The Girl of His Dreams (17 page)

“O
oooh, you dirty skank. You did
whaaat?!
” Tre asks, pressing her face all up into the computer screen. I'm in my room with the door shut and the stereo on low. My future husband, Trey Songz, is playing in the background while me and Tre FaceTime it up. It's just she and I tonight. Stacy couldn't log on to her computer for whatever reason. And Jalanda's on punishment for the next two weeks for sneaking some boy into her bedroom. Her mom caught them in bed together. They weren't
doing it-doing it
, but they were doing enough for her moms to go off. And the fact that they were both only in their underwear didn't help matters any. So she's on lockdown.

“Hello? Hello?” Tre says, snapping her fingers. “Don't keep me waitin'.”

“Oh, whatever. You heard me, boo. I walked up on him and tongued him down right in the middle of the lunchroom.”

“Oh my god! What did he do?”

“At first, nothing. I think I shocked him.” I start laughing. “But then, after he realized what was happening, he kissed me back. And when I tried to walk off, he pulled me back and starting kissing
me,
again.”

“OMG!
Whaaaat?!
He kissed you back? Like with tongue?”

“Mmmph. Did he. And lots of it.”

“Boom, boom, boom! Ring the alarm!” She starts clapping and jumping up in her seat. “You done set it off, boo! You know how we do it. Snatch a ho's man. I want details! Details, boo!”

I wave her on. “Girl, please. There's nothing more to tell. I kissed him. He kissed me back. It was just a kiss. Besides, he didn't even know what he was doing.” I tell her this. But, the truth is, it wasn't just a kiss. It was a
kiss-kiss
. The kinda kiss that makes your knees buckle. The kinda kiss that has you seeing fireworks. The kinda kiss that makes your heart skip three beats, then start racing fast and hard. And, yeah, I could tell that he didn't really know what he was doing—which, by the way, kinda surprised me since he's the school's little Stud-Daddy. But whatever. The point is, Antonio Lopez has some nice, sexy lips.

“Oh my god, this is some juicy juice-juice, boo. Wait 'til Jalanda and Stacy hear about this. Oooh, them hookers make me sick for not being online right now.” I agree. “So where was the chick you had'a beat down at? Was she right there when you kissed her man?”

“He's
not
her man.” I state this with a pinch of stank, causing Tre to raise her brow and give me one of her oh-wait-a-minute-let-me-find-out looks. “Well,
not
anymore he isn't,” I quickly say.

“Mmmph. I know that's right. Not after the way you smacked them lips up on him. Oooh, I woulda been like,
Bam!
Take that, trick! If that was ya boo, he ain't no more. Now hit the floor, whore.”

I laugh. “She wasn't even in school when I kissed him. But her dog-faced groupies were. And that's exactly why I waited 'til lunch period to do it. I wanted all'a them heifers to see it go down so they could run back and tell it. And I'm sure they were blowing up her phone, and flooding up her Facebook wall with the news.”

“Oooh, and I'm sure someone took pics and got them up on Instagram by now.”

“Mmmph. You're probably right. Whatever. All I know is that ho brought it all on herself. I warned her. And she still wanted to pop her lips, so she got 'em popped.”

“And then got dropped,” Tre adds, laughing. “Ooooh, I wish I coulda been there. Why you ain't have someone video that for you? I know you gave it to her Brooklyn-style. Fast and furious, boo. Fists stay on ready.”

I laugh. “Yup. And if she comes back on that rah-rah ish, she'll get it again.”

“That's right. Let that ho know. We go in. We go hard. Wait. What's your new boo's name again?”

“He's
not
my new boo.”

“Not yet he's not.”

I roll my eyes. “Trust. I'm not thinking about that boy. And his name is Antonio.”

“Ooooh, Antonio. Is he Spanish or something? 'Cause ain't no Black boy named Antonio unless he gotta lil Puerto Rican in him.” She laughs. “ 'Cause you know them Black boys' mommas stay givin' them those ugly-ghetto names, like Kavonte Al'Sadeeki Brown, Nyquil Nighty-Nite Tyson Abdul Jones.”

I chuckle. “Girl, you stupid. I don't know what he is. I mean, he looks mixed with something, but it's kinda hard to tell since I really don't pay him any mind.”

“Girl,
boom
. Lies. So, save it. You mighta not been letting him think you wasn't payin' him any attention. But I know you, boo. You stay on cutie alert. And I know you woulda never kissed no dog-faced boy, boo.” Ooh, she's so right. I crack up laughing. “Now, what does this Mr. Antonio look like?

Tall. Fine. And sexy!
“He looks a'ight. I mean, he's cute and all. And he has a nice body. But he knows it.”

“Oh, like you. Conceited or convinced?”

“Oh shut up. I'm convinced.
He's
conceited.” She cracks up. “Whatever.” I glance over at the clock. It's almost eight o'clock. And I still have to finish up two reading assignments, one for English and the other for my Afro Studies class.

“Oh my god, girl, wait. Speakin' of ghetto. Guess who I saw, lookin' gooder than a Snickers bar ridin' the number four train?”

“Who?”

“Your old boo, Dynamite. And guess who he was with? And guess what they were carrying?” Ugh! I messed with that boy for like three weeks until this girl Shaneeta with a head like a horse texted me and told me he was at her house over in Clinton Hill and had just got done doing it to her. Then she sent me a picture of him in her bed, naked, to prove it. Messy trick! I was through. Then the stupid boy tried to lie and say it was Photoshopped. That he ain't never sleep with her. Like, really? Where they do that at? I wasn't tryna hear it. I pulled the alarm on that real quick.

I roll my eyes. “Girl, I don't care about that boy. And I'm not in the mood for no guessing games. So just tell me. Geesh.”

“Girl, whatever. He was with that girl Tay-Tay and . . .”

“
Eww
, yuck! Tay-Tay with them big teeth and black gums?”

“Yup. And he was holding their baby.”

“Their
baby
? Ugh. That boy don't care who he do it to. What the little thing look like?”

She smacks her lips. “Girrrl, I don't know all that. All I know is after she told me she named her baby Obamalee-sha, I was done. I didn't even wanna see it.”

“She did what?”

“You heard me. Obama. Leesha. A hot ghetto mess! Who does that to their baby? But annnyway . . . back to you and your soap opera. Now what? Are you gonna fall back, or are you gonna take this all the way to the sheets?”

“Oh, no, boo. I'm not sleeping with that dog. He does enough humping around for the both of us. I'ma stick to the script. You know how we do it. If a trick wanna pop slick over a boy, we turn it up, snatch him up, then drop him, boo. You know the drill. That delusional ho stayed threatening me to stay away from her man. Now I'ma make him mine.”

“That's right, hun. Snatch him up; snatch him up! She shoulda kept her trap shut and stayed in her lane. But don't you wanna sample them goodies?”

“Ugh! Are you for real? No thank you. Not interested. Kissing him was as far as it's gonna go. I'll string him along for a few weeks just to eff with that skank he used to mess with; then it's curtains. Anyway, you know dumb hoes stay testin' us. I don't know what it is. Is it the pretty face or this tiny waist that gets 'em all twisted up?”

“Boo, it's the hair. They stay rockin' them two-for one packs, and we keepin' it track free. Them bald-headed hoes can't stand the heat, boo.” Tre starts gettin' all amped. “Girl, just talkin' 'bout it is makin' me wanna take it to a ho's face. I need a blunt to calm me down. Ooh, I wish you were here. Turn it up; turn it up! Learn that ho! Ooh, I know you beat her down, lovely. But I wanna jump on her neck myself.”

“Trust me. After I'm done havin' her so-called man, if she still wanna pop off, she can get it.”

“Oooh, yessssssss, boo, straight to the skull. And the next time you gotta take it to her, snatch her scalp off her head. Matter of fact, let me know when you wanna get her, and I'ma hop the PATH train over there so we can tag team that ho's face up.”

I laugh. Tre stays ready for a fight. And loves when we snatch up a ho's man, just to prove a point. That we them hot chicks. The man snatchers. The heartbreakers. The Love 'Em ‘n' Leave 'Em clique. Although she and Stacy likes to hump 'em 'n' dump 'em, I don't go that far. I just run they pockets, then toss 'em to the side once I'm done with 'em. Or once their chick finally gets the hint that he really wasn't hers from the rip, then I dismiss 'em. And that's exactly what I'm about to do to her. Teach her. I don't get played. I get even. Boom!

 

“Yo, I've been lookin' for you all mornin',” Antonio says real low as he slips into the seat right next to me seconds after the bell rings. It's second-period English and Mrs. Sheldon is five minutes late. I can't stand that woman. She still be tryna do me in class with the attitudes and whatnot. And I stay giving it right back to her. At the end of the day, I'ma get an A outta this class whether she likes it or not. “We need to talk.”

I lift my eyes up from my sketchbook and glance at him. “About what?”

“Yo, c'mon, ma. Don't front. You know 'bout what. About what popped off in the lunchroom yesterday, yo. About that kiss.”

I tilt my head. I'm tryna sit here and be nonchalant about it, but inside I'm quickly melting like a double-dipped ice cream cone dropped on a fire. This boy never comes up to the front of the class. But here he is. I try to keep from sniffing in his cologne, but it isn't easy not to. Hmmm, he smells . . . mmph! I'm not even going there.

“Okay. I kissed you. What about it?”

He frowns. “What you mean, yo? I wanna know what was up wit' that. You came way outta left field wit' that ish.”

I smirk. “What, you didn't like it or something?”

“Nah, I mean, yeah. I mean . . .”

“Okay, which is it?”

“Both, yo. I don't be kissin' chicks.”

“Oh, that's interesting. 'Cause if my memory serves me correctly. And it does. You
didn't
stop me. And,
you
kissed me back.”

He glances over his shoulder, then scoots his desk closer to me. He lowers his voice to almost a whisper. “That's just it. I didn't stop you. And I kissed you back. I need to know why you did it.”

'Cause that ho Quanda tried to bring it to me.
I shrug. “I felt like giving out kisses yesterday. And you happened to be the lucky recipient of these soft lips. You can thank your little girlfriend for that.”

He frowns. “She's not my girl.”

“That's not my problem.”

“So, what, I'm some kinda pawn in ya lil game to get at her?”

I tilt my head. “Maybe. Anything else?”

He eyes me, licking his lips. Those lips. The ones I wanna lean over and nibble on. I shift in my seat. Blink my stare from his mouth. “I want them digits, yo.”

“We don't always get what we want, now do we?”

He grins. “Yeah, but I do.”

“Ha. We'll see.”

“Stop playin', yo. Come up off 'a them digits so we . . .”

“Okay, class,” Mrs. Sheldon says, whisking through the door, all outta breath. “Sorry I'm late.” She opens her desk drawer, drops her bag in, then shuts it.

I whisper. “Oh, well. Bad timing for you, perfect timing for me.”

“Whatever, yo. You need a . . .”

Mrs. Sheldon looks from Antonio to me, then back at him. “Mr. Lopez. Isn't
this
cozy . . . you up in the front row.” She shoots me another look. I roll my eyes, scooting my desk over a pinch, then closing my sketchbook. “Let me guess. The two of you are going over notes for class.”

Antonio smirks. “Yeah, somethin' like that.” He gets up to move.

“Oh, no, no. . . don't move on my account. Stay right there, please. As a matter of fact, I prefer you to sit there for the rest of the quarter. But perhaps not so close to Miss Wilson.” He grumbles, but sits back in his seat. “Now scoot your desk back over in its proper row.” She waits for him to fix his seat, then continues. “Okay, let's get started. Everyone should have finished reading
A Long Way Gone
by now. Am I correct?” Everyone tells her yes. “Good. Mr. Lopez, how about you tell us a little about the main character in the book. What did you think of his story?”

This chick really got it for this boy bad. He shifts in his seat, stretching his long legs out. I glance down at his feet. He has on a pair of Lebrons. His sneaker game is sick. I shift my eyes.

“It was deep. I mean for him to go through all he went through, and still come out on top . . . his fam bein' slaughtered, his village bein' attacked, havin' to wander from village to village to steal from other kids just so he 'n' his brother 'n' friends could eat. Then bein' snatched up to fight in a war 'n' forced to use drugs.” He shakes his head. “Yo, them mo...” Mrs. Sheldon shoots him a look, raising her brows. “Uh, my bad. Them dudes were savages for that. Turnin' them kids into junkies like that. That dude really got put through it. That whole book was crazy.”