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Authors: Ni-Ni Simone

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BOOK: Get Ready for War
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I set my bag down on her table. “How do you think I knew? I went to her house. I saw the bowls of pills and the fountains overflowing with booze. I saw her mother passed out on the sofa, drooling. I was the one who stood there, humiliated as she danced and popped and rapped in front of all her druggie friends . . .” I felt my eyes starting to burn with tears. I fought to keep them in check. I loved that girl. She was the second best-friend that had betrayed me and turned her back on me. And the first one was standing right in my face. “. . . Talking about how she did us all in. But guess what? The rules were clear. Or did you both forget ? Selective amnesia, is it? I was told that we play nice in public, but behind closed doors we don't deal with each other. So why would I tell either one of you anything? Y'all don't like her. And you don't like me, for no good reason other than to be mean and nasty. But it was all good last year when you were talking to me about London behind her back, about how much you hated that she was moving to L.A. And now that she's here, you're busy smiling up in her face; the best of friends. How phony is that?”
“And, ohhhhhkay. But I like her now. And my problem now is with you. So stick to the matter at hand,” Rich said.
“And what exactly is your problem with me? Since I've never gotten a clear answer on that.”
She huffed. “Oh, Spencer. Get over yourself. Don't stand here and try to act like you don't know what my problem is with you. RJ, RJ, RJ ... 'til the end of effen time. You were my friend. But you had to go run off with him. Our friendship wasn't enough for your sleazy behind. You had to sleep with my brother—the golden child. And then I get blamed for that.”
“Are you serious? Rich, you're the one who went back and told your parents.”
“Yeah, I did because I warned you that I didn't like you messing with him from the pickup. I let you slide the first time I caught you letting him hump you.”
“Please, Rich. That happened like how many years ago? And you're still on that?”
“Yeah, but it happened more than once.”
“If you're talking about what happened over the summer, you need to get over it. RJ is grown. He slept with me because he wanted to. He didn't need you to babysit him or monitor who or what he was doing. You were busy being desperate trying to get the attention you've always wanted. You thought telling on us was going to get RJ in trouble. Jealousy got you cock-blocking. Who does that? I didn't run off telling your parents about you and Knox, but you all up in my business.”
“Ho, you were my friend. And you turned around and screwed my brother, after I told you I didn't want you messing with him. Then what do you do? You start dating him behind my back, being the sneaky little skeezer that you are. You were all up in my house. And I didn't even know it. And my mother didn't care that he had you all locked up in his bedroom 'cause she trusted you. Mmmph. Sweet, sweet Spencer and perfect RJ. She thought you were a nice little virgin girl and her pride and joy was Mister Innocent, so yeah I told.”
I fought back my tears. I really cared about RJ, and I really cared about Rich. But I couldn't understand what the problem was. “He was my first love. And you broke us up.”
“And you ruined a friendship. Your own mother didn't want you around for the holidays, but I did. My family embraced you. We loved you. I loved you like a sister. And you stabbed me in the back by sleeping with my brother. You put him before me. Before our friendship.”
I twisted my lips. “Well, it's too late to be crying over spilled cookies. What's done is done. I slept with him. I dated him. And I cared about him. But he's moved on. He's in Oxford. And you and I are standing here. Now what?”
“Good question,” London said. “How about we start with a truce.”
I folded my arms, eyeing Rich, who was eyeing me back. And we both had tears in our eyes. “You know what, Rich? Even though you make my panties ruffle, I miss that. I miss what we had. But I know we'll never have that again. I don't trust you.”
“Exactly,” London said. “And Rich doesn't trust you, either. How could she, after what you did to her? So enough of the memories. You all have new best friends. I'm Rich's best friend. And Heather's yours.”
Rich smirked. “Well, she was until she turned on you.”
“Yeah,” London agreed. “And that's not our fault. But we still need to figure out a way to get along. Now do the two of you wanna reign at the top again, or be down at the bottom looking up at some other hoes sitting up on our thrones? I'm not gonna let you two keep dragging me. If y'all wanna argue about brothers and who's screwing who, then do you. But I'm not going to be bothered with it. Before I let myself get defamed I will hop on the next jet to the UK and go to boarding school and never think of any of you again. Enough's enough. So, what's it going to be? The truth is, neither one of you can stand to be in the media because they will chew you up, spit you out, and never let you go. You tryna be Kim Kardashian, Nicole Richie. Paris Hilton can't get a kind word if she paid for it. Is that what the two of you wanna be, defamed hoes? The friendship is over. I get that.”
Mmmph. I could have sworn London said that with a smile. I eyed her, raising a brow.
Rich rolled her eyes.
I sucked my teeth.
“Look, the two of you can stand here looking silly if you want. But we need a truce. And we need it now. So, Spencer, you better—”
Nothing unnerved me more than the word
better
. I didn't take orders from some king-size Whopper queen. “I don't think so,” I snapped, walking toward the door. I turned to face them. “As Rich said: The only commitment I have to the word
better
, is that I
better
stay rich and I
better
stay beautiful. Anything other than that is optional. I'm out.”
I snatched open the door and there stood this six-foot-tall cat daddy dripping with chocolate. I didn't know who he belonged to, but he was definitely somebody's sin. And if I didn't have my mind set on getting home to London's boyfriend, I would have forgotten my manners and had her houseguest, too. I pushed him to the side, no excuse me, no nothing, and swayed my hips. I could feel his eyes on me as I popped my sock-it-to-me out the door. And all I could think was,
Eat it up, baby! Maybe I'll come back for you next
.
7
Rich
I
t was a good thing that I worshipped in the Church of Stay Fly and Be a Lady at All Times; otherwise I would have taken my diamonds off, yoked Spencer by the nape of her ultrabony neck and choked every ounce of super-duper dumb out of her. Just who did she think she was! And did she really just try to shank me? Like really? Really? She'd better be thankful that I didn't believe in throwing the first punch or I would've torn her up.
Straight got it crunked.
Word.
Hood was already blueprinted in my genes so it would've been as simple as filing a nail for me to take it to the streets. And not Rodeo Drive either. Crenshaw.
Thing was, I didn't do ghetto.
Straight classy.
And besides, I didn't feel like tearing up London's house. I'd much rather ensure that Spencer's Twitter account was hacked and the secret freak-nasty video of her in black leather and RJ with whips and chains, tweeted its way to her darling followers.
Hmph, I knew how to behave. Even revenge had proper etiquette.
But
if I hadn't
exercised control over my manners—psycho-freak would've brought the worst out in me.
Truthfully, I felt sorry for her. Like, she had to be either high or crazy... and judging by the way she carried on I'd take door number one. After all, she and Heather were besties for a reason.
Bing!
A lightbulb went off—Heather and Spencer: fraternal twins from the planet of Stoopidcrackwhores.com.
Clutching pearls.
I swear I really needed to get back to my appointment. The standing one I'd had with misery. Feeling sorry for myself took precedence over this nonsense. If anything, I needed some spa time to recuperate, because the last thing I expected on my way over here was a gang fight with my AF-turned-archenemy.
Puhlease.
Spare me.
Spencer was so selfish. She'd rather fight with me than look in my eyes and see that I was in pain.
“What are you doing here?” London's voice drifted into my ears and interrupted my me-time. I looked over at her and that's when I realized I was standing center stage and in my audience was a sweet piece of chocolate—a hottie. A sweet-like-apple-cider cutie. A boo-drop so fine that the only thing on my mind was where'd he been all my life.
Snap-snap, baby.
Now this was what I called the antidote to misery. “Awwl,” I said, walking over to him and boldly locking my right arm into his left. “Did London invite you over here to make me feel better?” I gave an innocent schoolgirl giggle, while placing his free hand around my waist. I winked my eye at London and gave her a thumbs-up.
Yank!
Oh . . . my . . . did this heifer just rip me from this Zulu warrior's arms? I looked London over like she had lost every bit of her mind. She had to know better than to touch me when I was being consoled by a cutie. “Oh, hell no!” I snapped. “London—”
“Are you serious right now?” She rolled her eyes at me. Real hard and real stank. “You need to calm your freak meter down!”
Freak meter? Is she trying to play me?
Before I could say anything she looked at my future baby-daddy and said, “I asked you a question.”
He smiled and I swear that sexy smile lit up the room. “I can't get no love?” he asked London.
She hesitated, so I stepped up—lip gloss poppin' and cleavage show-stoppin'.
Snap. Snap.
“What, you want a hug, FBD?” I smiled at him.
He blushed. “FBD?”
“Future baby-daddy.”
“You don't need any more baby-daddies,” London said, pissed. But I didn't care, I was too busy blowing an air kiss at FBD and watching him return my affection with a soft wink. Hmph, as far as I was concerned we could skip the formalities, leave here, and go and get married. Meow. I'm certain that being Mrs. Sexy would look hella good on me.
Just as I went to tell boo-boo my life story about being hurt and looking for a man who would treat me right, it hit me that I was being selfish.
OMG.
And selfish was soooo not me.
Here I had used my thickalicious body and stunning good looks to seduce this dude and I had no idea what he may have been to London. Suppose he was her way of getting over the king of corny—Anderson?
I took a step back and just as I started to ask London who he was, he drank me in, in full view, and said, “Yo, L-Boogie, what's good? Who is this sexy thing?” He licked his lips and flicked my chin. “Can we get an introduction?”
Immediately my temperature rose. I swear if somebody had checked me right then I'd have had a fever. I fanned my face and made sure that my D cups bounced as I slid my arms around his neck and said, “It's okay, L-Boogie, I got the introductions and the condoms.” I paused.
I don't believe I just said that
. I fought back my blush. “I'm just playing—”
“Yeah, right.” He smirked as he reached out and touched the tip of one of my curls and twirled it. “I betchu was just playin'.”
Whew!
And to think that when I arrived here I was down in the dumps, but now I was clearly on the mountaintop. Yes, yes, Mt. Everest. Miz Thang's swag was back.
Boom!
But before I could decide if I wanted to take him home or arrange a short stay, I needed to know his name. Nameless boys weren't my forte. That was for hoes. “Yeah, L-Boogie, introductions, please.”
For the second time in a matter of minutes London hesitated and I had to take charge—again. “The name's Rich,” I said. “Rich. Like an overflowing of cash. I'm sixteen, newly single, and two hours and fifteen minutes ago I had issues, but as of right now, I'm stress-free. Now give me your stats, lil daddy.”
“His name,” London said with a razor-sharp edge, “is Justice.” She slid in front of me and blocked him from my view. How rude.
“Oh, this is Justice?” I said, bumping her out the way and now resuming my place in his face. “Why didn't you tell me he was so delicious? I mean, such a nice and fine, chocolate, strapping young man.” I brazenly touched his right bicep and ran my index finger up the protruding vein. If I were fresh, and easy, by the end of the night I would change his name from Justice to Give-It-To-Me-Daddy. It took everything in me not to purr. I quickly grabbed my purse, scribbled my number down on a piece of paper, and as I went to hand it to my FBD, I let the paper slip and land right on top of my breasts—my fleshy hilltop. Then I took my hand and pushed the piece of paper into my valley. “OMG. Would you look at that?” I pointed to the edge of the paper in my cleavage. “I only wanted to give you my number and it seems I lost it.” I pointed. “Down there.”
London looked at me as if I were some dirty hot trollop. “You can calm down and tuck your horns back in. This is not the week for freaks or an STD lottery.”
Screech!
Oh, no she did'eent!
Can you say mad hater? And umm, wasn't she just crying over Anderson this afternoon? And umm, just a couple of months ago—the same night we stormed into the club and broke bottles over my ex-boyfriend Corey's and Anderson's heads—she insisted that I get with her friend
Justice.
The same
Justice
standing here, and now she was throwing shade? Like what was good with that? Who does that? Or had she reneged on the invitation?
I looked at her and said, “London, what's up with you turning into Shady-Old-Lady-Grady. I'm tryin' to drop my boom-bop and you're putting me on pause. Did something change, 'cause last time I checked you were trying to hook me up with Justice? Remember? Or was I dreaming?”
Justice shot London a nasty look as he removed my phone number from my fleshy valley.
London's eyes turned dead red as their gazes clashed. “No, you weren't dreaming,” Justice said. “London told me a lot about you, sweetness.”
“Yeah, I did,” London snapped. “But that was right before she told me that she wasn't interested in meeting you. That she was hung up and strung out over Knox.” She squinted her eyes at me. “Yeah, remember Knox, Rich? And remember those nine months you came over here mourning about him?”
I don't believe she said that. And Knox? I know she didn't bring up Knox. The mere mention of Knox's name at this moment was a declaration of war and I know London didn't want it. So I shot her the same nasty look she gave me, but before I could cuss her out and instruct her to watch her mouth, my phone rang. For a moment I thought about taking my ringing phone and slamming London in the head with it. Then I looked at the caller ID:
Knox.
And my heart dropped.
She'd conjured him up. And now the flood of emotions that I'd been able to push to the side had crept back into my chest and hung out there. I could feel tears beating in the back of my eyes, but there was no way I was going to cry. No way in hell. At least not while I was standing here.
Instead I gathered my purse and slid it on my shoulder.
Justice looked me over and said, “Lil Sexy, you bouncing already? What's good? When can I call you?”
I shot London a slow, nasty look that rose from her toes to her head and said, “Maybe you should ask L-Boogie for permission.” I walked over to London's bedroom door and slammed it behind me.
Trick-ass! I can't believe she played me like that.
Knox's call rolled into voice mail. Once I was at my car I leaned against the driver's-side door and sucked in a deep breath.
Don't cry . . . don't cry . . .
Memories of Knox pained the hell out of me. It had been a week since we'd broken up, and although he'd been calling me every day—sometimes three or four times a day—I refused to answer the phone. He'd hurt me and he would have to deal with that.
 
I whipped into my driveway and almost crashed into the garage.
What . . . in . . . the . . . hell . . . is Knox's car doing here?
Is he crazy?
I swallowed and slowly walked up the stairs. I opened the front door and there in the foyer was my baby. The only man I'd ever loved with my whole heart. The only man who'd ever loved me—and not just for my body, but simply because . . . he just did.
I looked at Knox and almost smiled. But then I quickly reminded myself why we were in this situation in the first place. “What are you doing here?” I asked him snidely. “Last I heard from you we weren't doing this anymore. And who let you in here?”
“I did.” My mother's words cut across our conversation and she stared at me without blinking. Disgust was written all over her face. I could tell she wanted nothing more than to bring it to my throat again . . . but she didn't. Instead she said, “Make this quick.”
“Really?” My eyes brightened. “You're going to let him stay?”
“Don't get it confused,” my mother said sternly. “I'm still not pleased with you. And you do not have my blessing. But since you're a grown woman, I'ma let you handle this. But just know that you will not be bringing your men up here in my home. Get your own spot. Now, like I said, make this quick.” She turned on her heels and left us standing there, her wrath lingering behind her.
“Now why are you here?” I turned back to Knox.
“Wassup with the attitude?” He looked at me with his eyebrows furrowed.
“Don't worry about that. Now why are you here?”
“I didn't come here to argue with you, so watch your attitude and take it down.” He took two steps toward me. “We need to talk.”
“We don't need to do a thing but part. You go home and live your life, resurrect Nikki, and I'ma go on and do me.”
“Here we go with this bull! You're back on that again? Things don't go your way and you throw a tantrum! I don't have time to be playing with you—”
“You're right you don't have time to be playing with me, or to be sneaking and creeping with me at eleven thirty, twelve o'clock. You don't have time to be driving fifty and sixty miles just so I can duck and dodge cameras. The only thing you have time for are condoms and lectures to tell me about how you can't do me. So cool. Since you don't have time then, what are you standing here for? Why don't you step? As a matter fact you're moving too slow.” I walked over to the front door and swung it open.
Knox shook his head. “You're pathetic. Do you even hear how you sound? You are really buggin'. I've been calling you for five days straight, leaving four and five messages a day. And you would have four or five more if your inbox wasn't full. I came here because I was feeling like dirt, and bad—”
“Yeah right, Knox. Only reason you're here and the only thing you want to know is if I plan on ruining your lil precious life. Well, I don't, college boy, so you go run along and play with your frat brothers, 'cause I'm good. Now. Get. Out!”
He chuckled in disbelief. “You got some serious issues.” He shook his head. “You don't have to tell me twice to get out. I'm not gon' sweat you. I told you what it was. I told you how I felt, but you only hear what you want to hear. Did you hear me when I said that I wanted to be with you all the time? That we had to take it slow because we had the rest of our lives to be together? But you didn't hear any of that. So skip it, you're right. You do you, and while you're doing that, grow up. Little girl!” He walked swiftly out the door and before I could think about what to do next, he was revving out of the driveway and reversing down the hill.
Immediately my heart shattered, pieces of it flying in different directions, pricking my skin and making me feel sick to my stomach. My head ached. My heart ached. My body ached. I was confused. I didn't know what to do. All I knew is that I was leaning back against the wall, sliding to the floor. Tears raced from my eyes.
BOOK: Get Ready for War
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