Get Over It (2 page)

I
've set foot into Big D's studio a gazillion times since the very first time, when Dreya was dating a rapper named Truth and he wanted to show off for his chick in the recording booth. That was the day all of this started. It hasn't even been a whole year, but it feels like it's been forever.

When I walk in, Shelly, Big D's main girlfriend (don't ask), greets me with a smile.

“Hey, Sunday,” she says. “Haven't seen you in a while. You hungry?”

“Of course! What did you cook? It smells good in here.”

Shelly does a dramatic flip of her thousand-dollar hair weave. “I made some jambalaya, girl. I put my foot in it too, just saying. You want me to fix you a plate?”

I nod greedily. “Yes, I do. And can you hook me up a to-go plate for later?”

“You know I got you. I'll bring it downstairs in a minute.”

Shelly clicks out of the room in her six-inch Louboutin red bottom shoes. I bet she cooked the entire dinner in those shoes, those skin-tight leggings she's wearing and her long acrylic nails. She's a video chick with extras. And as big as Big D is, her cooking skills are definitely a perk.

I bounce down the stairs to the lab, the room with all of the equipment we need to make hot songs. Well, almost all the equipment. Someone has to have a hot idea. Those require the muse.

Sam looks up at me as I enter the room. He leans back in the soundboard chair and lifts an eyebrow as if he's waiting for something.

“Hey,” I say.

“Hey, Sunday. Ready to work?” Sam asks.

I nod. “Yep. Let's go.”

Big D claps his hands. “That's exactly what I want to hear. You've been stalling and we need to get going on your project. We can't let everyone forget about you now that Evan is releasing new music from Drama.”

Dreya's new single, “All Hail the Queen,” has been burning up the charts since Evan released it a week ago. This isn't bad news at all, as far as I'm concerned, since I wrote it, but Big D is still concerned with me and my grind, because Dreya is no longer his artist—she belongs completely to Evan and Reign Records.

“Well, I'm ready to go,” Sam says. “I'm just waiting on Sunday to get her mind right.”

I look from Big D to Sam and wonder how I'm going to drop the bomb that's coming next. Since Big D has a half mean mug on, I turn my attention to Sam.

“I want to record this record at my studio,” I say. “I think I need a change of scenery, because I'm coming up dry on lyrics right now.”

Even though I'm looking at Sam, Big D is the first to reply. “So are you saying that you don't want me to be a part of this project?”

“No! You are still the executive producer, no doubt.”

“Did Evan tell you to do this?” Sam asks. I thought he was going to be on my side, but he seems concerned too.

I shake my head. “No, no, no! This is about me. My vibe is wretched right now. I'm just hoping that the change will make everything . . . between me and Sam . . . feel new again.”

Big D lets out a frustrated sounding sigh. “I do want you two to get back on the same page.”

“Well, then don't fight me on this, Big D. I don't want to hurt your feelings, so I'll record here if you pitch a fit, but I really want to try this out.”

“All right. I guess. As long as this is your idea and not Evan's. I feel like he's coming between us.”

“Maybe you and Dreya, but not me!” I say, trying to reassure Big D. “And Sam's right here too, even though he's the main one sleeping with the enemy.”

Sam laughs out loud. “Mystique's beef with Drama has nothing to do with me and Zac.”

“I'm gonna act like I didn't hear you say that, because you know that's not the truth.” Big D's serious and disapproving glare punctuates his sentence.

“I just make tracks,” Sam says as he winks at me. “I let the divas be divas.”

“Speaking of divas, Big D, I'm going to be a little diva-like for a minute. I need to talk to Sam . . . alone.”

Big D rolls his eyes as Shelly descends the stairs with my food. She sets the plate down on the table and puts her hands on her hips. “I wish the two of you would just stop tripping and get back together.”

“Come on, Shelly. As long as they can figure out how to get Sunday's record done, I don't really care about the romance.”

I walk over to the table, sit down and take a bite of the yummy-smelling dish. “You might as well move back down here, you know. You're here more than you're in New York City.”

Sam folds his arms across his chest and purses his lips together in a straight line. “That's what you wanted to talk about?” he asks. “If I do move back, are you gonna let me move into your sorority house?”

“You wish! And it's not a sorority house. Boys live there.”

“Right. The preacher virgin, the football player virgin, and the video vixen.”

I shake my head at Sam's dis to DeShawn. “Hateration is unattractive, Sam.”

“But my money makes up for it. Being a baller is pretty hot.”

“Being a ballerette is even hotter,” I say.

I close my eyes as I shovel more food into my mouth. Shelly's jambalaya is incredible. Big D ought to buy her a restaurant.

“Okay, stop playing and say what you gotta say,” Sam says.

“You aren't running anything, Sam. I'll talk when I'm ready.”

Sam throws his arms in the air and shakes his head in frustration. “Whatever.”

“I don't like that we have a hard time working together now.”

“Are we talking now?” Sam asks, an edge of sarcasm to his tone.

“Yes. You are permitted to speak.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “I don't like that we don't vibe the way we used to either. I miss that.”

“I miss that too.”

“So what are we gonna do about it?” Sam clears his throat and looks at me as if I have the answers. I have no answers!

“I'm gonna be honest. Every time I look at you I think about you deflowering Rielle.”

“Please, for the love of everything, get off of that! It was one night. It was horrible and it was a mistake. If there's any one action I could take back, it would be that.”

I narrow my eyes at Sam and try to pierce his soul with my gaze. He definitely sounds sincere, but what does sincerity have to do with anything? It doesn't change the fact that Rielle
did
lose her virginity to Sam on prom night. No matter how much Sam would rather wish it away.

“I'm glad you would take it back if you could. Remorse is a good start.”

Sam sighs. There's more sadness in the sound than frustration. I don't know why he just expects me to get over this. I'm not being this way just to get on Sam's nerves. If I could just get over it, it would make it a lot easier for me too!

“So what are we going to do, huh? I can't write without you, and I don't really like you. What are we going to do about that?” I ask.

“I don't know. I guess you'll have to decide to start liking me again.”

“You don't think you should help facilitate that?”

Sam shrugs. “I don't know what else to do. I've apologized, gone without a girlfriend, and been a straight-up monk. You know the truth now, because you talked to Rielle. So . . . I don't know what else I can do. Maybe if you moved all those boys out of your house, you'd miss your real friends.”

I roll my eyes at Sam and laugh. He would probably do anything to get DeShawn out of my house, but he's not going anywhere. DeShawn is even planning on staying with me over the summer instead of going home. Everyone else except Piper is going to be with their families in two months. I'm not exactly sure how that's going to work, but I'm not opposed to it.

“They are my real friends, Sam. If you'd hang around town long enough to get to know them you might like them too.”

“Yeah . . . no.”

This conversation is not going the way I envisioned that it would go. Sam runs one hand over his low fade and grins at me. Even though almost everything about Sam has changed, his face has not. He's not exactly what you'd call cute. He has thick eyebrows, a big nose, and full lips that he keeps sufficiently unchapped. But the sum of all his parts is a pleasant face that I've come to appreciate.

“I've got some decent music ideas. None of them are completely fleshed out yet, but that's because my mojo isn't right. The feel I want for my next record isn't exactly pop or R and B. It's more like country pop. Do you think we could do that?”

“I can do whatever you want. You just need to talk to your mojo. Have a real heart-to-heart with dude, and let him know how much you still need him.”

“What makes you think my mojo is a dude?”

“Your mojo is a chick?”

I burst out laughing. “Sam! My mojo isn't a person. It is an it! And it is not acting right these days.”

“How can I help?”

“I don't know. Maybe you could talk to it,” I say with a giggle.

Sam clears his throat and looks at my forehead. “Dear Mr. or Ms. Mojo . . .”

“Wait, why are you looking at my head?”

“Isn't that where imaginary friends live?”

Both Sam and I fall into a giggle fit. He is a nut! And I have missed Sam, no matter how much I hate to admit it.

“Sunday,” Sam says, “let's be friends again, okay? I really want you to be my girl again, but I can understand why you're not feeling that. But you need your mojo, and I need my muse.”

Sam rolls up his sleeve and points to a tattoo that he got in my honor, and then points back at me. I give him a weak smile.

“Okay.”

“See how easy that was?” Sam asks.

He gets up, takes the fork from my hand, and puts it down on my plate. Then he pulls me to my feet and gives me a warm, extra-friendly hug.

I close my eyes and inhale Sam's familiar scent. This is easy—too easy. But not very far away are thoughts and reminders of all the things Sam has done to hurt me in the past. Even closer are thoughts of DeShawn, de-shirted and swimming in our pool.

I take in a deep breath and sigh. Maybe “Sam as Friend—the sequel” is going to be just a little harder than I think.

C
an I just say how happy I am that we're almost to the end of freshman year? I just took an exam that dang near chewed me up and spit me out. Gia was so cool during the test that I wanted to pop her in the head. And I still have no idea whether I passed or not. Piper had to take a test in another class, and she looks just as wiped out as I do. We're probably both glad that this year is coming to an end!

“What's wrong with you?” Gia asks as we cross the courtyard on the way to the parking lot. “The test is over.”

“Nah. It's not over until I get my grade.”

“Okay!” Piper says. “I need to see how it all turned out before I jump for joy. These tests are kicking my tail and we still have to take finals next month. I don't know if I can make it.”

“Did you do your best?” Gia asks, sounding just like my mother.

“Yeah, I did, but it won't make me feel any better if I flunk,” I say.

Piper says, “Academic probation is no joke, and not somewhere I want to be, especially since Ms. Moneybags isn't paying for me anymore. I have scholarships to keep, here.”

“Ms. Moneybags? Wow. I thought I was Landlady Sunday,” I say to Piper's amusement.

“You're that too!” Piper says. “And you're the best landlady in Atlanta.”

Gia says, “Right. I don't know what I'm going to do when I graduate from Spelman. Like, who wants to go back to living in a regular house once you've lived in a mansion with a pool?”

“And hot boys,” Piper adds.

“Right! But I hope when you say hot boys you're not talking about Ricky. You don't get to say he's hot.”

“And I don't know how I feel about you saying DeShawn is hot,” I say.

Piper stops in her tracks. “Okay, Gia I understand, but Sunday, are you serious? You aren't even checking for DeShawn for real. Why do you care if I think he's hot?”

“Do you think he's hot?” I ask. “Are you trying to holla at him on the sly?”

Piper's eyes fill with tears. This girl is so super sensitive! She didn't have to start crying.

“I can't believe you would say that to me, Sunday. I love you so much! I wouldn't ever talk to anyone you even thought about liking. Give me a little credit.”

“Okay, dang!” I say. “I believe you. Let's just get home so I can eat my leftover Chinese food.”

“Ooh, do you mean the egg foo young I saw Kevin eating for breakfast?” Gia asks.

“Really? Dang, I need to get some more food, now.”

“Let's go somewhere and eat outside!” Gia says. “It's beautiful out here.”

I totally agree. The warm weather is helping to take my mind off my probably bad test score. After the cold and bitter winter, we went straight to summer temperatures. It's in the eighties today and girls all over campus have shed their boots and jackets for shorts and baby tees.

“GPGs ahead,” Gia says referring to the group of Gamma Phi Gamma girls walking toward us. Meagan and another girl are with them, both dressed in little blue T-shirts and black biker shorts.

Piper's face twists into a frown when she sees Meagan. As far as I know they haven't talked to one another since Meagan decided to stay with the boy who was playing them both.

They stop right in front of us. Ring leader of the sorority, Peony, says, “Introduce us, apprentices.”

Meagan steps forward and clasps her hands. “Greetings, Sunday, Piper, and Gia, please pay close attention to Big Sister Peony, Big Sister Sharday, and Big Sister Millicent for they have something very important to share.”

Meagan walks back to Peony, bows her head, and stares at the ground. She doesn't move again until her big sister pats her head, and then she goes to stand next to her wretchedly dressed twin.

“I thought freshmen couldn't pledge,” Gia says.

Millicent says, “Pledge? Who's pledging? Gamma Phi Gamma has a spring intake for freshmen in great academic standing who want to be Gamma Girls starting sophomore year.”

“So by intake you mean pledge?” I ask.

“No, by intake we mean intake.”

Gia and I share confused glances. This is exactly why I want nothing to do with sorority life. I can't be going around talking in code all the time. I keep it real.

“Okay, whatever. See you around, Meagan,” I say as Gia and I start to walk away.

“Actually, I was wondering if I could speak to Gia and Piper for a minute,” Sharday says.

“What do you want to talk to me about?” Gia asks.

“The Spring Step Show taking place at the end of next month.”

Yes, the Greek step show! I'm looking forward to that. We plan to posse up and go to Club Pyramids and see it. The owners are hosting the event and providing a twenty-five-hundred-dollar grand prize. It's one of the college events that I always wanted to attend and that my mother would never let me go to, but she's not the boss of me now!

“Why do you want to talk to me about the step show?” Gia asks.

“Because Apprentice Meagan says that you are very gifted in choreography, and we are somewhat . . . lacking in that department. Apprentice Meagan says she thinks you could help us win.”

Gia lifts one of her eyebrows in Meagan's direction. Unfortunately, Meagan can't see Gia's irritated expression because she is still staring at the ground. If this wasn't so pitiful, I might actually be enjoying it

“Maybe I can, maybe I can't,” Gia says. “It all depends on what I'm working with.”

“Why don't you come by our house tomorrow afternoon, and we'll show you what we've come up with so far,” Sharday says.

“What's in it for me?” Gia asks. “I don't have any sorority aspirations, so . . .”

“You don't? What a pity. You'd be a great Gamma Girl,” Peony says.

The girl dressed like Meagan makes a sound almost like a huff, and Peony snaps her head in her direction.

“Apprentice Noelle, is there something you wanted to say?”

“No, Big Sister Peony.”

“Really? Because I think that there is. Do you disagree with my assessment of potential Gamma Girls?”

“No, Big Sister Peony.”

Peony smiles. “Good. Tell everybody why.”

Noelle clasps her hands and says, “Big Sister Peony is ever gracious and exceedingly intelligent. Her beauty is far above rubies and her worth is unparalleled. She and only she will decide if I am worthy to wear the turquoise and white.”

“Good. Now get back over there with Apprentice Meagan and be silent. Apprentices should be seen and not heard and speak only when spoken to.”

Peony's face brightens as she turns her attention back to Gia. “Now, as I was saying, you'd make a great Gamma Girl, and I really hope you decide to help us with our step. If you do and we win, we'll give you some of the prize money.”

“How much?” Gia asks.

“Five hundred dollars.”

Gia looks at me, and I shrug. I never thought I'd feel this way, but five hundred dollars is peanuts to me. Gia could use it though, so I don't comment.

“Okay. I'll come to the house tomorrow at about two. Have everyone in comfortable shoes.” Gia points to the Gamma Girls' signature stilettos. “None of you will be able to learn a step in those.”

Even though Meagan doesn't look up, I can see the smile on her face. I wonder if she thinks Gia is doing it for her. I know she's not. Gia can't resist someone asking her to choreograph. If they hadn't been paying her anything she'd do it. Dance is her passion.

“What do you want with me?” Piper asks. I'm sure she didn't mean to sound as eager as she does.

Sharday takes two steps and then puts her arm around Piper. “Well, we have four seniors graduating, so we need some fresh blood and quickly. Apprentice Meagan mentioned that you were interested in being a Gamma Girl, so I thought I'd invite you to participate in our intake process.”

“You want me to pledge?” Piper's voice is practically a squeal.

Sharday looks at me and Gia and says, “No . . . I'm inviting you to be a part of our intake process.”

I feel like there's some hidden joke and I keep missing the punch line. I know that there's been some drama around the Greek organizations on campus. They've cracked down a lot on hazing, but the pledging process is alive and well. I guess there's nothing wrong with it, if you really want to join their group.

“So what do I have to do?” Piper says.

“There is some paperwork you need to fill out, and an essay to write,” Sharday says.

“An essay?” Piper doesn't sound enthusiastic about that at all. I wouldn't either, not after taking a test.

“Oh, it's easy. It's all about why you want to be a Gamma Girl. You do know why you want to be a member of Gamma Phi Gamma, right?”

“Yes! I want to be the member of a historic sisterhood that has produced so many great African American women in our community. And, even though I'm not African American, sisterhood is something that connects our spirits and has nothing to do with the color of our skin.”

Gia and I exchange slack-jawed glances. This girl is beyond obsessed. Even Meagan stares at her in shock, as if she didn't know it was this deep for Piper.

Sharday claps her hands together. “That's exactly what I'm talking about! I knew you would be a good recruit!”

“You did? Really?” Piper asks.

“I did. But can I ask you to do just one thing while you sport the royal blue and white of our apprentices?”

“Yes, anything.”

“Can you please limit your piercings to one in your ear?”

Piper chuckles. “My nose and lip ring are magnetic, and for Gamma Phi Gamma, I'd happily remove them. I would never do anything to disgrace my chapter.”

“Don't get ahead of yourself,” Peony says. “You haven't crossed yet. Shoot, you haven't even started yet. You still have to convince all of the big sisters and not just Sharday. My great-great-grandmother founded this chapter, and I'm sure she's turning over in her grave about a white girl even attending Spelman, much less trying to join her sorority.”

Piper looks alarmed. “I hope I can convince you all. And Peony, I would hope your great-great-grandmother might be open to a sister with just a smidge lighter skin.”

“Mmm-hmm. We'll see,” Peony says, seemingly unmoved by Piper's rainbow connection speech.

I don't have a good feeling about this. Not Sharday—I've always liked her. She's definitely sincere, but I have an idea that Peony will never be won over, and that Piper may be wasting her time. But how do you tell a friend this? Especially when she wants it more than anything. I'll tell you how. You don't.