Читать книгу A Girl Like Me - Ni-Ni Simone - Страница 13

Track 6

It was official: I was the bomb and er’body in Arts High was checkin’ for me, especially since I rocked the Haneef concert the night before.

“Elite!” my portentous fans screamed. “I heard you killed it!” Everywhere I went, that’s all I heard: homeroom, honors english, trigonometry, economics, music, and on it went. “Elite this and Elite that!” My li’l taste of Hollywood—or should I say—hollyhood—had me zooted.

Which is why when the school day ended and Naja and I stood before my court dressed in too cute bebe gear (courtesy of the five finger discount), tellin’ an itty bitty white lie about meeting Haneef backstage and how he was checking for me, er’body and their mama’s mama believed it. All except, of course, the hater, Ciera.

We were standing at the bus stop waiting for the bus to come.

“Funny,” Ciera twisted her lips, while tapping her stiletto heels against the uneven concrete. “I didn’t see you backstage and I know this for a fact ’cause I was there.” She pointed to her choir of flunkies, who backed her up with a buncha “Uhmm hmmms.”

I glared at Ciera—I wanted to catch this chick in the throat. “You should really stop hatin’, ’fore we tell everybody how you went backstage, spun around, and became Superhead.”

Naja sucked in her inner checks and made a face like Nemo, causing Ciera’s neck swerve to kick into overdrive. “You tryna play me?!” Ciera screamed. “Let me tell you something—” and she threw her shoulders back in her get-it-poppin’ mode.

“Tell us what?!” Naja cut her off and instantly an argument ensued. The girls standing around egged us on. Yet strangely enough, their instigating turned into outright screaming, and them wildly jumping up and down. I couldn’t believe they were being so extra!

“What the hell is y’all’s problem?!” I asked. “And you, Samantha,” I said, and pointed to one of the girls from my homeroom class, “I’m real surprised that you frontin’—”

“Ha-ha-ha—” Samantha sputtered.

“And you laughin’ in my face!”

“Li’l Ma, what’s good? I missed you last night.” A smooth and familiar male voice floated over my shoulder from nowhere, but I was too amped to acknowledge it. Besides, he couldn’t have been talkin to me.

“And another thing—” I said as I felt a strong arm wrap around my waist, stopping me dead in my tracks.

I brushed the arm from my waist and immediately the diamond link bracelet that draped down the caramel colored male forearm caught my attention.

I stood frozen. I didn’t know who the hell this was. But I knew it wasn’t Jahaad. His broke ass couldn’t afford no real bling.

I turned around to see exactly who I needed to cuss out for putting their hands on me, but before the words could fall from my mouth, I started screaming and hugging my future baby daddy tightly. “Haneef!!!! Oh, my God…oh, my God.”

Oxygen. I needed oxygen. I fanned my face and then turned to Naja, who was holding her chest and puffing into a brown paper bag.

“Wassup, Li’l Ma?” Haneef said. “I missed you.”

I couldn’t believe this. I had to hug him again.

“You missed me?” Haneef asked.

“Yes.” I was in shock, so I’m not even sure if I said that out loud.

“Yeah?” he smiled…and oh, what a beautiful smile. “Li’l Ma—”

I put my hand up for him to stop. It was too much to digest at once. I thought I heard him say, “Li’l Ma.” That was the sexiest goddamn Li’l Ma I’d ever heard in my life! For once, it was really all good in the hood! I took a deep breath and said slowly, especially since I was on the verge of passing out, “Yes, Daddy?” I knew I sounded pathetic. But…whatever…

“I don’t mind you hugging me, baby.”

I swore he called me baby? I hugged him tighter and stomped my feet. Had…he…just…called me…baby?!

“But you a little too up in my chest wit’ it,” he continued. “And I can’t breathe.”

Oh, I guess I was holding him kind of close. I let him go but I didn’t move back, not one inch.

“Now, peep this,” l’il tender said. “I wanna hollah at you for a minute. Come take a ride with me.”

Just then, the air froze and time stood still. I realized I was dreaming. I looked back at Naja, who was still breathing into the paper bag. “I think I’m dreaming.”

“Me, too,” she said. “But I ain’t waking up.”

I turned back to Haneef and blinked. He couldn’t be real. Yeah, that was it, he wasn’t real. As a matter of fact, he had to be an imposter. I was betting this was somebody Jahaad tricked all his li’l minimum wage Burger King money on to fool me.

I squinted my eyes at who I had just decided was an imposter and said, “I should punch you in the damn face for fakin’ the funk!”

“What?” he stepped back.

“You ain’t Haneef,” I snapped.

“That’s Haneef,” Naja insisted.

“How do you know?!” I spat.

“I can look at his booty and tell.”

“Hmph…good point…” I paused, turned around and looked at the driver standing outside of the crisp and gleaming black Hummer, holding open the back door. Then I looked at the two men, standing outside of the Lincoln town car, parked in front of the Hummer. They were so buff, they were either bodyguards, or hit men…So, maybe…maybe…this was…nope, I was trippin’.

This was the hood; mofos don’t just appear around here, unless they’re filming a gangsta movie. So obviously, this was some bullshit. Somebody tryna be funny. I looked at whoever this was and wondered if I should let him pull this off, or cold-cock ’im in the face.

“You ai’ight, Li’l Ma?”

I wanted God to stop playing before I really started to think this was Haneef. I sized him up with my eyes: six feet—check. Tattoo of his name on the right side of his neck—check.

Jeeeeeeee’sussssssss! This was Haneef. Okay, okay…I had to calm down. I was gonna let the other birds go wild, but I had to get it together. After all, he was a nineteen-year-old boy. A boy?! There I was trippin’ again; this was a man. A grown ass man. One fine specimen of a man…

“What you got, a boyfriend or something, Li’l Ma?” Haneef asked.

Immediately that captured my attention. “What? Boy, don’t play with me.” Hell, at that moment, Jahaad didn’t count.

“Cool,” he pointed toward his Hummer. “So, can we chill?” he asked as the crowd grew and the screams escalated.

I turned around, smiled at Naja, who was fanning her face, and mouthed to Ciera, “Hater.” I turned to Haneef and said as cool and calm as melting ice, “Yeah, we can chill.”

I eased into the backseat, closed my eyes, and said a quick prayer. “Okay God, if this is a dream, don’t bother me with reality.”