The Girl of His Dreams (21 page)

“H
i, Daddy,” I say the minute he picks up. I'm in my car on my way to school. Um, actually, I'm on my way to pick up Fiona first; then I'm heading to school. She texted me last night asking if she could catch a ride to school with me. I told her yeah. Whatever. I'm not sure what that chick's agenda is, but she stays pressing me to hang out, so I'm probably going to hang out with her one day after school—for a test run—to see how she really moves before I start making plans to doing anything else with her. She's cute and all. And she dresses fly. And she acted like she can go with the hands when Quanda and the Bodyguard tried to serve me. But I still don't know until I see her actually hook off. Like I said, being a pretty girl don't mean jack if you can't rock if some hatin' ho tries to bring it to you. And I ain't about to be fighting some other chick's battles. Oh, no, boo-boo. That's not what I do.

“Hey, baby cakes,” Daddy says. “Is everything okay? I don't have to come through the tunnel and yoke none'a them little jokers up, do I?”

I smile. “No, Daddy. I just wanted to hear your voice. And I wanted to ask you something. Are you busy?”

“I'm never too busy for my favorite girl. Hang on. Let me finish up this last entry. It'll take a sec.”

“Okay.” I glance at the flashing red light on my phone alerting me that I have a new message, either email or text. I switch screens while I wait for my dad to finish up whatever it is he's doing. It's a text.

Gm sexy. I'm askn again, yo. Let me take u out

I smirk, deciding to make him wait. I already know I'm going out with the boy, but shoot. A hot chick never comes off thirsty for a boy. Oh, no. We make them sweat it out. And if he can't wait it out, then
poof
. . . on to the next! He wasn't worth the time. But, okay, okay . . . I'm gonna keep it real. The only reason I really haven't told him yes yet is because I want to talk to my dad, first. Being around Antonio makes me nervous. He's too much like my dad. And I'm so afraid of getting all caught in him and his BS that I might start becoming a mini-version of my mom. And I can't have that. I
won't
have that.

“Baby cakes, you there?”

“Yes,” I say, stopping at a light. I dig in my bag for my lip gloss, but come up empty.
Dang, I left it on the counter in the bathroom.
I stumble on the note Antonio slipped in my locker. I had forgotten about it. I finger the folded piece of paper.

“Sorry about that. Now, you have my undivided attention. What's on your mind?”

“Well, Daddy, I wanna ask your opinion on something.”

“Okay, baby, I'm listening. Shoot.”

“What if, hypothetically, you kinda like somebody, and you purposefully try to avoid them, but they keep coming around and pressing you? And the more they press you, the more you find yourself liking them and wanting to be around them even though you know they have a reputation of messing around with a lotta different people.” Someone in back of me blows their car horn when the light turns green. I roll my eyes, blowing my horn back as I drive off.

“Well, that depends,” he says. “Does this person have anything to do with you?”

“What if it's not me?”

“Then I'd say go for it, but proceed with caution. You know, keep your eyes open. And if something doesn't feel right, then cut it off.”

“Okay, but what if there's something about this person that still makes you want to give them a chance. Do you follow your heart, or follow what's in your head?”

“Again, if this is about you and some knucklehead playboy, then you follow what you already know.”

I laugh. “Daddy, he's not a knucklehead. At least I don't think he is. He's actually in all honor classes and plays on the basketball team.”

He chuckles. “Oh, is that right? And he just happens to have a harem of girls chasing behind him?”

“Yeah, something like that.” I sigh.

“Okay, and you still want to spend time with him?”

“I guess. I mean, yes. I just don't wanna play myself out either, you know? I mean, I know how he moves. And I swore I wasn't gonna be beat for any more boys like him. But there's something different about him, Daddy. I don't know what it is, but deep down, I think he has a good heart. I don't know. But I wanna find out if I'm right or wrong about him.”

“So you really like him?”

I smile, stopping at another light. “Yeah, I do. But I haven't told him that I do. Or anybody else.” I tell him about the fight with Quanda and what I told her I was gonna do. I stare at the note.
To Sexy You,
the front of the note says.

“So, basically it's really about you tryna piss another girl off because you know she doesn't like you, is that right?”

“Well, at first, yes. But now . . .” I shake my head as if he can see me through the phone. “I'm not so sure.”

“Then what is your heart telling you to do?”

I open the note.

I sigh. “To give him a chance.”

“Then there's ya answer.”

“Okay, thank you, Daddy.” I turn down Bergen, then down Wilkerson. “I gotta go.”

He laughs. “Oh, so that's how you do ya old man now. Pump me for advice, then dump me.”

I laugh with him. “No, silly. I'm picking up this girl from school and don't want her all in my business. You know I love talking to you.”

“I know you do, baby cakes. Are you coming to spend the weekend with me this weekend?”

“Umm, I think I might have a date this weekend. But definitely next weekend, okay?”

He laughs. “Okay, baby. So, does this knucklehead gotta name?”

“Daddy, he's really not a knucklehead. And his name's Antonio.”

“Oh, a'ight. Well, you tell Antonio that if he steps outta pocket with you that I'ma be at his doorstep, ya hear?”

“Okay, Daddy,” I say as I pull up in front of Fiona's house. I blow the horn. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. And remember what I said. Don't do nothing that doesn't feel right.”

“I won't,” I promise, disconnecting just as Fiona opens the car door and gets in.

“Girrrrrrl, I'm so glad you pulled up when you did,” she says, strapping herself in with the seat belt. “I thought I was gonna hafta go off. My mother was just about to take me there with her early morning BS. I mean, c'mon. She snapping over dishes in the sink from last night. Uh,
hell-looo,
boo-boo
.
If I washed up all the dishes before I went to bed and
you
wake up to find dirty dishes in the sink, whose fault is that? I mean really. What, I look like the dish patrol to her? I swear that woman stays
PM
Sing year round. I told her she needs to get that situation checked. It makes no sense for her to be that dang evil all the time.”

I sigh.
First thing in the morning and this chick is at it with the drama.
I'm relieved when she pulls out her Galaxy S3 and starts clicking away on the keys. “Oh my god, Bennnnnnji has. Got. To. Be. Kidding. Me. If he thinks I'm going to be okay with him inviting some skank he met on Facebook to the motel this weekend when she doesn't even have a face pic up on her profile or any other pics posted up on her Timeline or in her photo album. OMG, who does that? And then she doesn't even have Instagram. Is he serious? What kinda dinosaur is this chick? Who doesn't have pics up of themselves on Facebook or an Instagram account unless they some kinda atrocious.”

She waits until I stop at a light about five blocks away from the school. “Would you look at this?” She shoves her phone up in my face. “Look at that old raggedy avi on her Twitter page. Oh, she's definitely some kinda natural disaster.” She quickly yanks the phone back before I can glance at the screen to see the chick's default display picture. Her fingernails rapidly click against the keys. “Girl, I'ma gonna use that phrase
boom
you say. Boy, boom!” she says, typing. “Wait until I get to school. Oh, I'm about to shut it down on his head.”

She rambles on the whole car ride, talking to herself or to her phone or maybe to the voices in her head because I haven't opened my mouth to say a word. The only thing on my mind is getting to school and seeing Antonio Lopez.

I pull out my phone when we get to another light. I text: U can take me out fri. pick me up @ 6 sharp!

By the time we get to the school, park, then get outta my car and start walking toward the building, Antonio's outside standing by the gate waiting for me.

“Awww, there goes ya boo,” Fiona says, taking her eyes off her phone for half a sec to look around the parking lot.

I roll my eyes. “He's not my
boo
,” I say, holding back a smile.
But he will be
. “We're just talking.”

She cuts her eyes over at me. “Yeah, ohhhkay, if you say so. I see the way the two of you look at each other and so does everyone else.”

“Excuse
you?
And what is it you and the rest of this nosey school
think
you see?”

She drops her phone into her bag, then takes a deep breath. “You smell that?”

“Smell what?”

“Love, boo. That's what I see. That's what everyone else sees.” She looks toward where Antonio is standing. “That boy right there is in love, hun. Trust me. And you know I ain't one to gossip. But let me tell you. He has never, and I do mean
never
, stood by that gate waiting for anyone. Not even any of his boys.”

“Yo, Fiona,” Crispy Critter from my math class calls out. “Why you ain't hit me up last night, yo? You stay frontin'.”

“Travis,
boom
. And you stay ugly, but you don't see me throwin' that up in your face, now do you?”

I have to laugh. She's extra with it, but she's a cool chick. And yeah, someone I think I can hang with. Maybe even bring her out to Brooklyn. Uhh, on second thought, nah, I better not. I think she'd wear Tre and them's nerves down. They'd be ready to rock her top.

Antonio grins. “So, it's official. Me 'n' you.”

I roll my eyes. “Me and you going out, chilling. That's it.”

He laughs. “Yeah, a'ight.” He holds the door open for me. “You smell good, yo.” He tries to grab me. “I just wanna eat you up, yo.”

I slap his hands off me, laughing. “Boy, please. Hands off! You can look, you can sniff, but you can't touch.”

He grins. “Oh, word? I can look 'n' sniff. Then let me see.”

“Ugh. You're so disgusting,” I say, heading for my locker as he walks alongside me. I glance down at his feet. He's rocking a fresh pair of wheat-colored Timbs.

“So, what you doin' tonight? You wanna chill?”

“Nope,” I say, spinning my combination lock, feeling his eyes on me. “I'm busy.” He puts his hand up on the door of my locker when I open it.

“Yeah, a'ight. Busy doin' what?”

Just as I'm about to reply, I see Quanda coming down the hall, eyeballing me hard. I decide to give her something to feel sick about. I grab Antonio's hand, slipping my small hand into his.

“Yo, you need'a stop.”

I smirk. “Stop what?”

“Yeah, a'ight. Let me get a kiss.”

Oh, this boy thinks he's slick.
But anything I can do to rub salt in that trick's face is fine with me. I stop in the middle of the hall, cutting my eyes over at her as he leans in and kisses me on the lips.

“M
an, I asked Miesha out, yo.”

I'm at Cease's crib, up in his room, playin' PS3. We're in a serious battle, blowin' up buildings and bodyin' mofos. Blood 'n' guts splatterin' e'erywhere. Cease's all amped, yellin' out commands like he's in real combat or somethin'. And it's kinda funny to watch. He just starts zonin' out, like he got mofos really takin' orders from 'im.

“Say what? You did what?” Cease asks, pausin' the game and peelin' his eyes away from the screen and lookin' over at me. I repeat myself. “Oh, word? What'd she say, yo?”

“She said
yeah,
man. You know the honeys can't resist me for long.” I kinda laugh, half jokin', half serious. She got me wantin' to put in a buncha work I ain't used to. But somethin' tells me she's worth it. Still . . . it feels a lil crazy.

He gives me a look that I can't figure out. Like he's judgin' me or somethin'. Or maybe it's shock. Not that it should be 'cause he already knows how I do it.

“Daaaaayumn, son,” he says, rubbin' his chin, “you ain't waste no time tryna snatch that thing-thing up. So y'all kickin' it now? That tongue work musta been real right, for real for real, yo.”

I grin, thinkin' back to how her lips felt. The warmth of her tongue. The way her soft hand felt on the back of my neck as she pulled me in to get more of me. How I grabbed her up when she tried to walk away and started tonguin' her down. Whew, feel myself startin' to sweat a lil. I gotta shift gears real quick to keep myself from gettin' all excited. The only chick I'm tryna check for at the moment is her.

“Yeah, man. It was a'ight.” I don't tell him more 'cause I don't want him gettin' any ideas for himself. I mean, he's my boy 'n' all, but still . . . he don't need to know all the details. Not 'bout her. He looks at me like I'm two scoops from crazy. “Yo, get the eff outta here! Are you serious, yo?
You
asked
her
out. The dude whose idea of a date is a box of popcorn and a pack of Twizzlers followed by sex.”

I chuckle, shakin' my head. “Yeah, man. Go figure, yo.”

“Hol' up, yo. Have you ever really been on a date,
date?
Like actually pickin' up a girl at her crib, walkin' in and meetin' her parents, then bringin' her back before her curfew?” Of course he already knows the answer, but he ask it anyway. I tell 'im, “Nah.” He plops back in his chair, droppin' his controls in his lap. “Damn.” He shakes his head, rubbin' his chin. “This is big, son. You sure you know what you doin', yo?”

I laugh. “Yeah.

“One kiss and that girl got you wantin' to peel paper off on 'er. Man, she must have some sweet tastin' lips fo' sho. You must be really diggin' her.”

“Man, real rap. I think she might be the one, yo.” He stares at me wit' his mouth open, but he ain't sayin' nothin' 'cause he's waitin' for me to finish. “I can't explain it, yo. It's like when I see 'er at school I get this crazy feelin', fam. Like drums beatin' in my chest or somethin'. And when I hit 'er up and we're on the phone vibin', it's like I can't get enough of 'er. Time just flies, man. . . .”

Cease busts out laughin'. And I can't help but to laugh too 'cause I'm soundin' mad sappy 'n' the shit comin' outta my mouth ain't even me. It sounds mad crazy.

Cease shakes his head. “Man, listen. Don't do it, yo. That broad's gonna rape ya pockets fo' sho. And you know you can't take her to no crazy spot, like Popeyes, either. She's sexy as hell, fam. And I can see why you snaked Justin to get at 'er . . .”

“Yo, hol' up, hol' up,” I say, puttin' my hands up. “Pump ya brakes, fam. I ain't snake Justin, yo. I wouldn't do him or any of my boys like that.”

“Uh-huh. But you did. Or at least that's how he sees it.”

I frown. “Man, go 'head wit' that. I can't help how he sees it. I ain't snake him, yo. But is that how you see it? Keep it a hunnid, yo.” I eye him, hard. I got mad luv for my boy. And I'd like to think he
knows
that that's not how I get down. I've never got at any chick he or any of my boys were rockin' wit', even the ones who were tryna throw me them panties behind their backs on the low.

“They weren't even really kickin' it like that.”

“Yeah, but you knew he was diggin' 'er.”

“Yo, c'mon, Cease. You already know, yo. If I
knew
they were really vibin' like that I woulda fell back, word is bond. And I did. But, yo, she came at me. I wasn't even thinkin' 'bout her like that. You saw how she tongued me down all up in the cafeteria two weeks ago. I was chillin' wit' y'all, yo. You think I knew that was gonna pop off? I was caught off guard wit' that, yo. But I ain't gonna front like I ain't glad it happened 'cause them lips were right. Hands down, she's bad as hell.”

“Yeah, man,” he agrees. “But you know all that sexiness comes wit' a price tag, yo. And it ain't cheap, feel me?”

I laugh. “I know I'ma hafta put some work in, and spend a few dollars....”

“A few?” he laughs. “Good luck wit' that, yo. You better try'a stack, yo. Or damn near close to it. She def doesn't seem like the kinda chick who's gonna be cool wit' a meal at the food court.”

“Nah, yo. I've gotta 'nother spot in mind. But, yeah, you right, man. I'ma def hafta spend some bread.”

He nods. “So when you doin' this?”

“Friday night.”

Now I'm feelin' like a chump for admittin' that ish. I mean, Cease's my boy 'n' all, but tellin' him that she might be the one, or that I'm really feelin' her, isn't how a player like me gets down.

“Let me know how you make out wit' that, fam. Now let's get back to the game so I can finish slaughterin' ya men. Talkin' 'bout you only tryna hit that. Ha, yeah right! Hit this, ninja!” He goes back to blowin' ish up, hollerin' out commands. All I can do is shake my head 'n' laugh.