Fabulous (10 page)

Click.

Starr hung up the phone before her fingers flew across the keyboard. She hit Enter with a flourish.

STARRLESTER: Headed to the mall because I need some serious retail therapy. Gucci here I come. 4Real.

Marisol
September 24 @ 4:50 p.m. | Mood: Disappointed

Marisol
never ever thought she would see the day that she hated her father’s wealth and celebrity, but she was completely there now. In the days since the screening the atmosphere around their sprawling estate was awful.

Marisol’s eyes were always looking up to God, praying that her family would make it through this.

Her mother’s eyes were always red and puffy.

Her father’s eyes were constantly looking anywhere but at his wife or his children.

Marisol hated it!

And she hated their money for drawing women to her father. She wanted so badly to pack up all her pretty designer things and give them away or throw them away.

“All of these women only want you for your name and
your money. You think if you had nothing all those women would throw themselves at you. You risk your family for that, Alex? I loved you when you had nothing.”

And Marisol wished they had nothing because all the pretty things in the world meant nothing if her mother was hurting.

Marisol was rebelling against the fabulous life. She’d declared a moratorium on materialism. She just wasn’t in the mood for it when it was the reason for her parents’ drama.

Sighing, she left her bedroom suite and went to look for her mother. She found her on one of the balconies off the living room. Marisol forced herself to ignore the incredible view outside the French doors of their house.

Yasmine Rivera, glamorous in a DKNY burnt-orange cashmere sweaterdress and leather boots, looked over her shoulder and smiled softly at the sight of her daughter. Everything about her mom was perfect: the seemingly casual way she wore her hair, the makeup and the jewelry. It evoked an image of beauty and class.

“Come.” Yasmine held her jeweled hand out while beckoning Marisol toward her with a nod.

Marisol came forward and slid her hand into her mother’s as the quiet background of their beautifully landscaped estate surrounded them. Her mother slid her arms around her shoulders and hugged her close to her side. Marisol felt so many regrets. Mostly she wished that
she had never eavesdropped on her parents’ conversation. She got a glimpse into a part of their lives that she
never
wanted to see.

Dionne
September 25 @ 3:20 p.m. | Mood: Deceitful

Pace
Academy definitely had a more laid-back atmosphere than any school she had ever attended before. It was so crazy to Dionne that the campus had fewer students than Westside but more land, more buildings, more everything. If she was honest with herself, it didn’t seem fair at all.

Pulling her Louis V satchel higher up on her shoulder, Dionne shoved her hands into the hidden side pockets of her blazer as she made her way from the arts building to the main hall.

“Hey, Dionne, wait up.”

She stopped and looked over her shoulder, her ponytail doing a semicircle around her head. She smiled at Reggie running to catch up with her. “What’s up, Reggie?”

“You,” he said as he came to a stop in front of her.

Dionne became a ball of nerves. She knew nothing at all about boys. Everything with Hassan just came naturally.

“I thought I could call you sometime,” he said, not quite looking her in the eye as he shifted his hands from the straps of his book bag into the pocket of his gray pants.

Dionne pulled her side ponytail forward with her hand as she tilted her head to the side and smiled up at him. Reggie was her height with a dimpled grin and caramel skin with a light sprinkle of freckles across his nose. “Okay,” was her simple reply before she turned and walked away.

“But what’s your number?” he called after her.

Dionne turned again and walked backward. “That’s for me to know and you to find out…if you want it bad enough.”

He licked his lips and smiled as he shook his head just as Dionne turned and walked up the stone path leading to the main hall. As she made her way through the students at their lockers and on their way outside to their cars, Dionne remembered when things were simpler.

Hassan had walked up to her and flipped his phone open with his thumb poised and ready to get at the numbers. “What’s your number?”

And she’d given up the digits just…like…that.

“Dionne, we’re headed to Cooley’s,” Starr said, double-checking her appearance in the small mirror hanging from the door of her locker.

Dionne’s eyes shifted to Marisol standing across the
hall at her own locker. “Mari, you going, too?” she asked, taking her Sidekick out to quickly text her mom.

DIVADIDI: MA, CAN I GO TO THE ICE CREAM SHOP W/MARI AND STARR?

“I guess.” Marisol just shrugged before she closed her locker and leaned against it.

Dionne watched several freshman boys walk by her and Marisol, turning to look over their shoulders at Mari.
They were probably wondering the same thing I am. Where is Marisol, the real Marisol? The flashy Marisol? The Marisol we’re all used to.

Ding.

DIDISMOM: CALLED THE DRIVER. BE HOME BY 6 PM. SHARP DIONNE. LUV U.

Just as sure as Dionne knew her name she knew her mom was going to call her driver first. Dionne smiled. She was just glad her mama was in a good mood or whatever.

Starr eyed Dionne slipping her Sidekick inside her book satchel before she opened her locker. “Your mom said it was cool?” she asked.

Dionne shrugged, slightly embarrassed that she had to ask when Starr and Marisol did not.

Starr eyed Dionne as she touched up her lip gloss. “When are we going to meet your mom, Dionne?” she asked, pressing her lips together as she screwed the cap
back on the tube of clear gloss with tiny gold flecks.
Glitzy indeed.

Dionne felt like she just received a punch to the gut. “She’s always so busy,” she said, the excuse sounding lame even to her own ears.

Starr reached inside her locker for her new python-and-suede Gucci shoulder bag. “It’s your turn to have a sleepover, you know…and not at your dad’s all the time.”

Dionne’s stomach did somersaults after
that
one.

That old elementary school song came floating to her in a mocking childlike voice:

I was walking down the hall, when I felt something fall…diarrhea, diarrhea.

It fell down my leg like two scrambled eggs…diarrhea, diarrhea.

Dionne literally shook her head. “My dad’s gonna buy us a bigger house—an even bigger house—and she’s busy house-hunting right now,” she lied. It was becoming easier and easier to lie with time and practice.

Marisol closed her locker, her book bag hanging from her shoulder. “Bigger house. Bigger troubles. Trust me.”

Starr just sighed at Marisol’s little bit of advice. “Really, Marisol, you are falling off.”

Marisol looked at Starr. “So our friendship is based on what I wear?” she asked, snapping back.

Starr looked incredulous. “And that’s new to you because…”

Uh-oh.
Dionne stepped in between them. “Why are y’all trippin’?” she asked.

Marisol’s full lips twitched. “I wouldn’t want to embarrass you so I’ll pass on the ice cream.”

“Drama queen,” Starr drawled before she slammed her locker.

“…
And
your stupid Fashionista Fool Fifteen party!” Marisol added over her shoulder before she walked down the hall and out the building like her pants were on fire.

“Marisol!” Dionne called after her, her voice echoing down the hallway.

“Jealousy doesn’t look any better on you than the natural look,” Starr flung back.

“Starr!” Dionne gasped, whirling to face her.

“What?” Starr asked innocently, looking completely unconcerned. She sucked her teeth and waved her hand dismissively. “Marisol will be fine. Like she’s really gonna miss my party. Whateva. Let’s go to Cooley’s.”

Dionne frowned. “Are you sure?”

Starr walked down the hall with her head held high like she was on a runway, leaving Dionne to follow.

Cooley’s was
the
hangout spot for Pace Academy students. Besides great food—the
best
Reuben sandwiches—the atmosphere was made for teens, especially since the entire building was in the shape of a huge ice cream cone. The very sight of Cooley’s made Dionne want to climb the cone and lick the swirl. The mood continued inside with its nearly all-white decor and music playing just loud enough to make it interesting.

Different cliques were gathered all over the restaurant, but everyone looked up and waved as Starr strolled inside. The girls slid into a cushy booth right by the door. “I wish Marisol was here,” Dionne admitted as she scanned the menu.

“Well everyone else
is
here,” Starr said, nudging the toe of her Gucci pumps against Dionne’s red Vuitton loafer under the table as the front door opened. Jordan and the rest of his friends walked in.

Dionne watched Starr’s eyes as they locked on Jordan and his crew as they all gathered at the tables in the center of the round-shaped restaurant.

Ding.

Dionne picked her Sidekick up from the white Formica table.

BIG REG: I wanted it and I got it.

Dionne looked up and found Reggie’s eyes on her. He winked at her.

Starr grabbed the phone and read the text. “Do I smell
L-O-V-E
in the air?” she teased.

Dionne ignored her as she grabbed her phone back and worked her thumbs across the keyboard.

DIVADIDI: KEEP IT G-RATED PLZ.

Their waitress came rolling over to them on her skates. Dionne ordered a Reuben with extra crispy fries. Starr ordered a banana split.

Jordan and Reggie arrived at their table before the food did.

“Hello, boys,” Starr said, looking up at them with a big smile.

“Whassup?” Dionne added, feeling—like always—that she was in Starr’s shadow.

The fellas eased down onto the booths.

Jordan slid next to Starr.

Reggie claimed the seat next to Dionne.

She fought the urge to move away from Reggie as his arm and thigh pressed against hers. And when he pressed a little closer she
didn’t
fight the urge and scooted over to put precious inches in between them.
Good God!

As everyone laughed and joked, Dionne fought hard to keep a smile on her face even as she thought,
I’d rather be with Hassan. 4Real.

Ask and you shall receive.

Dionne grabbed her book bag and iPod from the rear seat of the car as her driver pulled to a stop in front of her apartment building. “Thanks,” she said, her eyes locked on the sight of Hassan sitting on her front porch. “See you in the morning.”

She walked up to him as the car pulled off, thinking he looked so cute in the colorful Coogi hoodie he wore with stiff jeans and black Uptowns. Her heart beat like crazy…just like always. “Hey, you,” she greeted him with a smile.

Hassan turned and he smiled at her. It was a smile that expressed how happy he was to see her. “Only you could
make that ugly uniform look fly,” he told her with a laugh as he cupped his fist to his mouth.

Dionne playfully swatted his arm. “This is right off the Paris runways,” she joked.

“Oh, okay. My bad. I respect your swagger, Ma.”

Dionne sat down on the step next to him. It was so much easier to ignore Hassan by phone. In person she just loved being near him. She couldn’t understand the who, what, when, where and why of it all. All she knew was what she felt—and being near Hassan made her feel good.

“There’s a big welcome-back party at school,” he said, turning his head to gaze at her. “I wanted you to go with me…if your mom will let you.”

Yes!
Her heart screamed.

No!
Her mind battled.

“When is it?” she asked.

“Next Friday.”

Starr’s slumber party was the same night. Her face instantly filled with regret. “One of my friends from Pace is having a huge slumber party. Her dad’s Cole Lester.”

Hassan nodded as he shrugged his thin shoulders. “I guess you don’t want to miss a party at Cole Lester’s to go to a dumb party at Westside with me?”

His voice was an odd mix of sarcasm tinged with hope.

Dionne felt bad for letting him down, for ignoring his calls, for ignoring her heart. “Let’s go to the movies,” she suggested.

He smiled. “When, Saturday?”

“Well, her parents are throwing her a huge Fierce and Fabulous Fashionista Fifteen party,” she told him, grabbing his wrist. “It’s going to be just like all those parties on
My Super Sweet 16.
There’ll be celebrities. A mad bunch of artists. Top-of-the-line everything.”

She ran through all the details of Starr’s party, including the invite party that was better than any party she’d ever been to. “I can’t wait,” she said excitedly.

Hassan’s eyes got excited. “Wow, can I go?” he asked, only halfway sounding like he was joking.

Introduce Hassan to her fabulous life at Pace? No way. No how. He could blow everything…unless she admitted to him that she was faking like a Fouis Vuitton. And that was a big no.

“It’s invite only. I’m sorry,” she told him.

“That’s cool.” Hassan stood up and shoved his hands into the front pockets of his low-slung jeans.

Dionne looked up at him, wondering if he could see her heart pounding through her chest.

“Life is so different for you,” he said, tilting his head to the side as he looked at her. “A lot of firsts that you’ll never forget.”

Dionne shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.”

Hassan took his hands from his pockets and reached down to grab her hands to pull Dionne to her feet in front of him. “I know some of those preppy rich boys be hollerin’ at you.”

Dionne thought of Reggie.

Hassan lowered his head to Dionne. “You kissed any
of them yet?” he asked her softly, his words breezing across her lips.

Dionne shook her head as she looked up into Hassan’s dark eyes just as the skies darkened with the approaching night.

Hassan pressed his soft lips to hers as his hands squeezed hers in the foot of space between them.

Her first kiss! Her first kiss!

Dionne completely forgot Reggie.

She let her eyes drift closed, counting the seconds so that she could put all the details in her journal.

When he stepped back from her, her eyes were still closed and her mouth was still puckered up like a fish.

Hassan laughed at her before he gave her hands one more squeeze. “A girl never forgets her first kiss,” he said.

Dionne opened one eye just in time to see Hassan walking up the street and disappearing around a corner.

She released the breath she was holding as she touched her fingers to her tingling lips. She would never ever forget it.