Diva Rules (18 page)

“H
ow was ya day?” It's Saturday night 'n' I'm up in my room with my door shut, lying across my bed doodling in my notebook with the stereo on low, listening to my boo Jhené Aiko playing in the background while talking on the phone with Cease.

“It was okay, I guess,” I say, writing out the words to “Bed Peace” as Jhené's voice floats through the speakers.

“Oh, a'ight. So, what you do last night after I dropped you home?”

“Boy, boom,” I say, sucking my teeth. “Don't be tryna check for me.”

He laughs. “Girl, quit. You know you want me checkin' you.”

I roll my eyes, scribbling his name on my paper. “Uhhh, not!”

“Yeah, a'ight. You been thinkin' about me?”

“Umm, who are you, again?” I tease, sliding a fingernail through my teeth, then clucking my tongue. “The number you have dialed has been disconnected. Try again.”

He cracks up laughing. “Yo, Fee. You somethin' else, girl.”

“I know I am. Now what you want?”

“You already know what I want.
You
.”

“Well, sorry, boo. But Fiona lives by a set of rules that she ain't about to let no boy come in 'n' disrupt. No ma'am, no sir.”

He chuckles. “Oh, word? And what lil rules is she livin' by?”

I slash a big X across his name. “Ha! Diva rules, boo. And rule number six is, never, ever, let a boy be ya life.”

“Well, I ain't tryna
be
ya life,” he counters, his voice dipping dangerously low. “I'm tryna be
in
ya life. Big difference, baby.”

I swallow. “Well, it also says to love 'em 'n' leave 'em. And that's what I do, boo. Fiona has no time for getting attached or being attached to no boy.”

“Nah, nah. I ain't diggin' that one. We gonna have'ta change that part. You not lovin' 'n' leavin' me, yo. It's me 'n' you, ya heard?”

I blink. “Okay, time's up. No ma'am, no sir. You not even about to do me. Let me get you the dial tone. We not even havin' this conversation.”

He laughs. “Yo, chill. Don't make me put somethin' in that pretty mouth of yours.”

“Ooh, you nasty dog! Don't get ya face slapped.”

He laughs. “See, there you go. I wasn't even talkin' about that. Get ya mind out the gutter.”

When “3:16 AM” starts playing, I roll over on my back 'n' close my eyes, pressing the phone to my ear. I smirk. “Yeah, right. Lies!”

“Nah, word is bond. I wouldn't come at you like that. I respect you. But I'm sayin', though . . .”

“Boy, you sayin'
what
?”

“You like
that
?”

I blink. “Do I like
what
?”

“Yo, c'mon. Don't front. You know.”

“Oh no, boo-boo. You got the wrong one. I receive it, not give it. Trust. The only thing goin' in Fiona's mouth is . . .”

“Fiona!”

I cringe.

My door swings open. “Why are there dishes all up in my sink, huh, girl? Why I gotta keep telling you the same damn thing over 'n' over, huh? You know I don't like seeing no goddamn dirty dishes up in my sink.”

I huff. “All right! I heard you! Get out!”

“Girl, who in the hell you raisin' your damn voice to, huh? Don't get cute.”

I try to cover the phone to keep Cease from hearing this. How dare she embarrass me! A part of me knows I should probably hang up on Cease before he hears more than he already has, but I ain't ready to get off the phone with him.

I hold my breath for a split second, then keep counting in my head. I am so frickin' done. I jerk up in bed. Then stare her down. “Ohhhkay! Dang. Can't you see I'm on the phone?”

She scowls, slamming her hands up on her wide hips. “Girl, I don't care about you bein' on no phone. I want those dishes done! I'm sick of saying the same thing over 'n' over.”

“Then stop saying it,” I snap, hopping up from the bed. “I
heard
you the
first
time. Now,
bye
! Please 'n' thank you!”

“I can't wait for ya lazy azz to get the hell up outta my house!”

“That makes two of us,” I snap back.

She stomps out 'n' I slam the door behind her.

She yells, “Don't be slamming no doors up in my house, either!”

“Omiiiiiiigod! I can't stand that lady,” I huff, putting the phone back up to my ear. “Hello?”

“Yo, I'ma let you go, a'ight? I don't want you gettin' in trouble.”

I suck my teeth. “Screw her. Fiona ain't checkin' for nothin' comin' outta that bag lady's mouth.”

“Damn. Sounds like you 'n' ya moms gets it in.”

I blow out an aggravated breath. “You have no idea.”

“You a'ight, though?”

I huff. “No, but I will be in a minute. She gets on my dang nerves.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

“No,” I say absentmindedly, walking over to the stereo 'n' changing the CD player to another track. “I'm used to her being messy 'n' tryna do me.” I tell him this, but it's not really true. Cruella's jacked my mood. I mean, it doesn't bother me like it used to. But still...

I walk over 'n' lock my door, then flick the light off, wrapping myself in darkness, like the dang mood I'm now in.
Why the heck is she even home, anyway?

“Yo, you can talk to me, Fee, a'ight? About anything. I got you, feel me?”

I plop back on my bed, hoping he can't hear the hurt in my voice. I close my eyes. “There's nothing to talk about.”

“You sure? I'm a good listener. I promise.”

I can't help but smile. “Thanks. But I'm good. Trust.”

“Oh, a'ight. Why don't y'all get along?”

“She hates me 'n'—”

“Nah, don't say that. That's ya moms.”

“No, trust. That lady can't stand me,” I confide, surprised at how I am
sooo
not interested in pretending right now. “She's hated me for as long as I can remember. Always mean 'n' nasty.” I've never, ever, shared this with anyone. Never even let anyone see this part of me. Yet here I am, unexpectedly letting this boy pry into pieces of my effed-up world.

“You don't deserve that,” he says softly.

I choke back my emotions. “Yeah, you're right. I don't. But oh, well. It is what it is. No love lost. Trust. So moving on.”

“A'ight. You got that. I can take a hint. So you miss me?”

I shake my head. “Oh no. Not this again. Next.”

He laughs. “Yo, Fee, stop playin, yo. You miss me or not?”

I suck my teeth. “Not.”

“See. You still frontin', yo.”

“Annnnyway. Moving on. Have you decided which school you wanna go to in the fall yet?”

“
Nah, not yet.” He tells me that outta the eleven schools he's applied to, he's received three acceptance letters in the mail over the weekend. I tell him congratulations. Like, wow, that's really great. “Thanks. So, what's good wit' you? You know what you wanna do once we graduate?”

I blink. Shoot. Heck if I know. I tell him I don't have it all planned out yet. I just know Fiona ain't tryna be stuck up in here with that crazy lady downstairs. No ma'am, no sir. As soon as I graduate I'm outta here. Trust. I'll throw myself over the George Washington Bridge before I suffer another year in this death trap with her.

“I don't know,” I finally admit.

“You need a life plan, Fee,” he says thoughtfully.

“Yeah, I know,” I say, suddenly feeling like I'm the big white elephant wearing a pink helmet, riding a tricycle with three flats. He wants to know what I'm passionate about.

“Ooh, that's an easy one. Cutie-boos, sexy heels, 'n' fly handbags.”
And lots of hot, sweaty sex
.

He laughs. “Yo, Fee, you crazy, yo; for real, for real. But nah, seriously.”

“I
am
serious,” I say, laughing with him. Ooh, I can't even lie. I'm really enjoying being on the phone with him.

“Well, a'ight on the heels 'n' them handbags. But them cutie-dudes gotta go.”

I shake my head. “Not cutie-dudes, silly. Cutie-
boos
.”

“Yeah, a'ight. Them, too.”

“Boy, bye. Fiona's always gotta have her a few cutie-boos on deck.”

“Yo, you cancel that. Ya man's comin' through 'n' shuttin' ish down. And yeah, you already told me all about ya lil silly diva rules.”

“They're not silly,” I say defensively.

“Yeah, okay. They are if you gonna let 'em keep you from opening up ya heart to someone.”

I swallow. “Oh no, oh no, we not—”

“Nah, yo. Let me finish,” he says, his tone dipping real low 'n' sexy.

I huff. “Fine. Say what you gotta say, then I'm hanging up.”

“No, you're not,” he says gently, but ohh so very firmly. “Stop tryna run from me, Fee. All it does is make me chase you harder. Is that what you want? Me to chase you?”

I suck my teeth. “Boy, bye. Ain't nobody asking you to chase me.”

“I didn't say anyone did. How 'bout you be quiet 'n' listen sometimes, damn.”

I blink. And I, uh, well, I um . . . crickets, okay? I shut up 'n' let him finish.

“All'a them lil diva rules you've made up are gonna have'ta change; word is bond, yo.”

I laugh. “Boy,
boom
! Come again.
Not
.”

“Aye, yo. Why everything always gotta be so difficult wit' you?”

I tell him I'm not being difficult, but I'm not gonna make it easy either. He tells me he wants to see me tomorrow, that his parents are outta town visiting his grandma in Arizona 'n' he wants me to come over.

“I wanna make dinner for you.”

My mouth drops open. I can't believe he wants to
cook
for
me
. I've never even had a boy boil water for me, let alone wanna toss up pots 'n' pans in a kitchen for me. “Why?” I ask skeptically.

“Because, yo,” he says softly, “I wanna show you how special you are.”

I blink, caught totally off guard. I open my mouth to say something, but before I can get the words out, my mother is back at my door, banging 'n' yelling for me to unlock the door 'n' go downstairs to do them raggedy dishes.

“ALL RIGHT!” I scream back. “Get up off my door! Dang! I'm coming!”

“NOW, Fiona!”

“Omiiiigod! This broad's really gonna stress me out over some damn dishes that I ain't even put in the sink in the first place. I can't with this lady. Let me get off this phone before I have to get dragged outta here in handcuffs.”

“Nah, yo, chill. Don't do nothin' crazy, a'ight?”

I tell him I'm not making any promises, then end the call, hopping off my bed, unlocking my door 'n' swinging it open, determined to give the crazy lady downstairs something to really scream about.

I'ma smash up every damn dish! That'll learn her!

“Y
o, I can't front. I don't wanna see the day end.”

I smile. “Me either.” And it's true. I really, really don't. Ooooh, I didn't think this whole
date
thing was going to be all that. But,
hunni
, trust. It turned out to be real cute. Romantic, even.

Oooh, he did that, boo. Yes, gawd,
hunni
. The food, the low sexy music, the candles, even his company, is
waaay
more than I imagined.

So here we are.

The two of us.

Alone.

Now what?

Do I hop up, slip back into my heels, snatch up my satchel 'n' bolt for the door? Do I make a mad dash for the bathroom 'n' lock myself inside? Or do I sit here 'n' melt all over myself?

What's this diva to do?

Oooh, Fiona doesn't do well with confusion. Trust. And right now she's baffled outta her mind. Feeling these silly butterflies fluttering around in my stomach, like this is the first time I've been alone with a fine jock-boy before. Psst. I've eaten boys like him alive. I've had plenty. I've slayed more boys 'n' broken more hearts than I can count.

Please. I'm a seductress.

I'm sexiness at its best.

So why is
this
, being here with him, feeling so different?

This isn't supposed to be happening. Not to me. Not with him.

Not with any boy.

All at once, I stare down at my fingernails. And realize that this is the first time that I've ever felt so, so . . . vulnerable. So naked.

Ohmigod! What is happening to me?

My heart is pounding.

I gotta get outta here. But before I can find the strength to stand on what I'm sure will be wobbly legs, he hops up from his seat 'n' says, “Hol' up. I almost forgot. I got something for you.”

I give him a confused look. He grins slyly.

“Oh, really? Is it long, thick, and hard?” I tease shamelessly. Oh, I know I'm such a flirtatious slore. Who said I was perfect? Don't answer that.

Annnyway . . .

He laughs. “You ain't ready for that. But, nah . . . somethin' else.”

“Whatever, boo. You don't know
what
I'm ready for.”

Lies! Truth is, I'm not ready for none of this that's happening right now. Maybe I could be if, if, I wasn't feeling so discombobulated. I need a lil get-right. Yeah, that's it. I need a sip of yak 'n' a fat blunt to help get my mind together.

“Yeah, a'ight. Hol' that thought.” I eye him as he walks out of the living room and heads down the hall to the back of the house. He returns a few minutes later holding just what my nerves need. A bottle of Moscato. Yes, gawd,
hunni
!

He pours us both a drink, then hands me a cup. I quickly take two big gulps.

He laughs. “Yo, easy, easy. We got all night.”

Oh no, oh no, oh . . . I ain't signing up for no all-nighter. Not tonight. I take another sip. This time slower. He takes a sip of his drink, then reaches over 'n' gently swipes a curl away from my eyes.

“You pretty as hell. You know that, right?”

I turn to him, eyebrows arched. “Uh-huh. How many other chicks you sayin' that to?”

“Only you.” I tilt my head. Give him a look. “Nah, real ish. You the real deal, yo. You already know that. You know I been tryna holla at you for a minute. But you stayed duckin' a bruh.”

I roll my eyes up in my head. “Yeah, right. Tell me anything, boo. You still ain't getting no cookie.”

He smiles. “Yo, who said I wanted some?”

I give him a look. “Oh, you don't?”

He laughs. “A'ight, a'ight. Maybe just a lil taste.”

I suck my teeth, playfully nudging him. “Lies!”

He keeps laughing. “I plead the Fifth. But I'm sayin' though. You mad sexy, Fiona.”

I swallow, shifting uncomfortably in my seat. Yeah. I hear that all the time. How pretty I am. How sexy I am. But not like the way he's saying it. No boy has ever said it 'n' looked at me the way he is. Like he means it. Like he's trying to dig down into my soul to see every piece of me. I don't know how to feel about that.

He makes me nervous 'n' excited at the same time.

I take him in, almost like I'm seeing him for the first time. And I'm suddenly distracted by the way his beautiful lips go slightly crooked when he smiles at me.

Why hadn't I noticed it before?

I blink, wrestling with the voices in my head.

Excuuuse you! Just because I've freaked a slew of boys, that doesn't mean I have to freak
him
.

“Yo, what you thinkin' about?”

I swallow. “Nothing, really.”

“Oh, word? Well, you wanna know what I'm thinkin' 'bout?”

“No. I mean . . .” I force myself to pause 'n' take a deep breath. “What are you thinking?”

He licks his lips. “I'm thinkin' 'bout how I wish I coulda had
you
for dessert. But that I'ma be a gentleman 'n' respect you . . .
this
time.”

Oh, great! Like I really needed to hear this when I'm already feeling hot. Now I'm scorching hot. And if I don't cool myself down quick there's going to be a situation. My hot pocket is already starting to sizzle.

I press my legs together.

He scoots closer to me. This time, our legs touch and he hits me with his lopsided smile again.

I feel a flutter.

I know I should get up. Should tell him bye-bye. Good day! Good night! So long! See ya! But I don't. And when he leans over 'n' starts kissing me, even though I am caught completely off guard, it doesn't take long before my tongue slips into his mouth 'n' we start going real hot 'n' heavy at it.

I throw my arms around his neck.

“I want you, yo,” he whispers all sexy-like, causing all kinds of freaky lil thoughts to pop into my head. His hands all over me, caressing 'n' stroking, making me feel like I am about to explode from the inside out.

This isn't how it's supposed to go down. This isn't in the script. But somehow this boy has managed to switch it up on me. I know I said he wasn't getting any of this honey, that I wasn't giving him an invite to heaven. But...

I can't hold out any longer.

He can't resist any longer.

We start clawing like two wild animals, tearing each other's clothes off. He looks into my eyes 'n' I look into his. Nothing more needs to be said. We both give in to the moment 'n' get lost in the pleasure.

All I can think now is
, Lights out! He's won again!