Diva Rules (20 page)

C
ease's cell rings five times. Stops. Then rings again. It's Saturday afternoon 'n' I'm chilling with him at his house. His parents are gone for the weekend. Again. And Cease wants me to stay the night with him. Something I've never done before. Stayed the night out at a boy's house. Oh no, boo. Fiona ain't entertaining at home; she usually does her dirt out, then takes it on back home 'n' climbs up on her own sheets to savor the memory in peace. Waking up to a boy is, um, well . . . that's taking things to a whole other level.

“Yo, babe,” he says, all wrapped up in some blood 'n' guts game he's playing on his PlayStation while I'm BSing on Facebook, “grab my phone 'n' tell me who's callin'.”

I stop scrolling through my news feed 'n' reach over for his phone. Maybe I shouldn't look, but I can't help myself. I frown at the screen. It's LuAnna.
This trick!

I kindly press IGNORE.

“Who was it?”

I shrug. “They hung up.”

“Oh, a'ight,” he says, his eyes focused on his game. “Prolly nobody I wanna talk to anyway.”

I roll my eyes.
Mmph
.

A few minutes later, his cell rings again. I glance at the screen again, then hit IGNORE.
Ooh, this messy bish is really tryin' it.

“Yeah, booyah! Take that!” he grunts, shooting the head off some dragon-type creature. I roll my eyes. Like, really? Mmph. “You wanna order something to eat?” he asks, his eyes glued to the fifty-inch Sony flat screen.

“I don't care.” He tells me he's good with whatever I wanna eat. “Let's get—” His cell rings again. I grit my teeth.

“Damn, who is that?”

I toss him his phone. “Ya thirsty ho.” It hits him on the thigh then bounces to the floor.

“
Who?
” He puts the game on pause, then snatches up his cell 'n' punches in his code. He checks the call log, sucking his teeth. “She ain't my ho. Why you say that?”

“Well, obviously she wants to be. Her stank azz keeps sweatin' you, like you her pimp or somethin'.”

“See. Here you go wit' the BS.”

“BS nothing.” I narrow my eyes at him. “I'm sick of that chick. Why is she always in ya face? Are you screwing her?”

He frowns. “Hell, nah. Why you ask me that?”

“Because she actin' like she all stuck on silly over you.”

He laughs.

“Ooh, don't do me. I don't see nothing funny, boy.”

He leans over 'n' tries to kiss me. But I mush him in his head.

“Nah. Chill, chill. It's not even like that,” he tries to explain. “Ain't nothin' poppin' between us. I mean that on everything.”

I tilt my head. Give him a
yeah, okay
look. “Well, then she must be putting in neck work 'cause she stays bobblin' her damn head all up in ya face.”

“Word to mother, I ain't effen wit' that broad like that. We just cool, that's it. I don't even be lookin' at no other chicks like that. I'm good, yo. You all I need, babe. I already told you that.”

I eyeball him, hard. “So you ain't ever beat that up? And don't even lie.”

“Nah, not really. I mean, yeah. I ain't gonna front. I was tryna smash, but she kept frontin'. She topped me off a few times over the Christmas break, though. But that's all it was. So you ain't even gotta stress about that, ya heard?”

I tsk. “Psst. Trust. Fiona ain't stressin' over no neck bobbler. If that's who you wanna be with, then bye. Do you, boo.”

He sucks his teeth. “The only
boo
I'm tryna do is
you
. Besides, her head game wasn't even all that.” He reaches over to give me a kiss 'n' I push him away. “Oh, word? That's how you doin' me?”

“So where were you last night?”

He blinks, giving me a stupid look. “Last night?”

“Did I stutter? Yeah,
last
.
Night
. Where were you? 'Cause I called you 'n' you ain't pick up ya phone, not once. And so what you called me back.”

And yeah, he told me when he called, four hours later, that he was over at Luke's 'n' didn't hear his phone. That
still
doesn't mean he wasn't with that trick.

Ooh, I can't believe Fiona is sitting here even questioning him about his whereabouts or about another chick. This is soo not the move. But oh well. Fiona ain't feelin' that ho calling 'n' texting him, either.

“And before you even try to lie. Don't.”

“Yo, I already told you where I was. I was chillin' with the fellas.” I ask him if there were any chicks over there. He shifts in his seat. “Yeah. A few.” I raise a brow, ask him if LuAnna was one of 'em. “Nah. Just some Spanish chicks from Bayonne that Luke be smashin' on the low; that's it.”

I narrow my eyes.

“C'mon, yo. Don't do that. I don't cheat. And I don't lie. Straight up. If you don't believe me, you can ask him ya'self.”

“Mmph. Then why is that ho
always
up in ya face?”

“C'mon, she's not always up in my face.”

I twist up my lips. “Mm-hmm. Well, she's up in it more than she needs to be. You do know she's tryna get with you, right?”

He shrugs. “That's not my problem. I already told her what it is.”

I tilt my head. “And what exactly is that?”

“That I'm not interested. I told her that you're the only girl I'm checkin' for.”

“Ohh, so she just don't give a damn, then. And you not even tryna check her. But it's all good, boo. Fiona can go right back to her boo-daddy rotation 'n' slide you into one of the three slots. Trust.”

He frowns. “Oh, hell naw. Don't play me, yo. I ain't even tryna hear that crazy ish you talkin', yo.”

“Mmph. Well, you better hear it.”

“Yeah, a'ight. Don't get nobody beat up, yo. I'm not tryna share you.”

I tilt my head, stare into him trying to catch any hint of him trying to play me. There is none. I breathe out a sigh of relief. But still...

“I'm not even gonna tell you who you can talk to, but I don't like
her
always up in ya face. It's disrespectful. But if you wanna play them kinda games, I can turn up. Trust.”

“Yeah, a'ight. Turn up hell. Don't play wit' me, yo.”

“Then stop havin' that girl all up in ya face.”

He reaches for me, pulling me into his arms. “A'ight, baby. You got that. I'ma let her know.”

I twist my lips, slapping his hands away. “Hm-mmm.”

“Nah, word is bond. It's all you. Now give me a kiss.”

“I ain't playin', boy. Don't do me. Handle that chick or I will. Trust.”

He smirks. “Aww, my baby jealous.” He tries to grab me 'n' I push him back.

“Come again. Fiona got green eyes, boo. But
trust
. It ain't from envy.”

He leans over into me, his lips practically on mine. “Yeah, my baby got them pretty green eyes. The kinda eyes that got me mesmerized. The kinda eyes that peer into my soul 'n' keep me hypnotized. You got me under ya spell . . .”

There's something familiar about his words. Like I've heard 'em before. No. Read 'em. And I have. I pull back. Blink. Put a hand up. “Wait. Wait. Wait a minute. Come again. Those words... ?” He offers me a sly smile 'n' starts reciting the poem. “Pretty Green Eyes.” “
You
're the one who's been leaving me those poems in my locker all this time?”

He grins that lopsided grin. “Yeah, a lil sumthin'-sumthin'. But you gotta keep that on the low. No one knows I like to write poems.”

“Ohmigod . . . that's so . . .”

He raises a brow. “What, corny?”

I shake my head, feeling tears rim my eyes. “No, no . . . that's so sweet. No boy has ever written me poems before. It's beautiful. Ohmigod! Why didn't you tell me?”

He shrugs. “I wanted to keep you guessing. You're the first girl I've ever written any for.” He tells me this 'n' as bad as I wanna believe what he says, something inside me won't let me. He must see the look of doubt on my face. “Nah, word is bond, yo. I been wit' mad girls, but I've never felt like any of 'em were worth writing poems to. Until you . . .”

And in hearing his words something inside of me kinda shakes loose 'n' outta nowhere the tears start rolling outta my eyes, but for once I ain't tryna check for 'em, so I just let 'em roll out freely. I open my mouth to speak, but Cease puts a finger to my lips. “Shh. I don't wanna talk anymore. I wanna feel them sexy lips.”

I smile at him.

This time when he tries to kiss me, I let him. He gives me two quick kisses before his tongue slips into my waiting mouth, going in for the kill. Yesss, gawd,
hunni
! I love the way this boy kisses. He cups my face in his hands, allowing the warmth of his kisses to heat through my body. He leans back 'n' pulls me on top of him, his hands wandering all over my body.

Ooh, this boy's got Fiona feeling some kinda way. And I can't help wondering, am I dreaming? Is this all too good to be true? Or am I simply going cuckoo-crazy?

N
ow I know I said never, ever fight over a boy. Never! But,
hunni
. . . there's always an exception to every gotdang rule. And this right here is it. Now when I initially stepped to this chick in the hallway right after third period to ask her why she stays texting Cease 'n' being all up in his face, I came at her all sugary 'n' sweet. Yes ma'am, yes sir. I sure did. I asked this tramp real nice to ease up off the texting. Fall back a pinch. But the trick wanna turn up 'n' turn out, 'n' Fiona ain't the one for a whole buncha yip-yap. Oh no, hun. Especially when I'm comin' at you all cute 'n' classy 'n' ladylike.

“Why you care who I'm texting? Is he
your
man?”

I tilt my head. “Is he
yours
, sweetie?”

“Don't worry about if he's mine or not. Are you jealous?”

I laugh. “Come again. Girl, bye. There's nothing to be jealous of. Trust.”

“Then why are you over here all up in my face? What, you scared I'ma snatch him from you? I text 'n' call who I wanna. Take that ish up with Cease, boo.”

“
Bloop!
Come again, hun. Take the
stank
down a notch. You can't take
nothing
from me. Trust. Jizz licker. You are no competition for me. Trust.”

She grits her teeth. “Fiona, get up outta my face 'n' keep it moving. Before I turn up on you.”

I laugh sarcastically. “Ooh, turn up, boo.” I clap my hands with each word. “Turn. Up. Yes, boo. Turn. Up. Do me, boo. You're clown-shit crazy, a real riot, if you think I don't wanna see you go with the hands. Give me life, boo! Do me! Oooh, I want it. Trust.” I tie the strings to my hat tight around my neck, then loop them into a knot. “You real thirsty, ole nasty ball licker.”

“
Bish,
please!” she shouts, placing a hand up on her hip. Her neck starts rolling. “You're the thirsty one, coming at me all crazy. Screw you, ho! All you are is a slut! You done effed half the school and now you wanna put claims on somebody who would apparently rather be with
me
. Tramp,
please
! Take a seat!”

I keep laughing. “Trick, pull the hair outta ya teeth.
You
the one tryna get him to lick all up in ya gumdrop. He showed me the text.
You
the one tryna get all up in his lap, begging for another round, talking 'bout how good ya brain game is. So
you
go have a seat. Matter of fact, go have several. I'm not the one beggin' some boy to screw me. You are. Silly-bird.”

Next thing I know, she lets her lil cheering squad put a battery pack up on her back 'n' now she thinks she got juice. She pushes me. Come again? Oooh, no, hun. The last thing you
ever
do is put ya hands on Fiona. Trust. In a flash, my right hand clenches, and my fist goes upside her head.

Two punches to her face.

She screams.

Her arms swing like a windmill, her hands trying to pull off my hat so she can wrap fingers into my hair. But the dumbo musta thought I was silly enough to step to a chick I know I'ma beat down, with my hair not properly tucked. A diva is always prepared, no matter the occasion. Okay? She shoulda known something was up when I stepped to her in sneakers. Everyone knows Fiona stays with a heel on, okay? So that shoulda been her cue right then to keep it cute 'n' not be all slick at the mouth.

But nooooo.

I hear the voices around me. Yelling. Coaxing. Cheering. Egging it on.

“Fight! Fight! Fight!”

“Oh sheee
iiiiiit
! It's goin' down! Fiona beatin' da brakes off dat azz!”

“Tear her up, LuAnna!”

She swings wildly. But I duck just in time, feeling the swoosh of air as it passes over my head. I lean in close 'n' hit her hard. She stumbles back, and I charge her, grabbing her by the head 'n' kneeing her in the stomach. I am out for blood. This chick tried it. And ooh, that's a no-no!

We tussle hard, slapping, punching, scratching.

“Ugh!” she grunts, caving in to the pain of being hit in her ribs again.

This is no longer about Cease. It's about respect. It's about this ho crossing the line 'n' putting her hands on me. And it's about me reminding her 'n' every other chick that Fiona Madison ain't the one to eff with.

She stumbles backward, falling flat on her back.

“Oh, you a dead
bish
now!” I yell, standing over her and grabbing a fistful of her hair, drawing back my fist 'n' pounding into her face. I punch her over and over until I feel someone pulling me, kicking 'n' screaming, off her.

She had better count her blessings I didn't slash her face!

Next time I will.

 

“
Suspended?
Ten days? I gotta leave my job for this
bullshit
?! Girl, have you lost what's left of your everlasting mind?!” my mother snarls as she slams her door, then starts the engine 'n' peels off. I'm so pissed that the assistant principal called her. I told that old hag to call Leona. Even though she wouldn't have been too happy about me getting suspended so close to the end of the school year, either. But having her beating me in the head with a lecture woulda been a hella lot better than this. Cooped up in a car, with this motormouth rattling on 'n' on 'n' on about nothing I wanna hear.

“All I ask is that you stay outta my damn hair! Don't stress me out! Don't inconvenience me! Graduate high school! And get the hell outta my house! That's it! But you know what? I'm done with ya lil grown behind! It's your life. Do whatever you want.”

“You're right!” I snap. “It is
my
life! I've been doing whatever I've wanted for over five years. So what's so different now, huh? What, because you've had to be inconvenienced
one
day outta ya life 'n' come down here to get me? The lil screwup? Please. Don't act like you're doin'
me
some favor. I didn't ask you to leave ya precious job! Get it right!”

“Fiona, don't try me!” She grips the steering wheel and looks straight ahead. “I'm ten seconds from pulling this car over 'n' wearin' ya smart-azz out.”

She speeds up, then hits the brakes all hard 'n' crazy, tryna keep from running a red light. Like her frantic driving is by some chance my fault. Lady, please. Take a seat! She rolls her window down. Then shoots me a nasty glare, shaking her head. She clenches her jaw. “How do you go from an honor student in your senior year to suspended for
ten
damn days, huh?”

I grit my teeth. Bite down on my tongue.

“Girl, you had better open your goddamn mouth before I reach over there 'n' knock you upside your head. Now I need for you to explain to me how the hell you got suspended.”

“I
don't
wanna talk about it.”
Especially not with you!

She bangs her hand on the steering wheel, pulling off as the light changes. “You had better talk about it. NOW!”

I huff. “
They
already
told
you. I fought this trick.”

She swerves over, slamming on the brakes. “You had better watch your tone with me.”

I suck my teeth.

“And suck your teeth one more damn time 'n' see what I do.”

“You broke that girl's nose. Now I'ma be the one
stuck
payin' her damn hospital bills. I shoulda left you there 'n' had them lock you up!”

I shrug, taking a deep breath. Then cut my eye over at her. “Yeah, maybe you shoulda 'n' maybe she shoulda kept her hands to herself. But she didn't 'n' I tried to snap her neck. End of story.”

She grunts, finally speeding off. “I'm so sick of you.”

I press my forehead against the side window 'n' bite down on my lip.

She can be pissed all she wants. I don't give a damn. Fiona beat that ho down for a cause. And she stands her ground. So if I gotta do ten days as just reward, then so be it. It's worth every day of it. As far as I'm concerned, not going to school tomorrow or the day after that, or the day after that, is a blessing in disguise. I won't have to see her big face 'n' I definitely won't have see Cease all up in mine.

I fish through my bag, pulling out my buzzing cell. I roll my eyes. It's him. I hit IGNORE, then toss it back into my bag. I'm not tryna hear nothing he has to say.

Oh no. I've let him do enough damage. Disrupting my life. Getting all up inside my head 'n' having me break all kinda codes. Dissin' all'a my BWBs just to chill with one boy. Breaking up nails 'n' going upside some trick's head over some dumbness. Who does that? Oh no, hun. Trust. Fiona ain't signing up for that. She ain't 'bout that life. No ma'am, no sir.

I blink, fighting back a buncha tears. My heart doesn't know the right response to that. But in my mind the answer is painfully clear. Trust.

I'm done.

He's gotta go!