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Authors: Nikki Carter

Time to Shine (16 page)

BOOK: Time to Shine
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17
W
e find Piper sitting on the floor outside our room. Her knees are pulled up to her chest and she's hugging them tightly. I don't see tears in her eyes, but her face is red with anger.
“Piper, you okay?” Gia asks.
She shakes her head. “No. I am not okay.”
Gia and I sit down on either side of Piper. Gia puts her arm around Piper's shoulders and I take her hand in mine.
“I'm madder at Meagan than him. You expect boys to be play games, but not your sister.”
“Was she really your sister though?” Gia asks. “It seems like you two never really hit it off that well.”
“We were getting closer, though. At least I thought that we were.” Now the tears come from Piper. “We were swapping boyfriend stories every night.”
“Dang, that's messed up y'all were talking about the same dude,” I say. “Like it wasn't sounding familiar at all?”
Piper nodded. “Some things
did
sound similar, like how we used to always get back-to-back text messages. But I knew that my boyfriend's name wasn't Linden.”
Gia stretches her legs out in front of her and says, “I know he said that he didn't know y'all were roommates, but why would he give y'all different names? It just seems strange.”
“I think he was just being a player type,” Piper says. “I can't imagine someone being that mean on purpose.”
I don't have anything positive to say on that subject, so I keep my comments to myself. I do, indeed, think that boys can be that mean on purpose. Sometimes they feel bad afterward, but they definitely are some of the most selfish beings on the planet.
“So what are you gonna do, I mean about the roommate situation?” I ask, changing the subject from Linden James's chicanery.
Piper sighs. “I guess I'm going to get a new roommate, but I don't want that! What if the new person is messy?”
“What if she smells bad?” Gia asks.
“What if she snores and farts in her sleep?” I can barely get my question out without giggling.
Piper pinches both of us. “You two are not kind. If I get a roommate like that I'm going to move in with y'all.”
“It's like you already live with us anyway,” I say. “You're at our dorm every day and you eat all of the food in my mini-refrigerator. Speaking of which, did you eat my macaroni and cheese? I was looking forward to smashing that.”
“Um, no! I don't like your noodles and lard. I would never eat that,” Piper says.
Gia raises one finger in the air. “I'm sorry. That was me. I was hungry, and my pizza was nasty.”
“Greedy is your middle name. Gia Greedy Stokes. That's your name,” I say.
“Hold up, hold up, hold up,” Piper says. “I remember Sunday said she was moving us into an apartment next year. Do we have to wait? Can't we move off campus now?”
I shrug. “I guess so. I haven't been condo shopping, though. I've been putting it off.”
“We need somewhere with a pool,” Gia says. “And a game room. And an office.”
“All that?” I ask.
“And a Jacuzzi?” Piper asks.
“You two are out of control, but it might be fun to go house shopping. I've hardly spent any of my money.”
“Are you serious?” Gia asks. “Well, why don't we go to the mall?”
“I'm broke, so shopping won't be much fun for me,” Piper says.
“Well, I'm between blessings myself, but we gotta do something other than sit around here,” Gia says.
“Between blessings?” Piper asks. “That's church speak for . . . ?”
“Broke. It is church speak for broke,” I say with a laugh. “Let's go. I'll buy y'all an outfit.”
Just as we start down the stairs, DeShawn and Kevin are coming up.
“Sunday! You haven't been checking your texts,” Kevin says in an irritated tone.
Okay, he is definitely on one hundred right now, and I need him to bring it on down to at least two.
“Kevin, what are you tripping on?” I ask.
“Did you forget that you have a photo shoot for
Vibe
magazine with the entire Reign Records crew? It starts in two hours, but you have to get down to the aquarium for hair and makeup.”
“The aquarium? Is the entire Reign Records crew gonna be there or just the artists?”
Kevin scrolls through his messages. “Um . . . Evan, Big D, and Sam are going to be there too.”
Shoot, shoot, shoot. I do not want to go anywhere near the aquarium with Sam. That is the place where we had our first date, and our first kiss. That will bring up too many hurtful memories.
“I guess we're going to have to postpone our shopping trip, y'all. I've got to go to work.”
“Are you ready to go?” DeShawn asks.
“Yes, but why are you going? Kevin is my assistant.”
DeShawn gives me an annoyed pout. “I'm your bodyguard, or did you forget about the guy that tried to take you out at House of Blues?”
“I didn't forget about him. Come on then.”
My decision to let DeShawn come with me to the photo shoot has more to do with me being uncomfortable around Sam at the aquarium than the fear of any overzealous aspiring artists. I hope that if Sam sees me come in with DeShawn then maybe he'll assume we're together and not try to push up on me.
 
When I walk into the aquarium with my “entourage” everyone else is already here.
Dilly runs up to me and gives me a bear hug. “What's going on, stranger? You haven't called a brotha or nothing!”
“I've been super busy, Dilly-Dill.”
“I know, but I still miss you.”
Bethany waves at me, but it doesn't look enthusiastic or friendly. In fact, her facial expression is totally blank even though there's a small smile on her lips. She looks like she's in a trance.
“She just took a Xanax,” Dilly says. “She said photo shoots stress her out.”
“A Xanax? Who gave it to her?” I don't know why I think Evan is her drug supplier, but I do.
“She pulled it out of her purse. It was in a prescription bottle.”
“Hmmm . . . not good.”
Dilly shrugs. “Maybe she really is stressed out.”
“Yeah, the music industry is kind of harsh,” Kevin says.
I wouldn't say that the industry is being very harsh to Bethany. Her record debuted at number one, and her video of the single she did with Dilly is in heavy rotation on MTV and BET. Her next single is the collaboration I wrote for me, Bethany, and Dreya. Evan thinks it'll be a number-one hit. She should be feeling really good right now.
“Come on,” Kevin says. “You need to go to hair and makeup.”
“I'm so mad that he is such a good assistant,” DeShawn says. “How do you know she needs to go to hair and makeup, fool?”
Kevin laughs. “She's here for a photo shoot. Duh!”
I scan the room and take in what everyone else is wearing. The theme, I'm guessing, is royalty. Everyone has on something red, purple, or white. I don't see Sam, so he must not be here yet. Anjelica, Evan's stylist from New York, is running back and forth with fabric swatches and shoes in her hands.
Anjelica runs up to me and says, “I have the perfect dress for you, sweetie! Tell the hairstylist that I said to give you a curly updo!”
I don't even have time to nod my response, before Kevin is ushering me over to the stylist's chair. This time the hairstylist is a guy. He's a total hottie with his baggy pants, fitted sweater, and Timberland boots. He's got incredible swag.
He motions toward the chair. “Sunday, I'm Ron, and I'm pleased to be doing your hair for this photo shoot. Do you know what you're wearing?”
“Not exactly, but Anjelica said that my hair should be in a curly updo.”
Ron nods. “Gotcha. You are gonna be sexy as what when I'm done. But let's get this gel catastrophe washed out of your head.”
As Ron leads me away, Kevin says, “Do you need me to do anything else?”
“No. Thanks, Kev. You're awesome.”
I follow Ron to the sink in the back of our staging area. Then, I see him. Sam is in the back of the ballroom with his arm around a girl who looks like the ultimate groupie. Her tube dress barely covers her massive breasts and thick legs. When she sees me, she smiles and turns to give me a view of her backside—also ridiculously disproportioned to her tiny waist. Sam gazes over at me and gives me a head nod.
I swallow hard to keep myself from vomiting all over the place. I thought I could handle seeing Sam with someone else, but my stomach is turning cartwheels.
“I'm sorry that this isn't exactly five star, Sunday,” Ron says. “But this is the best I could do.”
I take a seat in the tiny chair in front of the sink and reply, “Most of the time, I wash my hair in the shower, so this is okay with me.”
As I lean back in the chair and allow Ron to scrub all of the gel and dirt from my hair, I squeeze my eyes shut—not to keep out the shampoo, but to hold in the tears. I don't want anyone to see them, especially Sam and his Jessica Rabbit doll.
I knew that Sam would move on. He's a guy, and guys do that. They don't stay sad about a girl for long before moving on to the next one. But how could he say that I am his muse, and then show up here with another girl? I don't think he meant that at all. Those were only words, because he wanted to get back together with me.
Ron makes quick work of my product-filled hair and wraps it with a warm towel. “That feels good,” I say.
“I microwave them. Makes it seem a little classier for you rich folk.”
“I'm not rich. Not yet.”
Ron bites his bottom lip and looks me up and down. “Really? You sold a bunch of records. If you ever need a hairstylist to go on the road with you, let me know. I'm available.”
Somehow I don't think his “I'm available” has anything to do with styling my hair. He's looking at me like how the wolf licked his chops at Little Red Riding Hood.
“I'm not planning any tours right now, but give me your card, and I'll make sure to call you if I do.”
“That's what's up. Come on, and let me finish making you beautiful.”
“Sunday!” Sam calls from across the room. “I've got someone I want you to meet.”
I act as if I don't hear Sam and speed up my steps toward Ron's styling chair. I think Ron can tell what I'm doing, because he starts laughing.
“We don't have to hurry, Sunday. We've got another hour before we start shooting,” Ron says.
Sam catches up to us as I plop down into the chair and throw the cape over my body.
“Oh, hey, Sam,” I say nonchalantly as if I'm just now noticing him.
Sam says, “Sunday, this is my new friend Phoebe. Phoebe, this is Sunday Tolliver.”
Phoebe gives me a huge smile. “Sunday, I'm such a huge fan of yours. I would love to make you a piece of jewelry. Can I?”
“Jewelry?” I ask.
Sam says, “Pheobe makes custom jewelry out of crystals, diamonds, platinum, and gold. Look at this ring she made me.”
Sam holds out his hand to show me the diamond encrusted S on his right hand. It's big and gaudy—totally different from the style Sam
used
to have. He's gone to New York and let Zac and Evan turn him into a true hip-hop baller.
“Uh . . . this isn't really my style,” I say.
Phoebe giggles. “I wouldn't make you something like this, silly! I'd make you something tiny and feminine. How about I make you a prototype with cubic zirconium and silver? If you like it then I can do the real thing.”
“Uh, I guess that would be okay.”
“Great! I'm going to go out to the car and get my portfolio. Maybe you'll see something in there that you want.”
Phoebe runs, or jiggles out of the ballroom, capturing the attention of Ron and Sam. Ron even drops the comb on the floor. Guys are disgusting.
“Is she your new girlfriend?” I ask Sam.
He nods. “Yeah. She's really nice.”
I don't know if I expected him to lie or make up some excuse, but I did not think he'd say she was his girlfriend.
“Good for you.”
Sam lifts an eyebrow and gives me a strange look. I would add something else, but Ron is pulling a hot blow dryer through my thick hair. I can just feel my hair strands being damaged. I'm gonna start rocking wigs at these things.
BOOK: Time to Shine
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