“BeTheSun,” Fast Freddie says, laughing. “ThatWasClassicT-Diddy.”
“Don’t sleep. T-Diddy got plenty of tricks for these tricks,” I say, even though my fake ladykilla plan failed, and there’s nothing else up my sleeve but a thirsty ego.
“Where’s my money, dawg?” Mack says, holding out his hand.
“C’mon, son, if y’all ain’t talk that ying yang about the bet, I’da been all up in that. Fo’ sho!”
“T-Diddy, that was tight,” says Leah, a cheerleader I used to get with, from a nearby table.
“That silent protest was tight, T-Diddy. My teacher canceled our test,” another kid says, walking past me.
“Let me get some of them fries, Mack,” I say, snatching the whole bag before he can grab it.
“Dude, don’t make me jump over that table,” he says, standing up like he wants some of this. “Gimme my joints back.”
“Why you wildin’ out like them Bayside boys?” I hand him back the bag of fries, now half empty. He’s scowling like I stole his wallet or something.
“Why you shooting daggers, Mack? I’ll get you some more fries. Dayum!”
“For real, son. I saw two of them Bayside boys at the mall last night. They was muggin’ me hard. Watch out for them jokers, T.”
I ain’t scared of them fools. Believe that! I steal one more fry.
“That’s foul, man.”
“MakeWayForT-Diddy’sFans,” Fast Freddie hollers.
“For real though, them jokers in my class was quiet for like the first time since birth,” Willie Mack adds. “Yo, Fred, what is B doing?” We all look in the direction that Willie Mack is pointing and see Belafonte holding up a sign that says TELL THE MAN TO SAVE THE BAND!
“ThatWoadieGotAPetitionToKeepTheMarchingBand,” Fast Freddie answers.
“Is it that deep, really?” I ask, even though apparently it is. He’s wearing his band helmet and cape and whatnot.
“HeFinallyGotDrumMajorAndNowTheyShutHimDownBeforeTheBigBattleOfTheBands,” Fast Freddie says. “He’sSoSeriousHeMightBurnThis JointDownFor Real.”
“I guess I was wrong about you. Nice job! Are we doing it again?” Blu comes up to me and asks.
“Where’s your girl? I haven’t seen her since the rally,” I say.
“Probably off saving the whales or something. You know how she does,” Blu answers. “Here, she told me to give you this.” She passes me a folded note and walks away. What are we, in third grade? Still, the anticipation owns me.
Before I can open it, a pair of soft hands covers my eyes from behind, and I wonder, no I hope, they belong to homegirl.
“Guess who, baby?”
“Who?” I ask, but when I hear those forty-eight-dollar bangles clanging, I know exactly who it is.
“It’s me, baby,” Kym says, rubbing my dome.
“What’s crackin’, Kym King?” Willie Mack says.
“Willie, I saw your baby sister pictures on Facebook. She’s so precious,” Kym says.
“That’s my niece. She’s cute, right?” Willie Mack pulls out his phone to show me and Fast Freddie the pic, but we just look at him like, really?
“What up, Kym,” I say, partly disappointed and partly galvanized by her superminiskirt and the water balloons she rubs against me.
“You baby, that’s what’s up. The whole school is buzzin’. I didn’t even know you was into that kind of stuff.”
“Shoulda stuck around. A lot you didn’t know,” I say.
“I’m here now. How about you let me find out tonight?”
“BongBong!” Freddie mouths. Willie Mack is still trying to show us photos.
Why not? She’s only offering what she promised me. Thing is, it’s my night to cook dinner. Last time I skipped dinner, Uncle Al made me dust the whole house.
I guess the rally did work. I’m getting what I want, even if it’s not from who I want. Oh, well, different chick, same thing. T-Diddy ain’t choosy. Claudia Clarke playing way past hard to get anyway. Got to keep it moving.
“That’s cool. We’ll celebrate your birthday early,” I say, and take her fries. She blushes, kisses my forehead, then leaves to join the other cheerleaders outside. She used to be one, till she got kicked off for beating down a cheerleader from Independence.
“T-DiddyHereComesYourOtherGirl.” I turn around, and here comes Claudia Clarke in that pair of bangin’ jeans.
“Willie Mack, let me see those pictures,” I say. When Claudia Clarke gets to our table, I put on a show. “Awwww, she’s so beautiful. A precious little thang,” I add.
“Still trying, I see,” Claudia says.
“Check out the pictures and the video of my niece,” Willie Mack says, handing his phone to Claudia. “Ambrocious.”
“OnlyInTheCountry.”
“You mean Ambrosia,” I say, hoping, for the child’s sake, he mispronounced it.
“Nope, it’s Ambrocious.” Fast Freddie almost falls out of his chair laughing. I would join him if homegirl wasn’t standing over me. “My sister’s name is Amber, and her baby daddy’s nickname is Ferocious.”
SMH!
“Aww! She’s so cute, Willie Mack,” Claudia says, handing his phone back. “That’s just sad, Omar. Trying to use your boy’s niece to impress a girl.”
“Naw, it wasn’t like that, I was—”
“Yadda yadda yadda. Look, save your energy. I’m not your type, homeboy. You’re looking for shallow water; I’m an ocean.”
“ShallowWaterWow!”
“You sure do smell good as the ocean. What’s that you’re wearing, DKNY?” I say, letting her know T-Diddy got a little class.
“Soap. You should try some,” she responds.
“You still got jokes.” As we talk, I slowly walk toward the hallway, as far away from Kym as possible. Last thing I need is for her to catch me all up in Claudia’s grill.
“Freddie, I’m collecting hair for children with cancer. Holler at me if you cut your locks,” she says, and I can’t tell whether she’s serious or not. She playfully cuts a strand of his hair with her fingers. Freddie nervously laughs. When we get into the hallway, she surprises me.
“You deserve a kiss, Omar.” Really? It was that easy. I guess it was worth listening to Uncle Al, doing my little research online, almost making myself look like a fool at the rally. It’s about to be on and popping.
“Once you feel these,” I say, licking my lips, “you’ll always be pleased.”
“Then have two.” Homegirl hands me two Hershey’s chocolate Kisses. She laughs.
“That’s cold.”
“Looks like your plan worked, Omar Smalls. Your silent treatment was a success, it appears.”
“That’s what they’re calling it: the silent treatment. That’s what’s up.”
“Any teachers say anything to you?”
“Assistant Principal Walker stopped me in the hall after second period. I just told him it was a one-time senior prank. He told me Cruella’s got her eye on me.”
“I heard a few kids in ISS were talking, though.” She stops at her locker.
“Some of the football players. I’ll handle them jokers. One monkey don’t stop the show.” I look at her to see if she picks up on the reference. When I was in Brooklyn, my mom took me to see that play. It was boring, but I thought the title was a’ight. “It’s a play, in case you was wondering.”
“Wow. Omar Smalls didn’t try to steal someone else’s words.”
“A lot you don’t know about Omar Smalls,” I say, moving her hair out of her face and behind her ear. Real playa move. I rest my hand on her shoulder. She shrugs it off. When she bends over to grab a book from the bottom of her locker, I can see her red panties. Dayum!
“So, what’s next, T-Diddy?” she asks, still down there. I know exactly what’s up.
“What’s up is I want to make you dinner. Tonight.”
“I’m talking about the protest, Omar. What’s our next step?” she asks, standing up and closing her locker. When she looks me in the eye, it’s the first time I notice her stunning blue eyes. Or are they green? It’s hard to tell in the barely lit hallway. The school board doesn’t believe in lightbulbs either. Stunning. And homegirl has the best-smelling breath ever. Like peppermint. No doubt, we are having a moment.
It’s time to pull out the big guns. None of T-Diddy’s playa rules have worked, but a good quarterback always has a fail-safe plan. Mine is food. It’s time to call an audible. Get homegirl to the crib and show her how T-Diddy gets down.
“I know what you meant, Claudia. It ain’t over, believe that. Today was just the beginning.”
“Your boy Belafonte has a plan. What’s yours?” Dayum, she’s serious about this arts funding ish. I love the band as much as everybody else, but why they sweating it so hard? It’s the school board and the governor. They’re not going to change ish because of our lame protest.
“It’s only the first move, homegirl. We got some buzz. T-Diddy is in it to win it. Trust me on this, we’re going to get all the arts funding back. Believe that.” The smile on her face is priceless. She stands up and her eyes sparkle like diamonds. Definitely green.
It is a gamble, but I see checkmate three moves ahead. This is my chance. I go after her queen. I may drown, but I’m diving anyway.
“A’ight, forget about dinner. Let’s come up with a plan tonight, my place, five thirty.” I kiss her on the forehead and walk away. Your move, homegirl. Before I walk back inside the lunchroom, I want to turn around, to see if she’s watching me. The playa’s handbook says don’t do it. But if I do and she is, then I know it’s on.
“Omar,” comes a yell from behind me. Victory!
Smiling, I happily turn around to see the principal standing not far from where Claudia was.
“We need to talk, Mr. Smalls.”