Hollywood High (9 page)

Read Hollywood High Online

Authors: Ni-Ni Simone

BOOK: Hollywood High
13.26Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
“Oh him.” I shook my head. I was disgusted watching the dude London pointed to hold his right leg in the air and pump his pelvis into some hoochie's behind like a curbed dog. “His name is not Anderson,” I said. “That's Corey's friend C-Smoove. Corey is the one over there shaking his bottle of champagne and doing the white-boy dance.”
“I don't believe this,” London said.
“Me either,” I said as I watched Corey become sandwiched between two chicks. Then he took his bottle of champagne and passed it to the girl dancing in front of him. The girl took a swig and gave it back to him. Corey took a swig and then passed it to the girl behind him.
WTF!
I shook my head. Something told me to roll through there packin'!
“Oh hell nawl!” I spat, coming out of shock. I turned to London. “You see this?!”
“I don't believe Anderson.”
“Didn't I just tell you that was C-Smoove!” I said aggravated, stomping my feet. “Would you get the name right!”
London curled her lip. “What the hell is a
C-Smoove
? His name is Anderson!”
“How do you know?” I asked.
“Because that's my boyfriend.”
“Dr. Corny?
Whaaaat
?!” I screeched as my eyes popped open wide. “I would've never imagined him being your taste. You just messed me up, girl. Oh my, clutching pearls,” I sighed. “Now we gon' have to bust 'em both in the throat!”
London gave me a blank stare.
“Why are you looking at me like that? Didn't you just say that was your boyfriend?”
“Yeah.”
“Well we need to be making a move over there.” I pointed to the boys. “They're over there poppin' bottles and trickin' up on these girls. Oh hell no. We have to do something about this—”
“Rich—”
“Don't worry, London, we'll still be ladies. And if for any reason we forget our manners then we'll just show up at the Catholic church and make a confession.”
“But I'm not Catholic.”
“Me either, but that doesn't matter, they'll still see you. Now let's go get 'em!”
“Wait.” London pulled me back. “I really can't get into any more trouble, especially not tonight. If I do my black card and trust fund will be on the line.”
“So what? We're just going to let them play us?”
“They don't have to play with you.” A voice drifted over my shoulder. “But I sure want to.”
I gagged. Another gold-mouth creature stepped to us and grinned. London and I eyed this thing so hard that he practically tripped out of our way.
“Now,” London continued, as our distraction ran away. “As I was saying, we will keep it cute and keep it calm.”
“Always,” I agreed. “You know my motto: always be a lady. And that's exactly why I'm going to tap Corey on the shoulder and let him know that I will be politely busting him in the head.”
“No you will not,” London said sternly. “We will walk over there, tap them on the shoulders, tell them that the car is waiting, and they need to come on. All arguments will be saved for the ride home.”
“What?” I shrieked. “Tap them on the shoulders and talk to them? What kind of mess is that?”
“Rich, would you just try it my way? I got this.”
I hesitated. “All right,” I agreed. “Okay, we'll try it your way.”
We strutted across the club and onto the dance floor. I did my all to compose myself and remember London's plan but as this skank placed her hands on the floor and backed it up on my man in front of me, London's plan became a distant memory.
I yanked the girl out of Corey's face and wouldn't you know she shot me a nasty look. I took a step into her personal space and said, “I wish a hood-ho would.” I looked her over. “Now lose yourself!” I pointed to the girl dancing with C-Smoove a.k.a. Anderson and said, “And take that floozie with you!” The girls sucked their teeth and scurried away.
I bucked my eyes at Corey. “Umm, we won't even discuss why you had a set of walking STDs in your face. But what we will discuss is why haven't I heard from you, Corey?”
He hesitated and then he said, “I just flew in tonight.”
“And what's your excuse, Anderson?” London snapped.
Don't you know this clown C-Smoove twisted his lips and said, “I don't have an excuse, I just didn't call you.”
Freeze... What did he just say?
London gasped and for a moment I thought about chin-checking this puppy real quick, but I didn't. I turned my attention back to Corey and he continued on with his lies. “Yeah, I got back tonight. An hour ago and then I came here to chill with my boy.”
This is some straight up bull!
“Corey,” I said. “Corey, look at me, Coreeeee. Look. At. Meeeeee.” I shook my head with every word. “Now what are you lying for, Corey?”
“Lying?” He looked pissed.
“Yeah, lies. Coreeeee. 'Cause I know and you know that you may have arrived at night, but it was last night. 10:07 last night. And then you pulled into your circular driveway at 10:47. You were in bed Coreeeee by midnight. And even though you didn't come to school you were up this morning by 8:03 A.M. Then you headed to the gym. And by one o'clock you were taking a nap. An hour later you were having tea with your mother, then you had a dip in the pool, and all of this was done by 3:15 in the afternoon. And not once did my phone ring because I was receiving a call from you!”
“Rich—”
I wagged my finger. “Don't interrupt me. 'Cause you and your boy, C-Smoove, or is it Anderson, tried to play me and my girl over here, and we won't be having it. You hear me, Coreeeee?”
Corey stood quiet and I could imagine that thoughts of losing me floated through his mind and had him speechless. I knew he was set to give me an apology and for a moment I thought about not accepting it. But then I decided that two wrongs didn't make a right, so I would forgive him, this time. Especially since this whole fiasco had to be an oversight on his part. But that was cool, too, because now I knew what I needed to focus my future-husband's training on.
I looked him in his eyes and just as I cocked my neck and prepared for him to beg my pardon he chuckled and said, “You effen crazy.”
Pow!
Bang!
Bang!
Was I shot?
Did somebody just shoot me with a stun gun?
I looked over at London and she was still speechless. “Umm, Earth to London.” I waved my hand in her face. “Don't you have something to say? Cute and calm was your idea.”
London picked up her bottom lip and said, “What did you just say to me, Anderson?”
Anderson looked at London, frowned, and then took two tiny steps back as if her breath stank.
Oh he needs to be cut. I can't believe she doesn't have him in check.
Anderson carried on, “London, don't even look to get crunked over here.”
“Spell crunked, Anderson,” she snapped. “Now, as I was saying, I don't appreciate having to call you—”
“Don't call me!” Anderson spat and if looks could kill he would've murdered London with a double-barrel shotgun. “Don't call Anderson,” his words slurred. “You ain't called Anderson all week and now you wanna run up on C-Smooth. I mean C-Smoove.” He took a swig of his champagne bottle and wiped the excess from his lips.
Ill.
“Psst, please, I'm not having it,” he carried on.
“Don't try to show off!” London said.
“Show off?” Anderson took another swig. “I'm not showing off, you
know
I haven't heard from you in a damn week. I'd been calling you and what did you do? You sent me to voice mail, ‘Hello this is London, leave a message at the beep.' Beeep. Well here's the message, London. You and your psycho homegirl take your Jimmy Choos and step!”
“Yeah, beat it,” Corey said to me as he and Anderson turned away from us, grabbed two new girls, and resumed dancing.
I couldn't believe this. I could've sworn that I was supposed to die before I went to hell, yet here I stood, six-inch-stilettos deep. I looked at London and said, “I thought you had the master plan? Now had we gone along with my plan and busted them in the head, they wouldn't have been able to sing all that yang. They'd be on the floor. Bleeding.”
London blinked. And I didn't know if she was in disbelief or wanted this whole night to disappear. But whatever. I couldn't worry about that. I just knew that the night couldn't end like this. I looked at London and said, “You might wanna be at Burger King trying to have it your way, but they just played us like the dollar menu. Now what's next? Are we still going to keep it calm and keep it cute?”
“Yes.” London drank in a deep breath. “Now follow me.”
I complied and walked alongside of her as she went up behind C-Smoove and tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around, sucked his teeth, looked London over and said, “You still sweatin'—?”
Wham!
Bam!
Boom!
A slap to the right cheek followed up by socking it to the left. London reached back and slapped C-Smoove so hard that spit sprung from his mouth and he stumbled two steps back, knocking the girl behind him to the floor.
I couldn't help but smile because that was all I needed. “Excuse me, Corey.” I tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around. And as he twisted his lips to say something, I reared my hand back and took it to his gut! Corey's champagne bottle crashed to the floor and made a zigzag trail as it rolled away and he dropped like a stone.
Pow!
Code ten!
Man down!
And just as we saw security approaching, we tucked our clutches securely beneath our arms and strutted outside to where the driver waited.
London looked at me and said, “Here's my friend's number. Call him.” She handed me a shiny business card with the name Justice embossed. I ran my fingers across the name and said, “Maybe I'll call him.”
We eased into the car and as the driver pulled off leaving Club Sixty-Six Paradise in the distance, London filled two flutes with champagne, handed me one, and said, “Here's to keeping it cute.”
“Amen.” I batted my eyes and clinked her glass. “Next stop Hollywood!”
11
Heather
A week later
 
T
he sun-dyed streaks in my chestnut hair dazzled in the window's reflection as I sat in the back of my British literature class. My eyes half-mast. Shoulders slumped. And the tips of my fingernails bitten into sore and jagged pieces.
I couldn't concentrate.
I couldn't think straight.
And the last thing I wanted to hear was Mr. Hammond pour his heart into a Shakespearean soliloquy, because at this moment suicidal Romeo and Juliet couldn't do a thing for me.
I didn't need medieval literature in my life. I needed New Millennium advice on how to shake whatever had my stomach cramping. And how to stop the sweats that made me feel as if I should've worn a bikini; or quench the dry mouth that made me thirst for a gallon of water. And I needed to know how to stop this eerie voice that eased over my shoulders and whispered faintly in my ears, “You need a hit.” That's what I needed. Not this!
Ugh!
There was no way I could stay in here much longer.
I had to leave. I had to.
I'd already proven that I wasn't a junkie and could stop anytime I wanted to. So one hit to help me get my Wu-Wu back was nothing. It didn't matter that I'd been snorting Adderall—twice a day—for the last year, what mattered was that I had control over it. Adderall was like... like ... my assistant. It helped me focus. Kept my lines together. Kept the stress of dealing with Camille and fronting for the Pampered Princesses at bay. Adderall was my ride or die. We understood each other. And it wasn't about chasing that first high. It had nothing to do with me needing more and more pills to maintain. It was about being sane. Because without Adderall to maintain it was only a matter of time before I lost my mind!
“
He never wanted you . . . You were a mistake . . . I was supposed to abort you ... He never wanted you ... He knows about you . . . It's Richard ... It's Richard ...”
Shaking Camille's voice from my head I turned to the left of me and there was Rich Montgomery, sitting there.
I wondered. . . .
It's Richard....
No....
It's Richard . . .
No it couldn't be. . . .
It's Richard. . . .
I continued to stare at Rich until she looked over at me and frowned.
He already has a daughter....
I gotta get out of here.
Just as I slid my book into my backpack to bolt out of there, my phone vibrated. It was a text from my agent returning my call from this morning.
Finally.
I'd only been trying to reach her since last night.
I slung my backpack over my right shoulder and strutted out of the classroom unapologetically. And I didn't care if Mr. Hammond gawked. Given the way I felt, I would've smacked him.
My heels pumped out an angry drumbeat as I walked into the girls' lounge, quickly locked the door, and then hid in the last stall. I dialed my agent's number and screamed at the top of my lungs, “WHERE IN THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?!”
“Heather—”
“Don't Heather me, Diana! You work for me and you better remember that, so I don't expect to have to wait six minutes let alone six hours to hear back from you!”
“Heather, you called me at two o'clock this morning. I'm just seeing your text. I'm truly sorry.”
“And that you are!” Sweat poured over my brow.
“Heather,” she said, her voice making evident that she would be attempting to pacify me. “Just breathe and tell me what's wrong.”
“What's wrong? What's wrong? I have a laundry list of things that are wrong! Camille waking up every day is problem number one. Problem number two are these shallow, superficial, money-controlled chicks that I'm forced to be friends with—”
“That's for your image.”
“I don't care about my image anymore!”
Diana sighed. “Heather. Relax, please. I am working with Camille on her drinking. I am doing all that I can to get you on another show. A fresh start. A chance to showcase your true talents. All you need is to give me some time and it will all come together.”
“When?!”
“Soon, dear, soon. And by the way have you taken a pill today?”
“No!”
“Well then you need one, maybe two.”
“Don't tell me what I need.”
“I just want you to be stress-free. And let me worry about your next move. And as far as the Pampered Princesses, just act as if they're family and all will be well.”
Click.
I hung up on her! I simply couldn't take it anymore.
You need a hit....
“Shut up!” I kicked the locked door. I could feel water building in the back of my mouth and my stomach bubbling all over again.
Just one hit...
That's it...
Screw it. I sat down on the closed lid of the toilet and opened my bag. Then I quickly closed it.
My goal was seven days—pill-free.
I had two more to go and then I wouldn't have a doubt that I wasn't a junkie.
I stood up, unlocked the stall, and quickly walked toward the door. I unlocked the door and as I placed one foot on the other side I quickly pulled it back in, closed the door, and leaned against the back of it.
One hit. That's it.
I ran back into the last stall, locked it, and laid a dollar bill on the lid of the toilet. I placed two Black Beauties in it, wrapped the bill around it, and pounded the dollar bill with my fist. Two seconds later I opened it and snorted a breath of fresh air.
I lay back on the toilet and just as the golden gates of Heaven opened up and welcomed me in, the rushing sounds of footsteps bolted into the bathroom.
Didn't I lock the door
?
My heart thundered as I climbed into a tight and still fetal position on top of the cold toilet lid. It was a good thing I was 5'2” or this would definitely be a problem.
Two sets of feet walked back and forth: one dressed in pink ostrich six-inch heels and the other in Marc Jacobs sneakers.
“Wait! Wait!” said a female voice belonging to a set of the unwelcome footsteps. “We have to make sure there's no one else in here.”
Who is that? Is that... no that's not...
“Come on, baby,” a familiar male voice said. “It's nobody in here. You don't have to check in every stall.”
“But Corey, we have to make sure the Coast Guard is clear.”
Corey? Rich's boyfriend, Corey?
“It's all good, baby. Trust me.”
OMG, that is Corey!
“Are you sure?” the female voice whined and all I could think was,
I know for sure that ain't Rich. And I know that can't be Spencer....
“Come over here and let me show you how sure I am,” Corey growled.
It took everything in me not to squeal in laughter.
After a moment of silence the couple was going hot and heavy, panting and kissing. I knew I needed to lie perfectly still but I had to confirm this creeping couple. I eased as quietly as I could off of the toilet and peeked under the door.
And... I ... almost ... died....
Straight flatlined. . . .
Look at what we have here . . . Legally blond by morning and sex kitten by lunchtime: Spencer, and Rich's boyfriend.
Damn!
I took my phone from my purse, pressed record, and happily watched Corey's belt buckle hit the floor and his jeans fall to his ankles all while Rich's good friend Spencer dropped to her knees.
Ahhh . . . payback.

Other books

The Serrano Succession by Elizabeth Moon
The Phoenix Darkness by Richard L. Sanders
The Parent Problem by Anna Wilson
Mississippi DEAD by Weaver, Shawn
Survival by Korman, Gordon
The Ultimate Merger by Delaney Diamond
Haven by Dria Andersen