On the Flip Side (19 page)

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Authors: Nikki Carter

BOOK: On the Flip Side
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W
oo-hoo! I just finished my last final in English Composition. And I know I aced it even though it was purposely hard. My professor was evil.
One semester down, seven to go until I have my undergraduate degree. Then, onto law school. But one victory at a time. First, pass my fall-semester exams.
As I cross the courtyard on my way back to my dorm, Piper runs to catch up with me. She's panting and breathing heavily when she finally catches up to me.
“If you're breathing that hard from just running across the campus, you need to work out.”
“I know, Sunday,” Piper says between breaths. “I know it was you.”
“You know what was me?”
“I know you paid my tuition.”
I poke my lips out and roll my eyes. “I don't know what you're talking about.”
“Whatever, Sunday. I see you don't want to admit it, but I'm going to thank you anyway.”
I couldn't wipe the smile off my face if I tried. “I still don't know what you're talking about, but if I did, I'd probably say you're welcome.”
Piper links arms with me and we walk back to the dorm in silence.
When we get to our room, Meagan and Gia are there, and they've got boxes of pizza and Pepsi—our favorite pig-out foods.
“It took y'all long enough to get back!” Gia says.
“Yes, it did!” Meagan says. “Now it's time to celebrate.”
“What are we celebrating?” I ask.
Gia says, “We survived our first semester of being free-thinking women.”
“Right,” Meagan says. “Our first semester of taking the world by storm.”
“Our first semester of being away from home,” Piper adds.
“Our first semester,” I say, “of sisterhood.”
We toast with glasses of Pepsi and tear into the greasy, cheesy, and chewy, gooey pizza. If anyone had a question about why I stay in school when I've already made my first million, they could find their answer here. I haven't got it all figured out yet, but I'm getting there, and my friends are helping me learn.
I'm here to learn how to make a difference in the world. And I am here to find out who I am. With every new dilemma, I feel the old Sunday slipping away like a pair of knee-highs on my legs in the middle of summertime.
And this is who I am. I am a student. I am a daughter. I am a (ridiculously talented) singer.
And I am a sister.
A READING GROUP GUIDE
ON THE FLIP SIDE
 
 
 
Nikki Carter
 
 
 
ABOUT THIS GUIDE
 
The following questions are intended to
enhance your group's reading of
ON THE FLIP SIDE
.
Discussion Questions
1.
Is Sam's story about what happened at the New York City club believable? Did you believe him?
2.
What do you think about Dreya and a rap career? Does she have what it takes to be a hip-hop diva, or should she stick to the pop star game?
3.
Is there a future for Bethany and Dilly? Should Dilly kick Bethany to the curb, or should they have a full-fledged teenage love affair? Why or why not?
4.
What's up with Mystique? Is she really down for Sunday or is she a secret hater?
5.
What do you think of Sunday's new sister-friends at Spelman? Does Gia seem like a good roommate? What about Meagan and Piper? Do you see drama in the future for these two?
6.
Who's going to snag Kevin? Piper or Meagan?
7.
Seems like Sunday's friends are sorority crazy! Do you think Piper is Gamma Phi Gamma material? Should she even pledge, or is it a train wreck in the making?
8.
Sunday. Sam. The breakup. Should they get back together or should Sunday walk away—this time for good?
Don't miss Nikki Carter's
Time to Shine
,
available now wherever books are sold!
 
 
“S
unday Tolliver! Are you on your way to Mystique and Zillionaire's wedding?”
The paparazzi catches me off guard by jumping from behind a building as I exit my parked car in front of Mt. Pleasant Baptist Church in downtown Atlanta. Really? This bird is hiding at four o'clock in the morning trying to get the scoop? I mean, who is checking for Mystique wedding details at four in the morning? And anyway this is not the location for Mystique's wedding. It's actually one of the decoy spots. I will be picked up by another car to take me to the final location.
“I'm on my way into this church,” I say.
The annoyed almost-reporter cocks her head to one side and sucks her teeth. She looks like she doesn't know whether or not to believe me. I certainly don't look like I'm going to a wedding. I'm wearing sweatpants and my hair is in a loose bun on the top of my head. But there is a full wardrobe and makeup crew at the real venue, so I don't have to worry about looking glam right now.
“You're one of her bridesmaids, aren't you?” the reporter girl asks.
I lean in closely and whisper, “I'll never tell.”
The frustrated reporter rolls her eyes again and storms off, perhaps looking for someone more willing to spill their guts about the so-called wedding of the year. I won't share the details because, as a pop star myself, I don't like my business in the streets (or on the Internet) either.
I stride away from the irritated blogger chick. She can be camped out here for the next few hours and she won't be any closer to the truth than she is now. The plan is for each member of the wedding party to be picked up by shuttle bus at four-thirty in the morning. Then we will be taken to the top-secret wedding location. The wedding party doesn't even know where it is.
I can't believe Mystique was able to pull off something this complex when she and Zac (Zillionaire) only decided to get married a few weeks ago. News of Zac's love child hit the blogs and the next thing you know those two are heading straight to the chapel to get married.
When she asked me to be the one and only bridesmaid, I was kind of shocked. It's not like we're really close or anything like that. She gave me my first record deal and basically introduced me to the world as her protégée, but something has happened in these past few months. All of a sudden she got competitive, and did a few things that could be confused as hateration.
I duck into the church and hand my car keys to a security guy standing at the door. He will be in charge of driving my car from the church to another parking area—not where the wedding will be held, but another fake location to throw off the paparazzi. Yeah, it's super cloak and dagger up in this piece.
Then I see him.
The new ex-boyfriend of mine. Sam.
Ugh.
Like can I ask a side-bar question? Why do boys have to lie all the time? Sam told me that he didn't hook up with Rielle on prom night, and that was a big, fat, gigantic lie. He says he only lied because he didn't think I'd be his girlfriend if I knew, and he's probably right. I would've soooo kept it moving. But now, I really like (almost kind of love) Sam and he's hurt me.
Maybe I would've believed that he was all done with Rielle after prom, but apparently he's still dealing with her. He even bought her a laptop! Do I care that he did it because she's poor and her grandmother heard that he got a million-plus-dollar check? Um, no. We do not do good deeds for side pieces.
And why is he smiling at me? Ugh. I can't stand him.
He's Zac's best man, for some ridiculous reason. They aren't even friends. At all. Sam is his employee. Zac and Mystique are probably trying to orchestrate a reunion or some stupidity like that. But I don't care. Not trying to hear that.
Sam crosses the church sanctuary to where I'm standing in the back. He's still smiling like an idiot. I roll my eyes.
“So, they're sending a car for us,” he says. “It should be here soon.”
I give him a tight nod and start playing with my iPhone. I make a huge production out of putting my earbuds in, so he can tell that I'm listening to my music.
I wish my girls Gia, Piper, and Meagan were here with me. They didn't rank high enough on the celebrity list to get an invite to Mystique's wedding. They're not celebrities at all—they're my friends from Spelman College. Gia is my roommate.
Mystique told me that I could invite one of them as my guest since I don't have a date, but I decided against it. The two I didn't invite would inevitably be mad at me, and I'm anti-drama right now.
So I invited DeShawn. He's a hottie who goes to Georgia State and plays on the football team with Gia's boyfriend Ricky. He also models and was in one of my music videos. He's cool, he's a friend, and he flirts with me. It doesn't matter that I am not in the boyfriend-type mood. Having DeShawn with me at the wedding will, at least, keep Sam out of my face. I hope.
The wedding guests have to park their cars at a different location, and then they'll be driven to the top-secret wedding location. Mystique has sold exclusive rights to her wedding photos to
People
magazine, so it's like imperative that nobody take any pictures—paparazzi or guests. They're even hijacking people's cell phones at the door.
It's that serious.
After a few minutes, I hear another car pull up outside the church. Sam and I are given dark jackets and baseball caps to put on, as we exit the back of the building. We look like some ghetto spies.
Once we're in the car, I notice that the driver is one of Zac's security guys. He drives us through Atlanta to a beautiful castle on Peachtree called Rhodes Hall.
“I can't believe they're getting married here. Right in the middle of everything!” I exclaim to no one in particular.
Sam replies, “This is the perfect location. No one would even suspect that they were getting married this close to downtown Atlanta.”
I narrow my eyes in Sam's direction. I was not talking to him. Okay ... so I know there are only two other people in the car besides me, and since I don't know the driver, it's pretty logical for Sam to assume that I'm talking to him.
But, since he also knows that I can't stand his guts right now, he shouldn't assume anything.
We're dropped off at the back gate of the castle, but since it's still dark outside no one can see us. Amazingly, there are no paparazzi hiding here. Maybe, it's because we took a roundabout way to get here. The church where we got picked up from is like ten minutes from the actual venue, but it took us forty minutes to get here.
When Sam and I walk into the building ... wait. I do not like “Sam and I” put together in one sentence. That is so ... ugh!
When I walk into the building (we don't care what Sam is doing), I see Mystique barking out orders like the bridezilla from the pits of Hades.
“Mother, please tell me that my veil is here. The custom-made diamond-encrusted veil that cost three million dollars to produce is here, right? Because if it's not here, someone's head is gonna roll.”
Ms. Layla, Mystique's mom, puts a hand on her daughter's back. It's a calming move, but it doesn't seem like it works.
“Honey, the veil is here. I just unpacked it. It is with Zac's security team now. Try to stay calm. You don't want to look frazzled in your wedding photos.”
“Okay, Mother ... I'm trying. I'm really trying. Where's Sunday? Is she here yet?”
“Present and accounted for,” I say from the back of the room.
Mystique flies back to greet me and embraces me with a bear hug. Who is this? I'm afraid I have not met this emotional and affectionate person masquerading as Mystique.
“Sunday, I'm so glad you're here. I can't have anything else going wrong.”
“I'm here too,” Sam says.
Mystique smiles at Sam and then says to me, “Sunday . . . can you please, please be nice to Sam today? I want you smiling in my pictures.”
I reply through clenched teeth. “I'll try.”
Mystique seems to accept my reply. I'm glad because it's the best I can do. She rushes off to fuss at the florist, who apparently has brought an incorrect flower.
“Does this look like a calla lily?” Mystique asks in a high-pitched roar.
I take a seat and wait for someone to tell me what to do. I don't want to get in Mystique's path. Not today.
I know that if I ever get married (and that is so not in the plans any time soon), I don't want it to be like this.

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