Put Your Diamonds Up! (11 page)

A week later

 

S
weet fashion gods of glory, thank you for laying me and slaying me in this Valentino jumpsuit and seven-inch red bottoms. Thank you for making me anti-back-fat and stomach-roll-free. Thank you for keeping my shimmy-shimmy under control. Now all I need you to do is give me patience and keep me from slaughtering this five-six, broad back wildebeest as she gets out of her car and stampedes over to me.

“How's my hair?” Rich's version of
hello
. Before I could answer, she whipped out her gold compact. “Oh, never mind!” She took a quick left-to-right peek at the flawless weave draped over her shoulders. Then blew herself a kiss and slammed her compact shut. She tossed a glance at me. “Trick, you already know I need some face time, honey. Now smile, Spencer.” As if on cue, we flashed middle fingers at the not-so-well-hidden paparazzo who hung upside down in a tree and zoomed his camera in on us.

We locked arms and proceeded up the red carpet. “Why didn't you call me last night?” she demanded as the doorman tipped his hat and welcomed us into Hollywood High. Never one to take a breath, she continued running her motor. “See, Spencer. This is what I'm talking about. I keep
trying
to be nice to you.
Trying
to be a good bff to you, but you are wearing me out, honey!” She fanned her face. “You stay trying to bring it. And
you know
I'm having man problems. And
you know
you need to be on my phone for support. And
you know
I'm the only one who hasn't turned on you, not once! But did you call me?
Noooo
, you didn't. And this would be why I don't do slores.”

I blinked.

She continued, holding a finger up in my face as our heels clicked against the gleaming marble. “Don't get defensive. Just apologize for being rude and non-supportive, I'll forgive you, and we can move on.”

I stopped in my tracks and bit my tongue to keep from taking it to Rich's blemish-free face. I lifted my chin and waved my hand to the high heavens. I was
not
about to let Hogetha set my liner on fire with the slop that was drooling out of her gullet. Oh, no. I was going to be sweeter than a mud pie today, even if I had to choke to death on it.

Rich rolled her eyes. “Know what? You can keep your apology. But don't keep trying me, okay? Make that your last time . . .” Her voice drifted off as her eyes locked on Mister Lick Him Up Fine, the permanent substitute teacher, Mr. Sanchez Velasquez. He swagged his way up the hall in our direction.

Rich sucked in a breath and her eyes popped open. Mr. Lick Him Up blinked. Then his eyes zigzagged from Rich to me, then nervously back to Rich, before quickly making a beeline down the west hall.

“Ohmygod! I need an asthma pump!”

I furrowed a brow and eyed her suspiciously. “For what?” Her eyes scanned my face and I could tell she was contemplating spilling a secret, or trying to come up with a lie. I pressed on. “What do you need an asthma pump for, huh, Rich?”

She shot me a plastic grin, placing a hand up over her chest. “Girl, it's just that he was so fine I forgot to breathe. Revive me.” She took my hand and fanned it lightly over her face. “Whew, girl. Thanks.”

I yanked my hand back. Twisted my lips. Then tilted my head. “Yup. He's fine. Reeeal sexy fine. Puerto Rican give-it-to-me-one-time-fine.”

“Yes, he is!” She did a quick twerk, dropped down to the floor, and snaked back up.

“He's also Mr. Sanchez Velasquez. A
teacher
.”

“Oh,” she said absentmindedly, blinking her lashes as if she were fluttering out a memory. “So
that
was his name, Sanchez. I knew it was something like that.” She popped her fingers and mumbled, “I knew it started with a Z
.
”

I narrowed my eyes at her. Then snapped them open. “Oh
nooo
!” I choked back a scream. “You dirty tramp! You trickasaurus! You
didn't
? Did you?”

Rich plastered another fake smile on her face. “Did I what?” she said as we walked up to our mahogany lockers. “
Forget
how rude you've been to me? Of course not.”

I punched in the code to my combination, then opened my locker. I shot Rich another look. “Uh-huh. You slept with him. Didn't you?”

Rich's brown eyes met mine and then quickly flicked away. “Clutching pearls! Do I look like my coochie is marked
trashy
to you?”

“Nooo! You
look
like it's marked
used goods
!”

“Don't do me! And
don't
play me, bish! I don't sleep with teachers. Okay. Get it straight. I am—”

“In denial.”

She cocked her neck to the right and placed her left hand on her hip. “What? Excuse you. Didn't I tell you not to do me? I see I'ma have to get you together real quick! First off, you need to check your geography. I'm not in or on the Nile. I'm in Hollywood, California, honey. So get it right. You
know
I don't do Mexico.”

I heard crickets. But I was determined to overlook her dumbness even if it sent me to an early grave. I blinked, then sniffed the air. “You know what I smell?”

She frowned. “What?”

“I smell a whore. A low-down, man-eating, no-panty-wearing, dirty, skank-a-dank-a-dank whore who's added freaky teachers to her roster!”

“
Lies!
Never!”

I lowered my voice, eyeing her. “I
know
you. And you slept with him. So where were you when you sucked in his bones? The steam room or the janitors' closet? Pour me the man juice, sweetness! And let me get my drink on!”

Rich gave me an incredulous look. “Janitors?
Whaaat?
Clutching pearls! I don't do janitors. And I
don't
do closets. I
do
one man only. Four nights a week! Knox. My boo, you've got me confused with you, Miss Down On Your Knees, making videos in bathroom stalls! Don't try to project your tricks 'n' dirty treats over on me, swamp ho!”

I clucked my tongue and rolled my eyes. “I wasn't in a stall, for your information. When I unsnapped Corey's jeans and his belt buckle hit the floor, I was out in the open. With the door locked. So get it right, Trixie.”

“No, you get it right. Tryna call me out like I'm some loose woman! I'm a vixen.” She tilted her head. “See, you need to stay up off your knees and be more like me. I proudly label myself Miss HPV. Miss High Property Value. Let a boy get up on these curves and watch how his net worth shoots to the roof.”

Sweetjeezusinsixinchheels. She. Is. So. Dirtfloordumb! Where are the brain gods when you need them? “Okay, Miss
HPV
, Miss Human Pressure Vent, are you ready to
finally
tell me where you raced off to when we were at Knox's? You left me in that campus apartment for hours, alone with them. I could have been molested. Now do you mind explaining yourself?”

“Nope. I had an emergency and that's all I'm saying.” Her diamond bangles clanked together as she walked up the hallway and pushed open the door to the girls' lounge. I shut my locker and followed behind her.

She slammed her YSL clutch on the counter and looked into the mirror. “And don't ask me again.” She lifted her eyes and clashed gazes with my reflection.

I locked the door and checked each stall. I was determined that this outdoor roadkill tramp was going to tell me the truth today or I was going to reach down into her esophagus and snatch it out of her.

“Oh, I see we need an intervention, pronto.”

“Clutching pearls! I don't do that! I don't need
you
entering a thing in me!”

Jeezuskeepmechainedtothebedsheets! This girl's brain was filled with dust balls. “Would you shut up?! I'm not here to give you a pap smear. Although I'm sure you'd enjoy that. All I want to know is what the heck is going on with you now. Right now. And don't lie. Does this have something to do with that boy,
Justice
? Please don't tell me he's dead!” My heart skipped four beats. “You told me he was alive. Did he die? Do we need to live on the run? Did you turn state's evidence against me? Because I know you're a wet snitch!”

She rolled her eyes up in her head, then dropped them back over me. “No, he didn't die. But I wish he had!”

“What? Why?” I asked anxiously.

She turned around and leaned against the soapstone counter. “Spencer, I
swear
if I tell you something you had better not open your slut-bucket and go back and repeat it to Knox
or
Heather. That's what got your face slapped to the floor the last time, running your mouth. For trying to do me in with my man by backstabbing me.”

“
Whaat?!
” I slammed my purse down on the counter. “Rich, do me a favor, sweetness. Drink bleach and rinse slowly! I already
told
you I
didn't
tell Knox anything. So for the last time, drop it! And anyway, you already know I don't
backstab
. I front stab! I tell you to your face what I'm going to do. Then I do it. Now what is wrong with you? Are you pregnant? Ohmygod! Not again!” I stomped my foot and wiped my brow as if I were about to faint. “I can't with you. How many times will somebody have to scrape your insides out before you learn? What is wrong with you?”

“I'm not pregnant!”

“Thank goodness! Miracles do happen. Then what is it?”

“Justice.” She eyed me. “No judgment.”

This trifling ho-bag keeps her legs spread wider than an all-night buffet! How dare she accuse me of being judgmental! Whatever.
I swallowed my attitude. “No judgment.”

“God, Spencer. I want to be pissed off with him. I want to hate him. I want to never think about him again. But I can't seem to do that. I can't get him out of my thoughts. I thought when I dumped him that would be it. But it's not.” Tears filled her eyes. “He's in everything that I do. My thoughts. My dreams. My everything. I close my eyes and I see him. I hear him. I feel him. I taste him. His hands. His kisses. His voice. Everything about him is stamped into my brain. And I can't shake him, Spencer. I swear I'm trippin'.”

I chewed on my tongue like it was a piece of cherry bubblegum to keep from blowing a blood vessel. I stared at her, chomping away on my tongue.

“And believe me, I have tried everything to shake him. Platters and platters of hot wings. I've bought two hundred pairs of shoes in the last week. Had my stylist do me a new wardrobe. The other night, I flew to Paris for dinner. Ate up a bunch of snails. Alone. Only to come back home the next day with this mofo
still
on my mind! I need to be free of these thoughts, of him, but they are consuming me! And it's killing me because I don't know why.”

I kept chomping on my tongue, staring at her, wondering what was wrong with this dumb trick. That boy was a hood roach! No good! And from what Anderson had told me, capital T-R-O-U-B-L-E.
Hmm. I wonder if she knows that her little dusty thug-muffin waxes London's dinosaur
. Well, if she doesn't, she won't hear it from me. I don't gossip. And I don't do judgment. I thought to ask her who she thought took that blind-item picture of her that was scattered all over the internet, but decided to take a deep breath instead. I stopped tongue chomping long enough to ask her if she was in love with him. I held my breath, waiting to see if I would have to Mace her down real good.

“Never. I don't do love. Ever.”

I pushed out a sigh of relief. “Thankyoujeezus! Now what about Knox?”

She paused. “I love Knox. I really do.”

I narrowed my eyes.
And his only flaw is that he loves you. But noooo, you don't care. You'd rather dog him with your lying and cheating. Like he's some plaything. He's a boy with feelings; you obviously don't give a flim-flam about him.

“Rich, your mouth is saying you love Knox, but you just confessed that you were about to kill yourself over Justice.”

“Whaaat? Clutching pearls! I
never
said that.”

Where is my dang gavel? She is guilty as charged!
“Then what are you saying, huh? I'm trying to keep my mouth closed, trying to stay loving and kind. But you are really working the one nerve I have reserved for you.”

Rich sighed. “Spencer, I try so hard to do right. But I'm a magnet for swag . . .”

And fleas . . .

“I can't help it if this thick shake keeps all the boys barking in the yard. It's like they see all this thickalicious goodness and go crazy. Is it my fault I'm beautiful... ?”

And ratchet
.

“Rich, you
are
beautiful, sweetness. That isn't the problem.”
But your lies are going to ruin you.
“Knox is one of the few good ones left.”

Tears rolled down Rich's cheeks. “Don't you think I know that, Spencer? You're so hateful! I asked you not to be judgmental! This is why we can't ever be friends for longer than”—she glanced at her Harry Winston Rosebud—“twelve minutes and forty-seven-point-three seconds. My
real
friend, who shall be nameless because she's too busy trying to make a comeback on the runway, would
never
do me like this. Never. I'm sitting here pouring my heart out to you. And you know I don't do tears and drama. I just really hate you right now.”

I frowned, placing a hand up on my hip and tilting my head. “Don't you
dare
throw that cougar in Chanel up in my face. I heard you. You said you
loved
Knox but
missed
Justice. You said you knew Knox was a good guy. That the bad one is who turns you on. You don't want judgment, then fine. But know this”—I pointed a finger at her—“I'm not about to stand here and babysit your foolishness. I've been practically chewing my dang tongue off trying to keep from taking a lighter to your weave.