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Authors: Nikki Carter

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BOOK: Get Over It
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18
I
'm awakened by howling very close to my bedroom. When I recognize it as Piper's voice, the previous night's events rush back to my memory. First Piper's humiliation, and then Sam's declarations of love. I haven't had time to process either, because after my date with Sam, I came home and went straight to bed. Sam stayed in the guest bedroom of the studio.
I throw my legs over the bed, rush into my bathroom, brush my teeth, and splash water on my face. Then, I try to brace myself for my friend's meltdown.
When I open my bedroom, Gia is already attending to Piper, who is on the floor in a fetal position. Her entire body trembles with each howl, and Gia strokes her head in a soothing motion.
I join them on the floor, while Hope makes hot ginger tea in the kitchen. We are in full nursemaid mode, and our patient is breaking on the inside and the outside. The boys stay away, and rightfully so. This is not a scene for them. This is sister business right here.
“You're gonna make yourself sick, Piper,” I say. “You should try to breathe a little.”
“Breathe? I don't want to live! Why should I breathe?”
Gia wraps her arms around Piper and squeezes. “You definitely get to live. The Gamma Girls have to pay for what they've done to you.”
At the mention of the Gamma Girls, Piper wails. “How could they do that to me? How
could
they?”
These are questions that I need answers to as well. I make sure Gia doesn't need me to help her with Piper and then I take my cell phone outside and call Meagan. At first, I don't think she's going to answer, because the phone rings several times. Then, just as I'm about to hang up and dial again, she answers.
“Hello?”
“Meagan, how could y'all do this to Piper?”
“Y'all? I had nothing at all to do with what happened to her. I feel sorry for her.”
Something in her tone isn't sincere. There isn't the appropriate amount of emotion behind her words.
“What was put in her drink?”
“I don't know. I think I heard someone say something about crushed-up Dulcolax.”
“You
think
you heard someone say that? Or you heard the culprit?”
“If you think I'm snitching, think again. I'm not saying who said what. Gammas don't snitch on our sorors.”
They put crushed-up Dulcolax in Piper's drink? I remember having to take that once when I was constipated. I hadn't gone to the bathroom in days, but those two little pills turned my bowels to water and had me running to the toilet for hours.
They gave that to Piper, who wasn't constipated at all, and who was filling up on alcohol to make it even worse.
“Did they want her to have an accident like that? Why would they do that to her?”
“Without saying who did what, I will tell you that they just thought her stomach would bubble and that she would have to run to the bathroom. No one thought she'd be that drunk that she'd just do it right there on the dance floor.”
She shouldn't have been that drunk. We hadn't been there for very long, not even two hours. She was way too incapacitated for the few drinks she'd had.
“What else did they give her besides the laxative?”
“If they gave her anything else, I don't know what it was.”
“We're pressing charges against Gamma Phi Gamma, you know that, right?”
Meagan is silent for a long moment. “Don't expect my help with that.”
I can't take hearing her voice for another second so I disconnect without saying good-bye. It seems Meagan does know a little something about solidarity. She's just protecting the wrong group.
Just as I'm about to go back inside, a little, turquoise Honda Civic pulls up in my driveway. Sharday jumps out of the car, now wearing white and turquoise sweats and some turquoise Nikes.
“Sunday!” she yells as she runs toward the door.
“You are like the last person anyone is trying to see around here. You know that, right?”
Sharday shakes her head sadly. “I want to apologize to Piper. I think I know who's responsible and I'm going to our advisor today. We do not haze.”
This makes me burst into laughter. “First of all, this is beyond hazing. She could've been hurt. And y'all definitely do haze. Having people standing in the corner and all that. Why do girls have to be humiliated to become a Gamma Girl?”
“They don't. And I'm against all of it. Peony is the chapter president, but not for long. I'm telling on her.”
“Really? So it was Peony. I knew it was her. She's had something against Piper from jump.”
“She doesn't want to see a white girl cross.”
“Well, she didn't have to destroy her. She could've just blocked her from joining.”
“Do you think Piper would see me?” Sharday asks.
“Nah. She's not in a good place right now. Wait about a week or so.”
Sharday scratches her head as if this was not the reception she had planned. There's no way she's setting foot in my home with Piper in the state that she's in. First of all, while I don't think Sharday has anything to do with it, I can't be sure. Second of all, she's not talking about going to the police on Peony. She's talking about going to their advisor as if that is going to do anything.
“So, do you think Gia is still going to coach us for the Spring Step Show? It's in two weeks, and we're still not ready.”
My eyes narrow in anger. “Is this the reason why you're here? You're trying to save that little stupid step show routine? I need you to leave right now, Sharday.”
“I promise, that's not the only reason I'm here. It actually didn't occur to me until you said a week or so. It made me remember.”
“Mmm-hmm. Well, we've had enough turquoise and white around here, so you can ride out with the rest of your sorors. I guarantee Gia wouldn't help y'all with your step, even if y'all were doing it for President Obama.”
Sharday looks troubled, but she knows that I'm telling the truth. Gia is hardcore when it comes to values and friends. And so am I.
Sharday turns sadly and trudges back to her car. I don't have a problem with her looking distraught. Not when my friend is in a ball on the floor crying her eyes out. As a matter of fact, Sharday doesn't look distraught enough.
When I go back inside, the boys have appeared. Someone went out to the studio and got Sam, and he's cooking. Ricky and Kevin are chilling at the bar stool looking pretty uncomfortable. DeShawn is posted up against the wall with a deep frown on his face. I guess I didn't consider the whole morning thing when I let Sam spend the night in the studio.
Piper is no longer on the floor. She's sitting in one of the kitchen table chairs, but the tears have not slowed down at all.
“Who was outside?” Gia asks.
“Nobody,” I reply.
DeShawn says, “Sunday, can I borrow your car? I need to go and pick up a few things at the mall.”
“What are we gonna use if we have to go somewhere?” Hope asks.
I look in her direction and give her a little head shake. I know DeShawn just wants to get out of here and away from Sam. I don't blame him. I don't want to be in this situation either. Not with DeShawn's ultimatum hovering, and not with the memory of my date with Sam last night. I'm feeling swept away by all of Sam's attention, and poor DeShawn is just in limbo.
“Sure, DeShawn. The keys are on my dresser.”
Sam's eyes follow DeShawn from the kitchen to my bedroom. Although he's playing it cool, I know that he's only chilling because he has no choice. He can't do anything to DeShawn and have me still be happy with him.
DeShawn retrieves my keys and comes out of the bedroom. On his way out, he gives Piper a hug and kisses her forehead. His tenderness makes my heart skip a beat.
“It's not that bad, Piper,” he says. “Nobody on campus is talking about you. They're talking about
them
. They're the villains. Everyone is on your side, at least over at Georgia State.”
“All of Georgia State knows too? So, that's two college campuses I can't show my face on again,” Piper says between sobs.
I hate to tell Piper this, but I just got a text from Dreya telling me that there's a story about Piper on Straight FromTheA.com. It's a smaller blog than BlackCelebrity Gossip.com and they mainly talk about stuff that happens here in Atlanta. This wouldn't even be news if Piper wasn't my friend, and if it hadn't happened in VIP. But it did, so now it's not just the college campuses, but all of Atlanta that knows about Piper's embarrassment. Luckily, this kind of thing dies down soon. It's just another wretched thing that happened in the club.
“No one will be talking about this in a couple of weeks. After the Spring Fest week, all types of stuff will pop off,” DeShawn says. “Just wait and see. I'll see y'all later.”
DeShawn gives the guys a head nod as he leaves, although I don't think Sam was included in that. Sam grins, but doesn't say anything. I think DeShawn is giving Sam the upper hand. Maybe he sees that Sam is winning me back, and he can't do anything to stop it. Maybe he's given up. Oh, I hope that it's that easy.
“I don't know how I feel about you in my house cooking,” I say to Sam as he flips the delicious-smelling French toast that he's making.
“I know you,” Sam says. “You love to eat and I want to feed you.”
Gia and Hope make small chuckling noises under their breath. It's apparent whose side they're on. They've wanted me to pick Sam all along, even though they love DeShawn like a brother.
Sam slides a plate across the counter and I take a seat at the bar stool. I stare down at the plate in front of me with mixed emotions. On the one hand, it looks extremely yummy and my stomach growls in response to its probable yumminess. But if I eat it, have I given in? Have I accepted Sam back? Does DeShawn lose?
“Something wrong?” Sam asks. “I thought you liked French toast.”
“It's not the food I have an issue with, it's the chef.”
Gia and Hope abandon Piper at the table and step up to the kitchen counter looking like two greedy hounds at suppertime. As they slide onto bar stools on opposite sides of me, they both give Sam appreciative glances.
“Are you gonna eat that?” Gia asks me as she pulls the edge of my plate toward her.
I pop her hand. “Um, yes! Get off my food, greedy!”
“You might as well have it,” Sam says. “Sunday hasn't decided if she wants to eat a meal prepared by my hands.”
“What's wrong with your hands?” Hope asks. “You washed them, didn't you?”
Sam laughs. “Of course I did. But, they're ex-boyfriend hands.”
“Cheating ex-boyfriend hands,” Gia says as she attempts to snatch my food again.
“Ex-cheater, ex-boyfriend hands,” Sam corrects. “I did cheat, but now I'm reformed.”
Hope says, “My mom says, once a cheater always a cheater. How do we know you've changed?”
“Well, first of all, I didn't know I had to convince all of you,” Sam says. “Second of all, that's not very forgiving to say that someone can't change. I thought y'all were the church sorority over here.”
At the mention of church, Sam sets a plate in front of Kevin, and Kevin bows his head. Then he starts praying out loud. “Dear God, thank you for this food. Thank you for your forgiveness. I wouldn't be anywhere without it. And I thank you for showing me how to forgive others. Amen.”
“Really, Kev?” Ricky says. “DeShawn is our boy, man.”
Kevin gives Ricky a dismissive hand wave. “Y'all know I believe in true love, so it is what it is with these two.”
Sam gives Kevin a weird look, then says, “Is this dude for real? I mean, I shouldn't say anything because he's on my side . . . I think. But, true love? Dude, get the heck out of here.”
“Don't knock my beliefs man!” Kevin says. “And pass me some syrup. This French toast is the bomb.”
Gia says, “Sunday, yours is getting cold, so you might as well give it to me if you aren't gonna eat it.”
I pick up a fork and put a mouthful of the toast into my mouth. This is so good! I guess we can add incredible cook to the long list of things that Sam can do well.
Hope says, “Y'all know what? Kevin is right. Like if Sunday's life was a romance novel . . .”
“It's not!” I say. I so wish that someone was scripting this thing and had an outline of what was going to happen next. And if someone does, can someone please hook a sista up with a spoiler? All this angst is killing me.
“No, hear me out!” Hope continues. “If your life was a romance novel, then Sam is the hero. You know the dude at the beginning that you totally fall for, and then he does something really, really stupid.”
“Really stupid,” Gia echoes.
“If Sam is the hero, who is DeShawn?” Ricky asks.
“DeShawn is the distraction. He's the guy who sneaks in when the main guy does something dumb. But Sam is the one who's supposed to win,” Hope says.
“I have never liked romance novels,” I say. “So, I guess I don't know how it all goes. Sam doesn't get a pass just because he was first.”
“Right! The first one isn't always the best one,” Gia says.
Ricky's face contorts into a frown. “You're really ignorant, Gia.”
“What? Oh, you think I'm talking about us now? Is that what you think?” Gia says with a laugh.
“It's pretty obvious that you're talking about us,” Ricky says as he folds his arms angrily across his chest.
BOOK: Get Over It
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