Rumor Central (16 page)

I
watched my parents sit at the breakfast table in their usual position—my dad sipped coffee and buried his head behind the newspaper and my mom thumbed through one of her many fashion magazines. They both were fully dressed—as if they'd come to breakfast any other way.

They finally looked up and noticed me.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” my dad said.

“Hey,” I said. I walked in slowly and sat at the table. Sui appeared out of nowhere (she had a way of staying out of sight just enough to show up when needed) and set a glass full of orange juice down in front of me.

Dad was back behind the paper.

“Hi, honey,” my mom said. Then her radar must've gone off because she narrowed her eyes at me. “Are you okay?”

I so wanted to tell them about the attack yesterday. But I'd tossed and turned all night, trying to decide if I should tell them what happened. But my mom would blow a gasket and I couldn't chance her trying to make me quit my job. I knew this was getting serious though. I could no longer pretend that this was just someone from school trying to scare me. Still, my gut wouldn't let me say anything—yet.

“Yeah, Mom, I'm fine. Why you ask?” I shrugged off her question like it was the craziest thing ever.

My dad lowered his paper. “You look . . . upset,” he said. My mom smiled.

“I bet it's about Bryce,” she said.

“Eeewww, um why would I be upset about that?” I asked.

“Breakups are never easy, sweetheart,” my mother said, patting my hand. “But believe me, you'll heal.”

I hated when she tried to get all mushy and hypersensitive with me. I didn't want to talk about Bryce, not because it hurt to think about the way he had dumped me, but mostly because I didn't want my parents to know I had lied. They had no clue that it was Bryce and not me who had broken things off. I still secretly held on to my vow to make him regret that move.

But I had told my parents that I'd called it quits with him, and hoped they'd never find out it had actually been the other way around. They didn't need to know all of the details; all they needed to know was that he and I were no longer together.

“You know, sweetie, my first love was a boy named Charles Swanson. You know, the movie director?” my mother said.

I rolled my eyes. Of course, I knew. She only told me every other day. I was just surprised she was saying it in front of my dad. But he didn't seem fazed. Probably because while Charles Swanson was an award-winning director, he was also on his third very public divorce.

“Mom . . .” I said, cutting her off before she went into her speech on how my dad had stolen her away.

“Sweetheart, it's obvious Maya doesn't want to talk about her breakup,” my dad said, going back to his paper. “She's focused her priorities on more important things. Which is the smart thing to do, if I must say so myself.”

My mom paused, studying me. “You sure you're okay?” she asked me again.

“Mom, I'm good.” I frowned. “I'm, like, loving life right about now. I mean, why do you keep asking?”

“Oh, honey, it seems like something's on your mind. I'm just checking, making sure everything is okay. You have anyone interesting on your show?” Mom asked.

I was gulping down the orange juice when she asked about the show. But that was just the break I needed. I was thrilled she had changed the subject. If we talked about the show, I wouldn't have to worry about her digging too deep and pulling out of me what had happened last night, or anything else about Bryce.

“OMG! I am so hyped.” I grinned.

Instantly, my mother's eyes began to twinkle. She smiled and looked at me like an eager puppy, a cute one, but a puppy nonetheless. I put the glass of juice down and started in about the interview.

“Drake is coming to do a concert on campus and it's all everyone can talk about,” I said. “And then, I have an interview with Nicki Minaj this week!” Tamara had shared that bit of news yesterday after I'd called her just before I went to bed.

I hoped the excitement in my voice would be enough to keep her off the Bryce topic. I watched as my mother's perfect eyebrows bunched together and she tilted her head slightly.

“Nicki Minaj?” she asked.

I sighed dramatically, and rolled my eyes.

“Mom! Please. Do. Not. Tell. Me. You don't know who Nicki Minaj is,” I said, and rolled my eyes again. This time the atmosphere had changed and I was glad for the lighter mood.

My dad's newspaper collapsed and he popped his head and nose into our conversation.

“She's only the hottest female rapper around today,” my dad said and stunned me to silence.

Blank stare.

I was at a complete loss for words as he tried to
school
my mom on Nicki and her music. The craziest part was he actually sounded like he knew what he was talking about.

“Some Nicki Minaj songs are pretty good, like ‘Fly.' Some are just okay, like ‘Moment 4 Life.' But some are not so good, like ‘Super Bass,' ” my dad continued.

My mouth was on the table as he talked, like he was some kind of new-school rap historian.

“It's got a good beat, but the way Nicki dresses and acts with guys, well, I don't know that it's the example I want you following. She curses in almost all of her songs. I think that's why you see so many teenagers cursing all the time—it's what their favorite celebrities do.” He shrugged.

Both my mom and I were stunned. When she finally found her voice, she asked dad. “Uh, and how exactly do
you
know so much about this hot female rapper?”

“Well, when you have a teenage daughter, you make it your business to know these things,” my dad said. He smiled in my direction, but I was still in a state of shock.

Clearly I had been underestimating him. If you would've told me that my dad not only knew who Nicki Minaj was, but could also rate her songs, I would've called you a bold-faced liar! My dad had no way of knowing how many cool points he had earned with me this morning.

“Besides, Nicki is a client.” He smiled.

“Of course,” my mother said, seemingly relieved that my dad wasn't leading some kind of secret double life.

My mom turned her attention back to me. “So, she's coming on the show then?”

“Yep, and she's gonna talk about her new album and movie role.” I left off the part about her sharing her dirt about the beef with her manager. No need for the crazy looks from my dad.

“Yep. I'm supposed to go backstage and interview her, so everyone is stoked about it. It's all
everyone
is talking about,” I said.

“This sounds so exciting. Do you know what you're gonna talk to her about?” my mom asked.

Even if she didn't mean it, I was glad she was trying.

“Well, I already know just about everything there is to know about her. I mean, I do do my homework, Mom.”

By now, my dad had turned his attention back to his newspaper and I felt a bit better.

“I know you do, honey. I know you take your job seriously and I'm so glad that you've found something you enjoy after all of that drama surrounding that other program,” my mom said.

I hated when she went back to that mess that had gone down with
Miami Divas
. It was so obvious, even a blind person could see, that those other girls (and Bali) had no talent whatsoever. I actually liked doing a show by myself a whole lot better.

In the past, if we all didn't agree on something on the show, it would turn into a big argument and nothing would get done. But now, once I sign off on the ideas the producer and I come up with, it's smooth sailing from there. And when it came to
Rumor Central
, that's what I needed. Smooth sailing. Between Bryce and what had happened last night, I didn't need any extra drama.

I
slammed my locker shut and nearly dropped the book I had just grabbed. Bryce was standing right next to my locker. He looked me dead in the eyes and didn't even try to glance away. I wanted to vanish, but I couldn't. I wanted my skin to crawl at the sight of him, even wanted to
want
to throw up in my mouth, but none of that happened. Instead, my heart started to beat all fast, like it might leap out of my chest at any moment.

I was more than mad at myself, and my heart, for the way they had betrayed me.
We
were all supposed to hate Bryce. Like, ugh-the-sight-of-your-face-makes-my-eyes-burn
hate
, but instead, I felt the stupid goose bumps that rose up all over my skin and my stomach churned like crazy.

Butterflies?

Really?

How could I still feel like all
love at first sight
after what he had done to me?

Relief finally washed over me when his teammate, Jason ran up to us.

“Hey, bro,” Jason said, interrupting Bryce's stare-down. I don't know if he was trying to send me some kind of stupid message with his eyes, but I wasn't having it.

Jason was nowhere near as hot as Bryce, but I instantly decided he'd have to do. That was the only time Bryce finally pulled his sleazy gaze away from me. It wasn't that his eyes were no longer dreamy, but when he'd decided to hook up with Sheridan everything about Bryce had suddenly become gross and instead of being the man of my dreams, he starred in my daily nightmares.

“Jas, what's clack-a-lackin'?” Bryce said.

He made me so sick with the corniness. I used to love when he tried to be cool; of course that was all a part of what had made me think he was the love of my life. But that was back in the day. This was a new day. I knew how I could make Bryce pay.

“Jason!” I cooed. “What's up, handsome?”

He looked surprised, and I was glad. I knew Bryce was extremely jealous and I wanted desperately to make him explode.

“Umm, hey, Maya,” Jason stammered. He looked confused. I couldn't tell if he was surprised at my tone, or if he was trying to decide if he was going to break this whole ‘silent treatment' these busters were giving me at school. It didn't matter. I was just trying to get to Bryce. And I had his attention; now I just needed his heart in a vise grip, so I could squeeze tightly. “Dang, boy,” I said, admiring his biceps.

I could sense the rage that Bryce tried to hide. If Bryce was a cartoon character, smoke would have been coming from his ears right now. His eyes had always given him away. When we were together, we'd joked about how his expressions, his eyes, and his face were always a dead giveaway to what he thought.

“Whoa, what are you wearing?” I purposely leaned in and sniffed Jason's neck. I pulled back and smiled at him.

“Dial soap,” Jason replied.

“Dial?” I leaned in again. “Hmm, well it must mix really well with your body's scent, 'cause you smell real good, all manly like,” I teased.

That fool actually grinned like he'd just won a new title. When I reached up and squeezed Jason's bicep again, Bryce looked like he wanted to pounce. His eyes literally followed as my hand moved up Jason's arm. I prayed that would be on instant replay in Bryce's head all night. Why should I be the only one who tossed and turned at night?

“You been working out?” I asked.

“Welllll,” Jason dragged. He glanced between Bryce and me before he continued. “Coach does have me on this special workout plan, you know, since all these schools have been heavily recruiting me to come play football for them. Gotta do what I can to stay fine.”

I wanted to puke.

“Well . . . whatever you're doing, you need to keep it up. I see a huge improvement,” I said.

“Really?” The shock in Jason's voice was almost laugh-out-loud funny, but I held it together. I caught a glimpse of Bryce out the side of my eye and cheered on the inside. He was beyond furious.

“Really, Maya?” Bryce slowly said.

I allowed my eyes to roll up and down Bryce's body; then I frowned, and turned my attention back to Jason. I moved away from Bryce and was now all up in Jason's personal space.

“So, with you looking and smelling all good, I think I'm, like, really feeling you,” I said.

Jason's eyes grew so big, I thought they might pop out of their sockets. I wasn't sure whose were the biggest though, because Bryce shook his head like he was trying to adjust his ears to what he heard.

Instead of responding, Jason pointed at me, then back at his chest like a preschooler. I loved it!

“That's right,” I said.

Both of their attentions locked on me. Bryce was all up in our conversation like I was talking to him instead of Jason. He made me so sick, I wanted to ask him where my former BFF and his new bottom-barrel chick was, but I remained focused.

“I wanted to kinda ask you something, and you don't have to say yes right now. I'm sure you probably got plans already,” I began.

I dug into my Michael Kors bag and grabbed a set of tickets. I was gonna give them away during a student body rally, but I decided this was as good a time as any to start making
new
friends.

When their eyes fixed on the Nicki Minaj tickets and backstage passes, both of their mouths dropped open.

“Are those what I think they are?”

“Only if you think they are Nicki Minaj concert tickets and backstage passes,” I said.

“Ah.” Jason scratched above his eye, and shifted his weight to his left side. He suddenly seemed nervous, like he wasn't sure what to do with his hands. “Are you really giving those to me?”

“If you want them. Nicki is also having a private party.”

“Do I get to go with you?” he asked excitedly.

Bryce frowned and cleared his throat.

“What, man? You're with Sheridan now,” Jason said, like he really could understand why Bryce would have a problem.

My stomach turned flips. I guess all was fair in love and war. So, if Bryce wanted to go there, two could play that game.

“That's messed up,” Bryce mumbled.

Jason didn't seem fazed as he smiled at me. “So what time am I picking you up?”

“How about I have the limo come get you?”

“Oh, we're rollin' like that?” Jason smiled like he'd just won the lottery or something. “So, let me get them digits,” Jason said, “so I can call you before then. Matter of fact, why don't you roll to this football party with me tonight?”

I wanted to tell him to get a freakin' grammar book, but I needed to see this plan through.

Jason looked back at Bryce.“You don't mind me bringing her to our party tonight, huh? I mean, since you'll be there with your new chick, it shouldn't be a big deal.”

Our party?
Oh, I was definitely going now.

Bryce huffed in disgust, then walked off.

“Yeah, you gotta excuse him,” Jason said. “But he's probably kicking himself cuz everybody's talking about what a fool he was to let you go.”

Really?
With all the hate I was getting, I would've thought the opposite. But then again, they could front all they wanted. At the end of day, I should've known all the haters simply wished they had my life. Shoot, if I wasn't me, I'd hate me, too.

I really wasn't looking forward to hanging out with Jason, but since I wanted to make Bryce sick, I had to do what I had to do.

I rattled off my phone number and prayed that I could make it through the evening with Jason without throwing up.