena and I have a gift for each one of you!”
No, Auntie Elena is not the president's wife, silly! In our church, we call the pastor's wife First Lady. Now pay attention before you miss something.
Gwen reaches into her bag and pulls out a handful of plastic tiaras.
“While we're in class, each of you will wear one of these tiaras, because you are daughters of King Jesus,” Aunt Elena explains.
Gwen adds, “And that makes you princesses!”
Why are Aunt Elena and Gwen clapping and giving themselves a round of applause? They are just too proud of themselves.
“During our sessions, you will address each other by your royal names,” Aunt Elena says. “Princess Hope, come and receive your tiara.”
When we're all looking beyond foolish with plastic, dollar-store tiaras on our heads, Gwen and Aunt Elena seem pleased. At least
someone
is happy about this ridiculousness.
Womp, womp on us.
“Over the course of our time together, we're going to talk about why your minds, hearts, and bodies are precious to God,” Aunt Elena explains.
Gwen says, “You will maintain exceptional conduct and grades while in the PGP program. And at the end of March you will graduate from the program and be presented at the PGP cotillion.”
Aunt Elena asks, “Are there any questions?”
Sascha raises her hand.
“Yes, Princess Sascha?” Aunt Elena says with a big smile.
Sascha asks, “Is a cotillion a dance? Like a prom? And do we get to bring a date?”
Gwen replies, “It's something like a dance, but your parents will be there and you'll be presented as the debutantes that you are. It's going to be in early spring, because that's when the flowers start to bloom, and you will be blooming into young women.”
Gag on top of gag.
Sascha scrunches her nose. “Our parents are going to be there? With our dates?”
“They won't actually be dates. They'll be escorts, and only part of the ceremony.”
Sascha still doesn't look convinced. “Okay. I guess I get it.”
Gwen is giving Sascha the shut-your-mouth-that's-enough-questions stare down. Candy raises her hand and lets her off the hook.
“Yes, Princess Candy?”
Candy clears her throat and swallows. “How will you know if everyone has good conduct?”
Gwen narrows her eyes at Candy. Have I taught this child nothing? Unnecessary questions always activate Gwen's mess radar!
Fortunately for Candy, Aunt Elena tackles her question. “Well, you ladies are on an honor system, as far as we're concerned. We expect you to understand that this is more about a relationship with God than a dance at the end of March. That being said, if something is brought to our attention, Sister Gwen and I may be forced to take action and you could possibly be removed from the program.”
Wow. It looks like Aunt Elena and my mom are definitely not playing. Just about every girl in the room looks a tad bit uncomfortable. Valerie more than anyone else—hmmm ... I wonder why?
I still haven't figured out why she's even here, because I sure don't believe it's all about wanting to be pure.
 
“That was so embarrassing,” Hope says to me as soon as we're dismissed.
“Tell me about it. How and when did Gwen and Aunt Elena get so out of control?”
Candy responds, “It's not that bad. I mean, at least we get to have a cotillion out of the deal.”
Right. A cotillion. Yet another dance where I have to find a date. They can call it an “escort” all they want, but for real—it's a date. It seems like my life goes from one dance to the next, all opportunities for me to look like the lame, dateless chick.
Maybe I'll just surrender and let Kevin be my boyfriend. He's dressing better, has contacts, and his driver's license. Plus his acne is like half gone. Yeah, that still leaves an awful lot of pimples, but you know what I mean.
Hope snatches me out of my daydream ... er ... nightmare.
“Gia, why is Valerie here, anyway?”
“Heck if I know! Big mouth Candy brought it up in Hi-Steppers practice and she invited herself.”
Hope frowns. “I think she's just here to cause trouble. She left a nastygram on Susan Chiang's Facebook page the other day.”
“What do you mean, nastygram?”
“She just posted a note to her wall that said, ‘Bow to the real queen of Longfellow High. It's not over.'”
I burst into spontaneous laughter.
It's not over!
Are you kidding me?
“That doesn't even sound like Valerie,” I say after I'm done laughing. “She's much more cerebral than that. The whole Facebook stalking seems so juvenile.”
Candy says, “I saw it, too. It was right there in my updates, next to a picture of Susan wearing her Homecoming crown.”
“It was there,” Sascha concurs. “We all told Susan that Valerie is just jealous and that she shouldn't worry about it.”
Hmm ... I don't know if that was good advice. If that was truly Valerie posting a note on Susan's page, she probably
should
worry. But I still can't see Valerie sitting at home on her computer thinking up halfway mean things to say online. She's the type to get right up in your face and get you told.
Valerie waves at me and Candy from across the sanctuary as she walks out the back exit. How do I know she wasn't waving at Hope and Sascha too? That's easy.
They're rally girls.
6
I
t's Friday, and I am too pumped because I'm sitting in my last-period English class with Kevin and Ricky and it's almost over! That means that in less than thirty minutes we're going to be on the school bus and headed to Columbus, Ohio, for the state high school football championship. The Spartans are playing the Finley Sabers, and it should be a beast of a matchup. (You like that little play on words, don't you? Sabers ... beast? Okay, whatever, hater. It was a good pun.)
Ms. Beckman, our fierce English teacher, is letting us chill until the bell, because she knows that we are way too excited to hear anything she's trying to tell us about poetry structure. That's going to have to wait until next week when the Spartans are the state champs!
Do I sound extra pumped? Hahahaha.
“Are you still gonna sit next to me on the bus?” Kevin asks.
He is most definitely rocking his new outfit and a fresh haircut, so I guess I'll keep my word. “Sure, Kev. Too bad Ricky's gonna be on the other bus. He's gonna be so bored without us.”
Ricky chuckles. “I'm sure I'll manage.”
Can I tell you that he really, really is starting to get on my nerves? I'm trying to keep a positive outlook on this whole Gia/Ricky thing, but it seems like Ricky is dead set on there being no
us.
“So, Ricky, when are the 'rents coming down?” I ask.
“They're driving down Saturday afternoon. My dad has to work in the morning. Is your mom coming?”
I shrug. “I would rather she didn't.”
“Why not?” Ricky asks. “It's not like you've got any wildin' out planned. Or do you?”
“Anyway!” I say, totally dismissing Ricky. “Kev, did your grandmother pack any snacks for us?”
Kevin's face lights up, like he's really excited that I'm looking forward to riding next to him on the bus. Why you playing, though, Mother Witherspoon makes some slamming goodie bags. As long as she doesn't make those ...
“Yes! She made us fried chicken sandwiches.”
Fried chicken sandwiches.
Ricky cracks up. “Kev, you've been walking around all day with fried chicken in your backpack? It's probably spoiled by now. You and Gia are gonna end up with salmonella poisoning.”
“For your info, Mr. Quarterback, I put them in the refrigerator in the teachers' lounge this morning. I'm going to warm them up right before we get on the bus.”
Still giggling, Ricky replies, “Good, then. It sounds yummy. I'll take Mickey D's.”
I am completely unwilling to join in Ricky's laughter. “Whatever, hater. Kevin, those sandwiches are probably going to be good. Thanks for thinking of me!”
“Anytime, Gia,” Kevin replies. “I'm just glad my grandmother is letting me go. Do you know she asked Pastor Stokes if he thought there was going to be any tomfoolery on the trip?”
I see that blank expression on your face. Yeah, I don't know what tomfoolery means either. You'll have to ask Mother Witherspoon. Knowing her, she's praying against any and all tomfoolery and whatever else Kevin might get into.
Obviously, she doesn't know she's got a lame for a grandson. Kevin wouldn't know tom or foolery if they sat in his lap and patted him on the head!
Ricky slaps Kevin on the back. “It's cool, though, Kev. You're going now, and we're gonna have fun this weekend.”
Kevin nods. “This is going to be my last weekend of fun for a while.”
“Why is that?” I ask.
“Gia! Did you forget our SAT prep class? I signed you up, and I'm going to be driving you every Saturday. My grandmother already talked to your mom.”
“All right! Spelman, here I come.”
Ricky frowns and asks, “Why didn't y'all sign me up?”
“I didn't think you'd want to go,” Kevin replies. “That's me and Gia's thing. We've been studying for the SATs since the eighth grade.”
Kevin is telling the absolute truth. He and I have been learning SAT vocabulary words for the longest. We even picked our class schedules based on what would help us most on the test.
Ricky nods slowly and starts to scribble in his notebook, with the frown still in place. Is someone feeling left out? Better yet, is this jealousy I detect?
The bell rings and we rush out of the classroom, not waiting for Ms. Beckman to give us an official dismissal.
Kevin turns in the direction of the teachers' lounge and says, “I'll see you on the bus, Gia.”
“Okay.”
Ricky is still standing in front of me, giving me evil side eye.
“Dude, what is it?”
“G, I can't believe you didn't sign me up for the SAT prep. You know I never think to do stuff like that. I'm going to college too!”
Am I his mama or something? Dang! Why do I have to remember to do stuff for him? I'm
obviously
not his girlfriend, so someone please explain. What part of the game is this?
“Seriously, Ricky, there will be another SAT prep. Just get in the next class. Not a big deal.”
“It's not a big deal that my two best friends are gonna be totally missing in action for the next eight Saturdays?”
Okay, so I didn't think about it that way. Ricky, Kevin, and I do usually hang at the rec center or the mall on Saturdays. We even let Hope come along sometimes. The SAT is breaking up our trio.
“You said you wouldn't act weird, Gia. I should've known that you'd act like Hope when I gave you that bracelet.”
I don't know what's more insulting. The part where he said I was weird or the part where he said I was acting like Hope. He's tripping on both counts.
“For the last time, I'm not acting weird. It was an oversight, Ricky, not a conspiracy. For real.”
Finally, he looks like he believes me. “It's cool, Gia.”
I give Ricky what I believe is a much-needed hug. “I'm sorry about Saturdays, Ricky. We'll hang after the class lets out.”
“Maybe I'll just hook up with Valerie on Saturdays.”
Yeah. Not funny. Not even a little bit.
“Boy, you better quit acting stupid and get focused! You have a game to play tomorrow.”
“All right, Gia. I'll see you at the hotel if I get on the bus before you. Enjoy your fried chicken sandwich.”
“Ha ha. You are just full of funny today, aren't you?”
I dash to my locker to grab my overnight bag. Thank goodness, I said all of my good-byes to my mom and LeRon this morning. I so don't want to be the girl whose mom is waving at the bus as we pull off.
Hope and Candy are waiting for me at my locker. Candy looks extra heated, probably because she's not going to the game. I wonder if her punishment is really going to last until spring break. I mean, okay, yes, shoplifting is a horrible crime, but have the parental units ever heard of parole or time off for good behavior?
I'm just saying.
“I wish we got to ride the bus,” Hope complains as I open my locker.
Technically, the rally girls are not a school-sponsored activity. They get to perform at the pep rally and sometimes get to decorate for school dances, but when it comes down to school budget money, the rally girls get nada, not even a ride to the state championship on the hoopty school bus.
“Who's driving you guys?” I ask.
“Sascha's older sister, Abigail. She's bringing Sascha's boyfriend too, and she's even getting a hotel room for us. It could've been you driving us if you'd get your license!”
I roll my eyes. “Hope, okay, you need to stop. You are old enough to be driving, too.”
“But you know my dad won't let me drive anywhere. Auntie Gwen would sooo let you use her car sometimes.”
Clearly Hope does not know her auntie. “Anyway, you said Sascha's boyfriend is coming. Who is she kicking it with?”
“This senior named Chase. You know him?”
I give Hope the are-you-kidding-me look. Of course I know Chase. He's one of the hottest white boys at Longfellow High. He looks just like that dude from
Pirates of the Caribbean.
No, not Captain Jack Sparrow! Johnny Depp is like old enough to be my grandfather. E www. Wait. Double e www!
Chase looks like Orlando Bloom. He's got that dark brown hair, intense brown eyes, and that grungy boy swag. Yeah, hotness to infinity.
Candy interjects, “He is fine! She's so lucky.”
Hope shrugs. “He's all right. Not really my type though.”
“Well, I'd rather ride with Sascha's sister than share a seat with Kevin, eating greasy chicken sandwiches all the way there.”
Candy says, “Both of y'all can bite my hotcakes because at least you're going to the game! I'm gonna be sitting at home in lameville.”
Bite her hotcakes? Umm ... what?
“I'm gonna need you not to come up with slang nobody uses but you,” I command.
Candy looks confused for a sec. “Oh, you mean hotcakes? That's something me and Valerie came up with on Facebook. It's code for when guys are checking out the goods.”
“You and Valerie are just becoming BFFs, aren't you? What's that about?”
Candy shrugs. “I don't know why everyone acts like she's so scary. Valerie is cool most of the time.”
Hope laughs out loud. “I can't wait for you to see her true colors.”
“People can change, y'all. Maybe she's just sick of being mean,” Candy says.
“Whateva! Tell my mom I'm gonna call her when we get to Columbus.”
“All right,” Candy says. “Have fun for me.”
Candy trudges down the hall to the big double doors that open up to the street. She stops right outside the door to talk to some of her freshman peeps. I thought she had dropped most of her friends when she got put on her prison punishments, especially since they were the ones she got caught shoplifting with. But it looks like they're still cool.
Hope asks, “So have you and Ricky worked things out? Is he still tripping, or are y'all booed up yet?”
“Yes, he's absolutely still tripping, but I think we have an understanding, sort of.”
“What's he tripping on now?”
“He was hating for a minute about me and Kev's SAT class, like we left him out on purpose.”
Hope cracks up. “Are you kidding me? What a stupid thing to be hating about. But wait, did you and Kevin do it on purpose? Do y'all want some alone time?”
I punch Hope in the arm, and she flinches. “I just think Ricky is a little loco right now, that's all.”
“Maybe he's girl loco!” Hope's eyes light up. “Or maybe he's just crazy about you, Gia.”
I put one hand in the air. “No. Let's not go there this weekend, Hope. I'm calling a moratorium on crushes until after the game.”
“Don't you go using your SAT words on me, Gia! You
know
I don't know what that means.”
Ha! Of course I know. That is what makes it so much fun.
“It just means no Gia-slash-Ricky or Ricky-slash-Gia. This is all about football and the hotness that is my step at halftime.”
Hope bites her lip and drops her head. I know she misses the Hi-Steppers, even if she is having fun being a rally girl.
“You know you should really rejoin the squad next year. It would be hot if we both stepped senior year.”
“I don't know. Maybe. See you in Columbus!”
I watch Hope jog over to Sascha and the rest of the rally girls. I was one hundred percent serious about wanting Hope back on the Hi-Steppers squad. It's just not the same without her.
And you betta not tell her I said that!
BOOK: It's All Good
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