Who's 'Bout to Bounce? (12 page)

“No. I’m not scared anymore. I’m just sad,” I reply. “Sad that I could let myself forget so quickly how happy I was that the Cheetah Girls wanted
me
in their group.”

“Okay, Dor-een-da. It’s up to you. We would like you to tour with us, but remember, there are hundreds of girls who would be very happy to be in your place.”

“I know, Ms. Dorka, and I’m sorry, but right now, I’m not one of those girls. I’m a Cheetah Girl.”

“Good-bye then—Cheetah Girl,” Ms. Dorka says, smiling. “God’s gift is a good name for you. You are very brave, and also very talented. And so young, too … only twelve years old.”

I gasp. How did she know? Of course—Mrs. Bosco must’ve told her.

“We would have gotten a tutor for you and everything,” Dorka says. “Of course, it will be less expensive to hire someone older than you—but you are very special. I’m sure you and your Cheetah Girls will be touring the world someday, just as you say.”

“Thanks, Ms. Dorka,” I say. “Bye, now. Bye, everyone.”

“Good-bye, Dorinda!” they all say, waving to me as I walk out the door, and close it behind me forever.

When I walk outside onto Lafayette Street, I practically run all the way to Chanel’s house, which is only a few blocks away. I am so mad at myself for missing rehearsal with my crew! I should have made up my mind yesterday, but I guess I really wanted to know if I got the job for the Mo’ Money Monique tour—
for real
, if you know what I’m sayin’.

“Well, looky, looky,” says Aqua, when I walk into the exercise studio in Chanel’s loft, where my crew have just finished rehearsing.

“We didn’t think you were coming,” Bubbles says, her eyes twinkling. Her hair looks nice. She’s put it up with one of those cheetah squingee hair things.

“I didn’t think I was, either, but I missed y’all too much—so I’m not going on that tour,” I blurt out. “I’d rather be ‘po’ up from the floor up,’ and a broke Cheetah Girl, than some backup dancer.”

All four of them jump up and down, and start yelling and screaming.

“Chanel, what’s going on in there?” Juanita yells from the kitchen.

“
Nada, Mamí!
” Chanel yells back. “We’re just happy!”

“We knew you’d be back,” Bubbles says, poking out her mouth at me. “Now, listen. We only got a week left before we perform at the Apollo Amateur Hour contest. But we’re gonna sing ‘Wanna-be Stars in the Jiggy Jungle,’ okay? I mean, we rocked the house at the Kats and Kittys Klub Halloween bash with that number, remember?”

“Yeah, that was a dope night,” I say. Then I realize something. “Hey, how come you didn’t write a song about
me
?”

Bubbles gives me that cheetah-licious look of hers, and says, “Who said I didn’t? I just didn’t finish it yet.”

“What’s it called?” I ask, excited.

“Guess.”

“Do’ Re Mi, Can’t You See?”

All four of them heckle me, and Aqua says, “We’d be po’ for she’ if you wuz writing the songs!”

Bubbles stops laughing long enough to say, “The song’s called, ‘Who’s ’Bout to Bounce, Baby?””

“Word. That’s dope.”

Juanita walks into the studio, huffing. She’s wearing her running sweats and shoes, and she’s got a towel around her neck. “Let’s hit the road, girls. Running your mouth isn’t the same thing as running,
está bien
?”

“What? You mean we’re running
again
?” Angie moans.

“That’s right,” Juanita says sharply. “Any complaints?”

“Dag on,” Angie says. “We sure do run a lot.”

“Yeah, well, I’m ready for Freddy today, baby,” Bubbles says, giving me a little squeeze of affection.

Without any further delay, we hightail it down to the East River and start running uptown. One week until show time, I tell myself as we go. That is really, really dope.

Bubbles is right. We are “ready for Freddy.” We’re gonna rock the Apollo, so what you know about that, huh?

I look around at my crew—Chanel up front as usual, the rest of us lagging behind—and I realize something. In spite of everything that’s gone down, they still don’t know the
whole
truth about me.

Telling them I’m really twelve years old right now might push my crew right over the edge. I mean, they put up with me lying to them about the Mo’ Money Monique tour, but I’d better not rock the boat again—at least not for a while.

While I’m at it, I decide I’m not going to tell my crew that I’m not legally adopted, either. If I do, then I’ll have to tell them what happened, and I don’t wanna embarrass my mom.

“My mom …” I like the way that sounds. Besides, I know they want me to be happy, so I wanna pretend that I’m adopted for a while longer. Who knows? Maybe by the time I decide to tell them, Mrs. Bosco will have adopted me for real.

Anyway, the deal is, I can be a good friend to my crew, and still keep one or two little secrets to myself, you know what I’m sayin’?

By the time we get to 23rd Street, I notice something very strange. I’ve been so busy thinking about stuff that I suddenly realize I’m running by myself. Even Angie, Aqua, and Bubbles are running faster than me!

I can’t believe that—
Bubbles
, running faster than
me
! She should eat sweet potato pie
every
day! Trying to catch up, I yell, “Hey, Bubbles, wait up!”

She pays me no mind, and yells back, without looking, “Yo, God’s gift to the world—
catch up if you can
!” That sends them all into Cheetah heckles.

Yeah, I’m back, all right. Back where I belong. I’m not a wanna-be—not when I’m with my crew. That’s what the world needs now and they’re gonna get some at the Apollo Theatre, on Saturday night!

At the end of her rope-a-dope:
To run out of moves. When you wanna give up.

Boo-boo:
A mistake. A cuddly dog like Toto.

Boomerang toes:
Feet that have corns, bunions, or critter-looking toenails.

Bouffant:
A puffed-up hairdo.

Bounce:
To leave. To jet. To go away and come back another day.

Cellulite:
Lumpy fat that looks like cottage cheese and makes grown-up ladies go to beauty parlors and throw duckets out the bucket trying to get rid of it.

Chitlin’ circuit:
Wack clubs that don’t pay singers well.

Diggable planet:
A cool place.

Dopiest dope:
The coolest of them all.

Easy-breezy tip:
When something doesn’t take a lot of effort. When you’re not sweatin’ it.

Knuckleheads:
Bozos who don’t have jobs and hang out all day doing nothing.

Large and in charge:
Successful.

Mad moves:
To dance really well.

My face is cracked:
I’m embarrassed.

Not having it:
When you don’t like something.

Penguin feet:
Dancer’s feet that are slightly pointed outward.

Pigeons:
Girls with fake eyeballs and tick-tacky weaves.

Rope-a-dope:
When you’re doing something
really
well—like double-Dutch jump rope, freestyle moves.

She’s on a jelly roll:
When someone is jammin’ with snaps, knowledge, or moves.

Something is jumping off:
When something is about to happen.

Stub-a-nubs:
Fingernails that have been chomp-a-roni’d to the max.

Whazzup:
A popular salutation for greeting members of your crew.

Word:
Right. I hear that. Is that right? I know that’s right.

I have to give it up to the Jump at the Sun peeps here—Andrea Pinkney, Lisa Holton, and Ken Geist—for letting the Cheetah Girls run wild. Also, Anath Garber, the one person who helped me find my Cheetah Girl powers. And, Lita Richardson, the one person who now has my back in the jiggy jungle. Primo thanks to the cover girl Cheetahs: Arike, Brandi, Imani, Jeni, and Mia. And to all the Cheetah Girls around the globe: Get diggity with the growl power, baby!

Deborah Gregory earned her growl power as a diva-about-town contributing writer for
Essence, Vibe
, and
More
magazines. She has showed her spots on several talk shows, including
Oprah, Ricki Lake,
and
Maury Povich
. She lives in New York City with her pooch, Cappuccino, who is featured as the Cheetah Girls’ mascot, Toto.