Cool Like That (16 page)

From
It Is What It Is

A
re bridesmaid dresses supposed to itch?

I’m asking because my mom, Gwen, has me standing in front of the church wearing a ridiculous amount of pink taffeta and some other material that’s making me itch. I close one eye and try to concentrate on making the itch disappear, because it’s in the center of my back, right where I can’t reach it.

The concentration isn’t working, so I shift my shoulders in little circles trying to reach the itch with the zipper on my dress.

“Gia, will you
stop
it?” hisses my cousin, Hope. “Auntie Gwen is gonna get you when she sees you squirming on her wedding video.”

She’s right. Gwen will be heated. But it’s her own fault. She shouldn’t have picked outfits that make us look like Destiny’s Child backup dancers. All of this shining and glistening is a bit extra if you ask me. The only good thing about this dress is that it amps up my miniature curves. Yes, I have officially gone from skinny to slim. You don’t know the difference? Well, boo to you. The distance from skinny to slim is about the same as the distance from thick to plump. Marinate on it.

Even though I’m sixteen and on my way into the eleventh grade, this is Gwen’s first wedding. She met a guy at our church named Elder LeRon Ferguson and they really hit it off. Even the pastor (who is also my uncle) was happy about them getting together. On the real, I think the only two people
not
happy about this whole blessed affair are me and Elder LeRon’s daughter, Candy.

Don’t get it twisted, I want my mother to be happy, get a man and all that, but I just thought it would all take place after I was grown. I am so not in the mood for a new daddy and a bratty little sister who will probably make my life miserable.

But if Gwen is going to be upset ’cause I’m trying to scratch my itch, then she’s gonna be extra heated when she sees Candy on video. She practically stomped down the aisle and didn’t even hold her flower bouquet up in front of her. She let her arms drop to her sides and mean-mugged the video guy all the way to the front of the church.

This itch is really starting to drive me nuts. This whole wedding ceremony thing is taking forever, too! Gwen had to go all out and have three flower girls and a miniature bride. I mean, for real, is all that even necessary?

As the third flower girl marches up the aisle throwing flowers everywhere but on the floor in front of her, Hope leans forward and whispers, “There’s Ricky.”

We both smile at
my
best friend Ricardo. Umm…yeah…survey says no. Hope needs to pause all of that action immediately. She’s been lightweight digging Ricky ever since Homecoming of last year. And that’s only because he got upgraded to “hot” status by Longfellow High’s resident vixen, Valerie. She’s the captain of the Hi-Steppers dance squad and not exactly my favorite person.

Ricky smiles back at us and waves. Even though I’m standing in the front of the church, I can tell he’s looking real fresh and real clean. My mom would say he looks dapper in his church suit and tie. But I ain’t Gwen, and
dapper
is a word for those old movies.

I know what you’re thinking, and the answer is no! Ricky is just my friend, not my
boyfriend.
Gwen is dead set against me dating until I’m in college. This is not an exaggeration either. I totally wish I was exaggerating.

Finally, Gwen starts marching up the center aisle of the church. It’s about time! When the entire congregation turns to watch her, I take my bouquet and try to scratch my back with the little plastic holder thingy.

My mom looks real pretty, kinda like me but older. She’s grinning from ear to ear as everyone takes pictures of her. Since her only close male family member is her brother—my uncle, Pastor Stokes—she decided to walk down the aisle alone.

When I asked if Pastor was going to give her away, these were her exact words: “I’m a grown woman, and I belong to God. I’m giving myself away.”

Oh the bluntness.

I am glad when Gwen makes her way up the three little steps to stand in front of Pastor and next to Elder LeRon. She looks real fly in her off-the-shoulder bridal gown that Hope and I helped her pick out. Aunt Elena helped too, but she’s my uncle’s wife and Gwen isn’t really feeling her all like that.

Pastor Stokes starts up with his standard wedding sermon. He’s talking about love, forgiveness, and all kinds of stuff I don’t need to worry about right now. My new stepsister, Candy, sighs loudly like she’s bored out of her mind. But Gwen gives her some serious I-will-cut-you-if-you-mess-up-my-wedding-day side eye and she pulls herself together quickly.

After the vows are exchanged, and Elder LeRon kisses my mom, the ceremony ends, although we have to stand up here letting everyone in the church hug and kiss us. I am so not feeling that. I’ve got about fifty different shades of lipstick smeared on my face, and everyone’s breath is not fresh. I mean, if you’re gonna eat an onion and pickle sandwich you can at least respect the personal space perimeter or get yourself some extra-strength Altoids. For real.

Speaking of people who don’t respect personal space, clammy-hands Kevin is standing in line with his grandparents. Kevin has been in love with me for like ever, and trust, it is completely against my will. And why did he just wink at me? Boy, bye!

“Here comes your boyfriend,” teases Hope.

Candy overhears and scrunches up her nose. “That’s your boyfriend? You have horrible taste.”

“Kevin is not my boyfriend,” I argue. “Hope is the one who went out on a date with him.”

Hope pinches the back of my arm and frowns. She would love to forget her “date” with Kevin. It was really supposed to be my first date with Romeo, a football player at Longfellow High. But Hope was in straight hater mode and invited herself on my date. That’s why she ended up chilling with Kevin for the evening. Let’s just say that was not a fun outing for Hope.

Actually, though, even though Kevin is the opposite of everything fab, he is a whole lot better than Romeo. Months have gone by, but I’m still somewhat irritated about how Romeo played me. You don’t just get over a boy taking you out on a date and leaving you stranded at the beach, just because you won’t get freaky with him.

I know that Jesus would forgive him, but I’m still getting there, okay?

Kevin finally makes it through the line and hugs everyone, including me. “Gia, you look really pretty.”

“Thank you, Kevin,” I reply with a tight smile.

I almost said something smart, but I’m practicing accepting compliments graciously. And if I do say so myself, outside of this pink, frilly monstrosity, I do look kinda hot! My hair is especially fresh because Gwen gave me a two-stranded twist-out.

I see you giving me a blank stare, so let me explain. My mom washed my hair and then put cream and gel in and twisted it down my back until it dried. Then she untwisted it and let the waves hang down on one side and pinned it up in the back.

Yeah, reread that and take a mental picture. Just trust me, okay? It’s fly.

Next in the line is Ricky. Hope reaches ahead of me and hugs
my
best friend. I think I need to keep saying that, because Hope doesn’t seem to understand. She’s trying my patience.

Then Ricky hugs me too. “Are we going skating after the reception?”

“You know it!” I reply and give my boy a high-five.

Hope frowns at me. “Do you think you could act like a lady for five minutes?”

I roll my eyes at Hope and ask Ricky, “Can you scratch my back?”

“Gia!” exclaims Hope.

Ricky and I crack up laughing because we know this irritates Hope. Hope and I have only recently renewed our BFF status. We went through some drama during our freshman and sophomore years, but we’re cool now.

Even though we’re friends again, we have very different ideas on what is fab and what isn’t fab. Hope thinks that wearing designer clothes and making sure her lip gloss matches her purse is fly. The only matching I do is to make sure I have on two of the same socks. Outside of that, it’s a free-for-all.

Finally, it’s time to head over to the church social hall for the wedding reception. Gwen got Sister Benjamin, from the kitchen ministry at church, to cater, and I’m getting super hungry thinking about her fried chicken and sugar yams. I’m about to get my serious grub on.

Hope, Candy, and I sit at the wedding-party table waiting for our food to be brought by the servers. I’m in chill mode, but Candy is looking like a straight hater with her arms crossed and her face pulled into a haterific frown.

“What’s wrong with you, Candy?” asks Hope.

Candy looks Hope up and down and says, “Mind ya’ bidness.”

“Ugh,” replies Hope. “You would be cute if you weren’t so evil.”

“And you would be cute if…well, nah, that would never happen,” says Candy.

Can I just say that I agree with Hope? Candy has long, thick hair that she wears in a braid down the back of her head. Her eyes are big and pretty too, and she’s got smooth dark brown skin with not even one pimple.

But Hope is right. Candy is not just evil…she’s superduper evil.

I never thought I’d meet anyone as sarcastic as me, but Candy has got me beat for real. Anytime she opens her mouth an insult comes out of it. Even if you say something nice to her, she gives off nothing but negativity.

It’s not a good look.

“I’m going skating with you,” Candy says as if it’s true.

“Um…no you’re not,” I reply.

She lets out an evil cackle. “Oh, yes I am. I already asked your mother and she said that you had to let me come.”

What! We’ll see about this. I march right on down to the other end of the table where the new Mrs. Ferguson is grinning and cheesing. Yeah, she can calm all of that down, because we need to have a conference.

I tap Gwen on the shoulder and she looks up. “Hi, sweetie. The food will be out in a minute.”

“Okay, but did you tell Candy that she could go skating with me and Ricky?”

She pauses for a moment like she’s trying to remember. Then she says, “Yes, I think I did. LeRon and I think you two should get to know each other, since you’ll be living under the same roof.”

“Mom, that’s not fair. She’s not even nice, and I don’t want her around my friends.” I know I’m whining, but I really am not feeling this.

Gwen frowns. “Too bad. She’s your new sister and sisters stick together.”

“But, Mom!”

“Deal with it, Gia!” Gwen fusses. “Don’t make me get ugly with you on my wedding day. You are about to make me mess up my makeup.”

Elder LeRon sits down next to my mother and asks, “Is everything all right, Gwennie? Gia, why are you frowning?”

Gwen gives me a look that says,
You better not say anything.

So, I don’t. I go back down to our end of the table and eat my food in silence. Not even Sister Benjamin’s extra crispy chicken and sugary yams are making me feel better. And Candy isn’t helping either, sitting there with a smirk on her face.

Candy leans over and whispers, “I told you, Gia. Your mother wants me to like her and she’s going to do anything I ask. Me and you are going to have lots of fun this year.”

Why do I get the feeling that her idea of fun is my idea of torture?

From
It’s All Good

T
he answer is
no ma’am.
Actually, the answer is a big, fat
no ma’am.
There is no way I’m going to say yes to this foolishness, no matter how much my mother, Gwen, begs. No matter how much my aunt Elena gives me that puppy-dog stare.

The answer is no and that’s final.

What is the question, you ask? Well, Aunt Elena has a big idea. She calls it a big idea, and it’s big all right. A big, fat hot mess. But since she’s the pastor’s wife everyone, including my mother, is going to back her up.

She wants to start purity classes at our church and she wants me to recruit girls to participate. And not just girls from our church, but girls at school too. Why doesn’t she just ask me to make a sign that says LAME and stick it on my forehead?

Of course, I’m down for being a member of the purity class. Because the flyness that is Gia Stokes is also the purest of pure. But I don’t have any plans to go around the school announcing my virginity! That would be social suicide.

So I’m sitting here on my mother’s favorite couch with my arms folded and a fierce frown on my face, while Gwen and Elena try their best to tag-team me.

“Gia, you are a youth leader! The younger girls look up to you,” Elena says.

“She’s right, Gia,” Gwen agrees. “You would be good at this.”

“Did anyone ask Hope to do this?” I ask.

I pose this question because Hope is the obvious choice. It would make sense since she is the pastor’s daughter. Shouldn’t she be required to endure the embarrassment of being part of the pastor’s immediate family? She certainly gets to enjoy the perks!

“I did ask Hope, but she didn’t want to do it,” Elena replies.

I look to my mother for help. “So, she gets to refuse, but I can’t?”

Gwen says, “You neglected to mention that you asked Hope and she said no. I thought the two of them were going to work on this together.”

Elena laughs. “You can’t expect Hope to do something like this. She’s not really cut out for it. It would come across better from Gia. She’s more studious.”

So my aunt is pretty much calling me a lame. And lames are supposed to be virgins, right? If I close my eyes tightly and concentrate really, really hard will I be able to stop time and escape this madness?

“Are there going to be any boys in the classes?” Gwen asks.

Aunt Elena laughs. “Of course not. This purity class will culminate in a debutante ball. I’ve never heard of a boy debutante.”

“Well, boys should learn about purity too,” my mother argues.

“That will have to be something for the men to address.”

You’ve got to be kidding me! So, not only are we going to have a purity class (which I’m sure will be uncomfortably embarrassing), but they’re going to parade us around in poofy white dresses to prove that we graduated.

Good grief.

How about we talk about the reason my aunt came up with this ridiculous idea to begin with? This all started when my cousin Hope decided that she was going to go stark raving boy crazy. Now Aunt Elena is all twisted, thinking that her precious daughter is going to become a teen pregnancy statistic or something. Hence, purity classes.

Hope pretty much flipped her wig at the beginning of the school year when she chose my best friend, Ricky, as her first big crush. She and Valerie, my co-captain on the Hi-Steppers dance squad, both competed for Ricky’s affection. It was utterly ridiculous.

And holla! He didn’t pick either of them. I think he actually picked me! I say that I
think
he picked me because we haven’t worked out all of the details on that. But, on the night of the Homecoming dance, he gave me a Tweety charm bracelet.

And that was totally something.

Clearly it was something, because you don’t just buy your best friend jewelry. Especially when that best friend is the perfect choice for a girlfriend! But it’s been two weeks since Homecoming and there have been no can-I-be-your-boyfriend follow-up activities. Not a note, not a wink, nothing! Not even one of those distressed “I hate that I like you” looks like that teen vampire from
Twilight.

Nada. Zilch.

Gwen says, “I think that both Gia and Hope should recruit girls for the purity class. Y’all need to start with that fast-tailed Valerie.”

Can you tell that Gwen no likee Ms. Valerie? My mother has had beef with Valerie since she gave me a makeover when I was in the tenth grade. She also helped me sneak out on a date and other assorted foolishness. So, yeah, Gwen has her reasons.

I want to remind Gwen of what Jesus would do in this scenario, but I also want to continue breathing, so I decide against it.

“Mom, Valerie will not want to be in the purity class. Plus, I don’t know if she qualifies. Do you have to be a virgin to be in it?”

Because if the answer is yes, Valerie is sooo not on the recruit list. I mean, I don’t think she qualifies as an actual skank or anything, but she’s pretty close. We’re talking major non-virginal activities.

“Absolutely!” says Elena. “The whole point of the class is to encourage young ladies who haven’t taken that step yet.”

I almost laugh out loud. Unfortunately, I think Hope and I are gonna have a hard time finding anyone in the junior class that will qualify. Maybe we’ll start with the freshmen.

“Okay, Aunt Elena. I’ll pass out a few flyers, but I’m not making any promises.”

Elena kisses my cheek. “Thank you, sweetie!”

“But only if Hope has to help!” I add.

“Oh, all right,” Aunt Elena says. “I’ll tell Hope that she needs to assist you.”

Gwen says, “Candy will help, too. The three of you will make a great team.”

I groan loudly. Candy is my all-around irritating stepsister. I spend enough of my downtime with her as it is, seeing that she macked her way onto the Hi-Steppers squad. Now I have to take purity classes with her, too! So not the bidness.

My phone buzzes at my hip, taking my attention away from Gwen and Elena.

I read the text message from Ricky. Hey you!

See, this is what I’m talking about. What exactly does
hey you
even mean? Is that a greeting for a home girl, or for someone you’re trying to holla at? I think Ricky is purposely being ambiguous (go find your dictionary, boo) so that he doesn’t have to deal with the possibility of
us
.

Since I don’t know if I want to deal with that either, I understand his pain. But I’m going to need him to snap out of it and declare what the whole mystery of the Tweety bracelet means.

The Tweety bracelet that I’ve been rocking every day like my
boyfriend
gave it to me!

I text Ricky back with an equally ambiguous: ?

Take that, Ricky Ricardo.

“Who are you texting?” Gwen asks.

Mmm…kay. Why is Gwen all up in my bidness? “Ricky.”

Gwen narrows her eyes and shares a glance with Aunt Elena. “Good grief. You girls are going to ruin Ricky with all of this attention.”

“I agree. He’s not the only boy on the planet,” Elena adds.

“Uh, I’m only responding to a text that my friend sent me. You two are completely out of control.”

Why is it that when I’m finally getting my little shine on, everybody wants to throw powder on it? Nobody, especially Aunt Elena, had any problem with Hope’s desperate chasing of Ricky! Did anyone tell her to pump her brakes when she was writing him twenty-page letters?

The answer is no.

Did anyone tell Hope to stay home when Ricky made it abundantly clear that he was not trying to be her date for the Homecoming dance?

Yeah…that would be another
no.

So they can absolutely save the hateration. They can save it for some time in the hopefully not-too-distant future, when Ricky is actually my boo.

Oooh, hold up a second. I’m going to have to give myself a lame citation for using the early 2000 term
my boo.
Womp, womp on me!

Gwen sighs and says, “We are not out of control. You young ladies are out of control, which is exactly why I’m one hundred percent for this purity class. All this boy chasing and carrying on must cease.”

Did I just roll my eyes extra hard? Yeah, I totally did.

“I agree, Gwen. It’s time we put our feet down and stop this madness!”

Okay, seriously, Auntie Elena is moving her mouth and sound is coming out, but she’s not making one bit of sense.

“I said I’d be on your recruitment squad! Can I please be dismissed? You two don’t need me in the room to discuss the state of today’s teenager!”

Gwen narrows her eyes and turns to Elena. “Do you see what I have to deal with?”

“Hope isn’t any better,” Aunt Elena replies.

A growl escapes my lips as I storm off to my bedroom. I plop down on my brand-new Tweety comforter and pull my phone out. It’s buzzing again.

Hi-Steppers meeting in two hours at IHOP.

This time it’s Valerie blowing up my phone. I already know what she wants to meet about. The Longfellow Spartans are going to the state football championship, and we have to do an extra-special routine.

Valerie should be glad she’s still on the squad after what she pulled at the Homecoming game. She was extra heated that she didn’t win the Homecoming Queen title and take over the halftime show. She had the drum major in the marching band give a speech about her and everything.

It was bananas!

Somehow, I think Valerie still isn’t over the loss to quiet little Susan Chiang. She blames every single last person on the rally girls spirit squad, my cousin Hope included, for not getting that Homecoming Queen crown.

And if she’s not over it…then the war is not over.

If I was one of the rally girls, I’d be taking cover. They’re going to be walking down the hallway, and out of nowhere someone’s going to yell “Man down!” just like Keyshia Cole’s mama on that reality show.

And trust…it’s going to be
all bad
.