If Only You Knew (5 page)

“Look, if you really like this boy like you say you do, walking around here moping with your bottom lip dragging on the ground isn't going to get him back. You need to be proactive. Take a page from me.”

“A page from you, huh?” Lauren said, smiling. “And from what book would that be in? Who are you, Dr. Phil now? Just because you went out on a coupla dates?” Lauren laughed.

“Oh, girl, you know I been had the gift of figuring out these little boys. Let's just say that while I was away, I picked up a few more pointers on how to catch a man and reel him in,” Donald laughed, mockingly catching a fish with an imaginary pole.

“Whatever, Donald!” Lauren laughed.

“Whatever, hell.” Donald said. “I'll tell you what you need to do: You need to stop worrying about what everybody else has to say about it and go on ahead and get your man. If you don't care about what kinda money he got in his pocket, or where his mama is from, or what his daddy is doing, why should you care about what other people think?”

“It's much more complicated than that, and you know it because I just told you…” Lauren began. But Sydney's touch made her body go cold.

“Sydney, darling—long time no see,” Donald said, giving Sydney a weak wave. He was still pissed at her for dragging him out of the closet, but he was getting over it. Kinda.

“Uh, hey, Donald, how you been?” Sydney stammered. “It's, um, good to see you. Lauren, can I talk to you for a minute?” she said, pulling her sister's arm.

“Can't this wait a minute? I'm just trying to catch up with my old friend,” Lauren said, forcing a smile to her face.

“I'm sorry. I know this is the first time you're seeing Donald since his, um, return, but it's really important,” Sydney insisted, her grip tightening around Lauren's elbow.

“Whoa, cowgirl, just give me a couple more minutes to visit with my girl, and then she's all—” Donald stopped his words cold and then started grinning like a giggly schoolgirl. He waved his hand wildly and motioned someone to come over. Before Lauren and Sydney could get a good read of who Donald's friend was, he'd already bounded across the rehearsal room and fallen into Donald's arms.

“I'm so glad you made it—it's great to see you!” the boy practically shouted. By now, the music in the room stopped playing, the choir members and their various clingers-on had stopped talking—hell, the birds outside stopped chirping.

“It's good to see you, too, baby,” Donald exclaimed. He leaned in and gave the boy a lingering kiss on the cheek, then grabbed his hand and swung it back and forth a few times. The collective gasp changed the air pressure in the room. Sydney and Lauren, eyes furrowed, looked at each other and then back at Donald, like he was a brother from another planet.

“Lauren? I want you to meet Dennis. Dennis Brooks. I met him at Trinity—he's my ex-roommate's brother. Goes to Morehouse. Isn't he cute?”

“Uh, nice to meet you, er, Dennis,” Lauren said, shaking his hand, alternately staring at Dennis and her sister.

“It's so nice to finally meet you,” Dennis said, giving Lauren's hand a tight squeeze. “Donald's told me so much about you.”

“Really? Because he didn't tell me anything about you,” Lauren said quizzically.

“Oh, and this is Sydney,” Donald said, less enthusiastically.

“Ah, yes, Sydney,” Dennis said, mirroring Donald's weak wave.

Sydney didn't bother to reply.

“Okay, everybody, showtime,” the choir director said, clapping his hands to get everyone's attention. Clearly oblivious to the drama, he started directing the altos to the rear, the sopranos to the front, the baritones to the middle. “Let's go people!” he shouted, looking at his watch. “Let's not keep the organist waiting!”

Donald turned back to his audience, not really caring about the attention he and his “friend” were drawing. “Okay, look, Lauren, I'm going to say this only once: Go get your man and stop caring about what everybody else says about it.” Just as suddenly, Donald snapped his fingers. “Or maybe you can bring him to you!”

“Donald, what the hell are you talking about?” Lauren asked, clearly confused.

“Bring him to you. You know, invite him to the party.”

“What party?” Lauren asked.

“Come on, sweetie, the Thanksgiving soiree at the lake house. What party? The party I haven't gotten an invitation to yet but plan to attend anyway. That party.” Donald laughed. “And speaking of which, just where the hell is my invitation?”

“Wait, how do you know about our party? We just got permission to have the party and haven't even begun to think about invitations yet, much less who to invite.”

“Don't you worry about how I found out. Donald knows everything—didn't you get the memo?”

“God, Donald…”

“Anyway,” Donald said. “Invite him to the holiday party. Let him meet everyone, get the folks used to him—spend some time.”

And with that, Donald straightened his tie, smoothed down his eyebrows with a little of his spit, kissed his man, and joined the choir line.

“Lord, I love it when a plan comes together,” he giggled.

“Tell me again how the two of you are related,” Rhea shouted as every male Brookhaven student lost his God-given mind at the sight of Lauren dropping her booty down to “scrub the ground” during the freestyle portion of the varsity dance squad's performance at the final football pep rally of the season.

Sydney just shook her head. “You know, I ask myself the same damn question
at least
three times a day,” she replied dryly with an eye-roll.

“Not to be funny, but there are a lot of full-time strippers that would be very intimidated right about now,” Carmen added as the squad collectively shook their moneymakers until the entire student body worked itself into a frenzy.

“What can I say? The girl's got gifts,” Sydney offered sarcastically as the squad wrapped up their routine. Moments later, the entire Brookhaven football team came charging out to the center court of the gymnasium through a huge paper banner, and pandemonium erupted.

Distracted by the contagious energy that filled the room, the three girls momentarily forgot about Lauren's courtside antics and jumped to their feet along with the rest of the students. “Brookhaven! Brookhaven! Brookhaven!” they chanted at the top of their lungs while waving baby-blue-and-silver miniature pom-poms. Just when the noise threatened to wake the dead, Coach Wiggins strode out to the center of the floor, grabbed the mike, and started introducing the starting players by name and position.

“Girl, Jason Danden is looking H-O-T in those tight-assuniform pants,” Rhea hissed as Jason was introduced to the audience.

“See now, I don't know about your sister, but that boy right there…I can just look at him and tell he's got gifts,” Carmen said as she and Rhea exchanged knowing looks.

“You guys are so scandalous,” Sydney replied, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible while sneaking a peek at Jason's ample package.

“Sure, like you never noticed,” Rhea teased as she attempted to poke Sydney on the side. Super ticklish, Sydney
immediately doubled over to protect her most sensitive areas. “Come on, admit it,” Rhea said, reaching in again.

“Okay, okay,” Sydney giggled, straightening up. “Maybe once, from a distance, I might have thought—”

“And something tells me that you'd have no problem seeing it from a distance,” Carmen cut her off with another perverted innuendo. “But the real question is, what would you do with it if you got up close?”

Sydney gasped and immediately looked around to see if anyone was listening to the X-rated conversation. Seated in the coveted bleacher seats directly behind the cheerleading squad, Sydney and her girls were in a prime location to see everything happening as well as to be seen by others. Just the way Sydney liked it.

“Shoot, I'll tell you what I would do,” Rhea continued devilishly, rubbing her hands together.

“Yeah, okay, you tell me and I'll be sure to tell Tim.” Sydney easily flipped the script on her homegirl. “‘Cause I'm not sure that will go over real well with your Mr. Starting Shortstop.”

“Whatever,” Rhea pouted. “Tim Collins is so not my man.”

“That's not what the YRT photos of the two of you at the Gala were saying,” Carmen countered with a sly grin as she moved her pumpkin-colored Chloe bag up onto the bench from between her feet.

“Damn that Web site,” Rhea grumbled good-naturedly. “They stay putting folks on blast!”

“Just the scandalous ones,” Carmen mused knowingly.

“All I can say is, welcome to the club,” Sydney offered with a sympathetic grin. Since the breakup, Sydney could depend on an unflattering mention on the regularly updated site at least once every other day.

“I hear ya,” Rhea said just as Coach Wiggins wrapped up the rally with the opening bars of the Brookhaven school song. Within moments, the entire room was singing along at the top of their lungs. As soon as the song ended, the students rushed down to center court to pile on top of the school mascot and help pump up the team for Monday night's game.

Opting to wait for the rush to die down, the girls sat back down. “Gotta say,” Carmen mused as she reapplied her sparkly Lancôme Juicy Tube lip gloss, “I love the fact that we get a half day off because of the pep rally for a losing team.”

“Good point,” Rhea agreed, running her fingers through the new layers in her hair. “God bless football.”

Sydney snorted playfully as she continued to watch the slowly thinning crowd from their perch. On the opposite side of the gym, she spotted Marcus and his boys sitting at the top of the bleachers looking very self-important as they sneered down at the excited crowd on the floor. Sydney shook her head as his favorite phrase, “Pep rallies and athletics events are entertainment for the simpleminded,” ran through her
head. Ironically, his hypocritical ass never missed one. On the edge of all the commotion, Jason stood laughing and talking to his co-captain, Andre Brown. Even from a distance, it was obvious how well he filled out his entire uniform. Having both boys in one place at the same time started to make Sydney feel claustrophobic. She took a deep breath to settle her nerves. “You ladies ready?” she asked as the crowd finally dispersed enough for them to make their way to the exit. Sydney really wanted to get out of the gym before the dance squad returned to the nearby bench to pick up their things.

“And willing,” Carmen replied, picking up her bag.

“Is it too early for South City Kitchen?” Rhea questioned as she tucked her crisp white shirt into the high-waisted top of her Marc Jacobs jeans.

“Yes, greedy,” Sydney replied sweetly. “It's only one o'clock. Can we please try to have something a little healthier for lunch?”

“What are you saying, Syd? I thought greasy fried chicken was good for me,” Carmen said teasingly as she stood up and carefully stepped down to the gym floor. “Or is that only when it comes with a plate from the Waffle House?”

Sydney shook her head. “Note to self: Must get Carmen on a comedy tour immediately,” she chuckled, bending over to pick up her pom-poms and simultaneously causing her oversized YSL bag to swing around and smack the person standing below in the head.

“Ouch,” Dara yelped loudly, drawing the attention of her approaching fellow squad members.

“Oh, I'm so, so—” Sydney reflexively began to apologize before realizing who she'd actually hit.

“You
need
to pay more attention to the people around you,” Dara snapped dramatically.

“Whatever, Dara, you know that was an accident,” Carmen replied as Sydney searched for a way to get down from her seat without stepping into the middle of the half-circle of girls ogling for a view.

“I mean, you and I both already know what sleeping on the job with Marcus got you,” she grinned evilly at Sydney. “Then again, maybe I should thank you for that one, huh, Syd?”

Noticeably stunned, Sydney's bottom jaw dropped open. “Do you have
no
shame?” she asked incredulously at Dara's thinly veiled implication. She instinctively looked across the room at Marcus, who was oblivious to the escalating drama.

“Like, seriously, do we all need to know you're such a dry-mouthed slut,” Rhea questioned under her breath.

A low gasp escaped the crowd of wide-eyed dancers, who stood frozen in place.

Dara flipped Rhea the middle finger. Making a point to obviously glance over at Marcus, she continued addressing Sydney. “Hmm, well that's not what our boy said last—”

“Um, just what in the hell is going on here?” Lauren
demanded sharply as she pushed her way through the ring of ponytailed zombies. At the sight of her sister's ashen face and Dara's contemptuous smirk, she stepped between the two and turned to face her squad. “This ain't any damn carnival sideshow! Get your crap and hit the track. Practice starts in five minutes,” she snapped. “So unless you cows want to run laps from now until the game on Monday, you better get moving!” Within seconds, the girls grabbed their duffel bags and disappeared.

Once they were all gone, Lauren faced Dara. “Um, is there a problem?”

“Nope. I said what I had to say,” Dara gloated as she grabbed her stuff and headed out the door behind the rest of the squad.

Lauren rolled her eyes at Dara's retreating back before turning back to face Sydney. “Hey, I don't know what just happened, but—”

“Save it,” Sydney coldly cut Lauren off. She stepped onto the floor beside Carmen and waited for Rhea to hop down, too.

“Huh? What did I do?” Lauren questioned defensively. “I don't even know what just happened between you two.”

“Yes, the hell you do,” Sydney spat back contemptuously. “Shoot, if I can recall correctly, you knew a long time before I did. So please don't bother trying to do something about it now, all after the fact.”

“Let it go, Sydney,” Carmen said softly to her friend. “It's not worth it.”

“No kidding, Carmen,” Lauren snipped. “‘Cause if this is what I get for trying to have her back, let me just mind my damn business.” And with that, Lauren grabbed her duffel and stomped away.

I cannot believe that sloppy-ass hooker just tried me like that,
Sydney thought as she sat in the front seat of Carmen's Freelander, fuming. Counting backward from ten, she exhaled loudly and turned to the backseat, where Rhea sat looking just as annoyed. “So on a scale of one to ten, how bad was that?”

“Definitely a ten,” Rhea groaned as she slipped on her pink Chanel sunglasses.

“The best part,” Sydney started to say as she turned around to dig her phone out of her bag, “is that, not even two days ago, Marcus was all up in my face talking about how much he missed me and wanted to get back together!”

“What?” Carmen exclaimed as she abruptly stopped backing the truck out of the parking spot and looked at Sydney like she had three heads. “And there that idiot was, all loud and proud about being with him last night!”

“Yes, ma'am,” Sydney replied.

“She's crazy and he's pathetic,” Rhea mumbled glaring out the window in the direction of the track.

“Negroes K-I-L-L me,” Carmen said with a shake of her head as she resumed driving.

“Mmm-hmm,” Sydney chimed as she finally found the slim iPhone tucked between two spiral notebooks. “But I got something for the both of them.”

“What you talking about, Syd?” Rhea questioned, leaning forward between the two front seats.

“You'll see,” Sydney murmured as she tapped away. Moments later she triumphantly pulled Jason Danden's contact information up and showed it to the girls.

“Oh, shoot,” Carmen hooted as they pulled up to a light.

“You weren't playing when you said you had something!” Rhea exclaimed. “That boy is straight smoking.”

“I can't believe I've had this number for two months and never once used it,” Sydney confessed, somewhat embarrassed at her naiveté. “But you know what? It's a new ball-game now.”

“Can the church get an ‘Amen'?” Rhea called out, throwing her hands up like she was in the middle of a Sunday revival.

“I can't wait to see the look on Marcus's face when he sees you and Jason boo'd up all over the place,” Carmen snickered. “He is so not ready for the upgrade.”

“Please, the entire school is going to be looking at him like, ‘You let Sydney Duke go for that chick?'” Rhea added with glee.

Sydney's iPhone rang out—it was a text from Lauren. Sydney sucked her teeth, rolled her eyes, and huffed. “I swear, my sister is going to be the death of me,” she said out loud, punching the
READ
button to see what she wanted. Don't pay Dara any mind, she's an ass. I hate her and Marcus. Will handle. Sydney just shook her head.

“What's wrong?” Rhea inquired.

“Lauren. Trying to make nice,” Sydney practically snarled.

“Ugh. So happy to be an only child,” Carmen chuckled.

“Whatever—so not wasting another breath on that bull. Got bigger fish to fry. You guys can call me and Jason Barbie and Ken 2.0,” Sydney joked as she pushed the
CALL
button and signaled to her friends to quiet down when it finally connected. After five rings, Jason's voice mail picked up. Channeling all things sexy into her voice, Sydney left a message: “Hey, Jason, it's Syd. Just thought I'd give you a call to see what you were doing after practice tonight. I know you've got the big game coming up on Monday night, but I was hoping we could hang for a little while…You let me know.” Sydney turned to her friends expectantly once she disconnected the call.

“You better work,” Carmen hooted as she hopped around in her seat.

“Thank you, thank you very much,” Sydney accepted her friend's praise with a satisfied smile.

“Well, if you ask me, an emergency trip to Gucci and the spa are in order,” Rhea announced from the backseat. Already on her cell, she booked a four o'clock body treatment, massage, and mani/pedi at Spa Sydell for three. “You've got to step correct with the first impression.”

“And let us not forget to stop by Neiman,” Carmen said, adding her two cents. “Every new relationship deserves a fresh set of panties and bras.”

“True indeed, true indeed,” Sydney nodded in agreement, hoping the sexy lingerie boutique had something in purple. After all, Jason did say the color looked hot on her.

Shortly after seven o'clock, the freshly rubbed, scrubbed, painted, and waxed Sydney emerged from Sydell looking extremely unhappy. “So what do you guys think,” Sydney sighed looking down at the “0 missed calls” message displayed on her phone. “Should I just call him again?”

“Hmm, I don't know, Syd,” Carmen said, waving her Limo-scene pink nails gently as they waited for the attendant to pull up with her truck.

“I mean, he can't really still be at practice, can he?” she asked in disbelief.