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  “Are you going to put out an entire album soon?” Piper asks.

  “Soon. We’re releasing another single first, and then I’ll go into the studio to record the album.”

  “How are you going to do all of that and go to school too?” Gia asks.

  “It’s gonna be hard, but I’ll have to juggle it. I think I can do it.”

  I take a bite of my fried chicken and chew it for a long time before I can swallow. The truth is I’m nervous about trying to have a recording career and go to college full time. I have no idea whether I can do it or not. I’ve convinced everyone: my mom, Mystique, Big D, and Epsilon Records that I’m going to be a success at being a free-thinking Spelman woman and a pop star.

  But deep down, I’m a little scared. What if I fail?

  I guess now, it’s time for me to believe my own hype.

  2

  “So, since the album is already gold and heading toward platinum, I think your next single should be a big ballad,” Mystique says as she, Big D, and I chill in her fiancé Zac’s studio.

  “I agree,” I reply. “I think it should be ‘The Highlight .’”

  “Hmm ... let me hear you sing a piece of it so I can think of a concept for the video,” Mystique says.

  I open up my mouth and belt it out a cappella. “I don’t know a lot of things/ And I haven’t been around a long time/But I don’t have to know it all/To tell you what’s been on my mind/You are ... so amazing/And if it weren’t for you, and everything you do/I wouldn’t be this happy/Loving you is the highlight of my life!

  “On that little bridge part you can do a run like this.”

  Mystique does some vocal acrobatics on the word amazing that are ... well ... amazing! I laugh out loud, because my voice is good, but Mystique’s is incredible. I won’t even attempt to copy that.

  “So you like it?” I ask.

  “Oh, yes! I love it. You and Sam are so gifted when it comes to songwriting. I knew that from the jump.”

  Big D says, “Every song on this record is hot. This album is gonna remind people of when Lauryn Hill first came out and dominated the charts.”

  “Don’t go there, Big D,” I say. “I don’t even like to hear you say that out loud. I can’t even touch Lauryn as an artist or songwriter.”

  Mystique says, “Sunday, you have the potential to surpass that. You don’t understand how gifted you are. D, when is she gonna get it?”

  He shrugs. “I don’t know, but I wish she’d hurry up so we can get this paper.”

  I hear what they’re saying and I want to believe it, but it almost feels like I’m being disrespectful to those who came before me. I don’t ever want to do that. What I do want is to make my own history, for real, for real.

  “So we’re going to do a video for this song,” Mystique says. “But since you’re in school, it won’t be a fabulous island thing. We can do it here!”

  “That’s hot!”

  Mystique’s fiancé, Zac, is none other than platinum-selling rapper Zillionaire. My cousin, Dreya, is gonna trip when she hears that my video is being shot in his mansion. She’s gonna trip when she hears my song, because it’s not her song. She pretty much stays in trip-out mode, so you know, it’ll be pretty normal for her.

  “Are you going to have time to put in any work on Drama’s album?” Big D asks as if he could read my thoughts. Did I conjure Dreya up?

  “I’ve already done four songs for her, but she said she wasn’t feeling any of them. I don’t know if she wants me working on her next record.”

  “She should, because Epsilon Records is about ready to dump her for all those shenanigans between her and Truth.” Mystique punctuates her words with all of the disgust I believe she feels for Dreya.

  I get a sour taste in my mouth when I think about Truth—the rapper that helped start both me and my cousin’s careers. He and Dreya have been on-again, off-again since we were seniors in high school, and the off-agains always had to do with him trying to holla at another girl (sometimes me) or putting his hands on Dreya.

  They’ve been off since Dreya was mysteriously jumped by a group of girls, for no reason whatsoever. That’s the cover story she’s telling us. I think that Truth decided to use her as a punching bag for the umpteenth time, because he was salty about getting dropped from his record deal with Epsilon Records.

  “Epsilon won’t drop her until they see the sales of her sophomore release. They’d be crazy to do it before.”

  Mystique nods. “You’re probably right. But her first record’s sales weren’t incredible. As a matter of fact, I think without the reality show and Sunday’s songs, she would already be out of the conversation.”

  “I’ll talk to Dreya and see what she wants from me,” I say. “Maybe Sam and I can work on something over the holidays.”

  Big D shakes his head and frowns. “No can do. You will be doing promotional stuff for your record, since you can’t do shows right now.”

  “You’re hot right now, Sunday. Let too many months go by and you won’t be,” Mystique says.

  “Aaargh!” I don’t want to talk about boring industry stuff anymore tonight. I’m ready to go back to campus and crash with my newfound homies. “Can I go now? I’ve got homework.”

  “Yes, but please know that I need you at six p.m. sharp on Friday. We are going to walk through the video, and record it on Saturday. I’ll have wardrobe and choreographers here.”

  “Why do we need choreography?” I whine. “This is a slow song.”

  “Because I think we’re going to have you dancing part of it like a ballerina practicing.”

  I give Mystique my blank-eyed stare. I don’t know the first thing about ballet dancing, and I know I probably can’t pull it off.

  “Oh,” Mystique says. “We’ll also have some hot models to audition to be your leading man.”

  Although Mystique seems to be thrilled by the option of a really cute boy, I really couldn’t care less. Sam played my love interest in my last video, and he was perfect. I wish he could be in every one of my videos.

  “Okay, Mystique and Big D. I’m going back on campus now. Don’t get mad if I don’t answer your texts right away. Y’all know I go to class, right?”

  “That’s what you’re telling your mother anyway,” Big D says.

  “Why would I be lying to her? I’m the one paying for this!”

  Mystique laughs out loud and gives me a high-five. “That’s right, girl. You better be a boss!”

  I hug Mystique and Big D good-bye. I’m so excited to finally have a chance to talk to Sam that I jog across Zillionaire’s ceramic-tiled floor and throw open one of the humongous glass and iron mansion doors. I don’t even make it to my car before I snatch out my cell phone to call Sam. Sweet! I have three missed calls. That means my sweetie misses me.

  I press send to automatically call his number since he was the last to call me. He answers on the first ring.

  “It’s about time you broke away from your new boyfriend to call me back,” Sam says.

  “Funny! I was meeting with Mystique and Big D,” I say as I get into my car. I can’t help but smile at the sound of his voice. It seems like I haven’t heard it in forever.

  “Everything going good so far? Your roommate sounds cool from your texts.”

  “Yes! Gia is really nice. I like her a lot. I met two other girls, Meagan and Piper. The jury is still out on both of them though.”

  Sam laughs that husky, delicious-sounding laugh. “Why is the jury out?”

  “Meagan is the rich, summers-in-the-Hamptons type, and Piper is ... well ... she’s cool, but she reminds me of Bethany.”

  “She’s white?”

  “Yeah ...”

  “So, you gonna hold Bethany’s craziness against every white girl that tries to be your friend?”

  I guess it does sound kind of silly now that I have it repeated back to me. “No. She’s cool. We’re all in the same dorm.”

  “My roommate is really smart. He was some kin
d of prodigy at his school or something. He said he’d help me with my homework and exams and stuff, if I’d let him hang out with me.”

  I laugh out loud as I step into my car. “That’s funny!”

  “Naw, that’s fortunate!”

  Hearing Sam’s voice on the phone makes me miss him more. “When are you coming home for a visit?”

  “I just left Atlanta three weeks ago.”

  “Wow.”

  “But of course, I wish I was there with you.” Immediately, he’s apologetic. I ice him with silence as I pull away from Zac’s mansion and drive down the street.

  “It’s cool. I’m doing a video shoot this weekend, and Mystique has promised that there would be lots of hot boys there to keep me company. So you don’t have to wish anything.”

  “Dang, why it gotta be all like that?”

  “Humph.”

  “You might as well stop, Sunday. You ain’t about to play me, and you know it. I have you on lock.”

  I absolutely don’t give him satisfaction that would come from me agreeing with him, but what he says is completely and totally true. He’s got me on lock—and there’s no one else I’d give the key to my heart.

  3

  When I walk back into my dorm, Gia has clothes strewn across both our beds. All types of eclectic, bright-colored pieces that I would never wear, shoes and handbags to match. She’s standing there, with her long legs in tiny shorts and with her afro somehow expanded into big crinkled sections, held back with a headband.

  “How’d you do that to your hair?”

  “Oh, that’s nothing. It’s a braidout. Gel, water, oil, braids. Plah-dow! Twist out.”

  “It’s pretty.”

  “Thank you. We’re invited to a party, so you might as well pick something out.”

  “It’s Wednesday. We have class tomorrow.”

  Gia drops the yellow Tweety T-shirt, on which Tweety has bedazzled rhinestone eyes, onto the bed in front of her.

  “You’re not going to be that roommate are you? For real? We’re in Atlanta, Sunday! And we don’t have to stay out all night.”

  “I grew up in Atlanta! A party doesn’t even sound that enticing to me right now. I’d much rather be going to bed.”

  Gia slides across the floor in her Tweety slippers (something about this chick and Tweety) and grabs me by both arms. “You have to go, Sunday! I don’t want to walk up in there alone.”

  “What about your trio of besties? Your boyfriend? Why can’t any of them go with you?”

  “They can, but they can’t walk up in the spot with me. That has to be one of my Spelman sisters.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Because, that’s how we roll.”

  I laugh out loud at Gia’s gangstaness. “Okay. I will go with you, but I’m not staying out all night. I’ve got a morning class.”

  “Your bad! My first class isn’t until eleven, so I can sleep in.”

  “Well, I’m taking a quick shower, and then I’ll get dressed. What did you decide on?”

  “This Tweety tee, black leggings, and heels. What do you think?”

  I cock my head to one side and smile. “Fiyah!”

  “Go shower! Quickly!”

  And I do. Shower expeditiously that is. I’m actually getting in the mood to go out with my new friend. I sing in the shower, my new song, and think about Sam while getting fresh and clean.

  When I emerge from the bathroom in my tiny robe, smelling like Vanilla Coconut from Bath and Body Works, Piper and Meagan have joined the fray and are posted on Gia’s bed between the mounds of clothing.

  Piper is wearing skinny jeans, a glittery tank top, and heels with her hair pulled up in a side ponytail, looking retro den a mug. Meagan is much more sophisticated in her designer skirt, panty hose heels, and fitted button-down blouse. Her pin-straight, shoulder-length hair is pinned up on one side and the only makeup she has on is lip gloss.

  “Don’t just stand there gawking at us,” Meagan says. “Get some clothes on, so we can go.”

  I haphazardly pick an outfit, a jean skirt and a dressy T-shirt. They can go on somewhere with those heels. Not me. I’m rocking some dressy flat sandals. They will be regretting those heels tonight when they’re all blistered up, trying to look cute.

  “So, I guess I’m driving, huh?” I ask the question with the obvious answer.

  “Or we can take the party bus,” Piper says.

  “What is a party bus?” Meagan asks. “And why does it sound ghetto?”

  Gia giggles. “That all depends on your definition of ghetto. It’s a big fifty-five-passenger bus that picks us up for the party, in front of our dorms and it drops us off.”

  “You mean like a Greyhound bus?” Meagan has a distasteful look on her face, like she just smelled a whiff of day-old armpit funk.

  Piper says, “It discourages drunk driving.”

  “Which I will not be doing because I don’t drink,” I reply. “I’m driving, so let’s go!”

  We prance out of me and Gia’s room like we’re ready to take on all of Atlanta. Like we’re the flyest girls on campus.

  As we cross the courtyard to the parking lot, I ask, “Whose party is this anyway? Are we invited?”

  “Chi Kappa Psi,” Meagan explains. “The Morehouse chapter. And yeah, everyone is invited.”

  Gia claps her hands with glee. “My first fraternity party! I am so stoked.”

  “I didn’t want to go at first,” Meagan says. Her high heels click on the pavement, punctuating her sentence. “But then again, this is Chi Kappa! I’m destined to be with a Chi Kappa.”

  “Why is that?” I ask as we pile into my car. This time Gia scores the coveted shotgun position.

  “Chi Kappa are the brothers of Gamma Phi Gamma,” Piper explains. “My foster dad is a Chi Kappa.”

  “My real dad is a Chi Kappa Psi man,” Meagan boasts. “They always have the first party of the year.”

  “Where is the party?” I ask once I realize that I’m driving with absolutely no idea where I’m going.

  Gia reads the flyer. “It says, The Mansion. Is that a club?”

  “No,” I reply. “It’s a real mansion that gets rented out for parties. It’s close by. I’ve been to a Mansion party or two and normally there’s lots of alcohol and nobody checking ID.”

  “That’s what’s up,” Piper says.

  When all she hears is crickets, Piper says, “What? Why y’all looking at me like I’m a Lifetime movie waiting to happen?”

  “Listen here, Piper,” I say. “Everywhere I go, someone is snapping pictures to go on Mediatakeout.com. So if you’re trying to get slizzard, you need to do that with a different crew.”

  Gia chimes in. “My mama would come all the way to Atlanta and kick my butt if she saw me on the Internet even looking like I’m thinking about getting drunk. Gwen does not roll like that.”

  “You call your mother Gwen?” Piper asks.

  “Only behind her back,” Gia replies. “She brings the ruckus.”

  Meagan says, “If you plan on pledging Gamma Phi Gamma, I suggest you carry yourself like a lady at all times.”

  Piper slumps back in her seat as if we’ve taken all the wind from her sails. I don’t know about Meagan and Gia, but I will cut this chick loose with the quickness. We ain’t Spelman sisters yet.

  I’ve already got enough drama.

  Gia says, “That doesn’t mean we can’t have fun though!”

  I glance at Piper through the rearview mirror and she’s gazing out the window with a sad expression on her face. I hope we didn’t come down too hard on her. I’m just so over ridiculousness.

  Gia and Meagan must feel the same way because we’re all sitting here in silence, but I know the perfect thing to break up the monotony.

  “Y’all want to hear my new single?” I ask.

  Piper replies, “I have your entire album, Sunday. Which song is it?”

  “I have it too,” Gia says. “Tell me it’s one of the slow cuts. Thos
e are my favorites.”

  “It’s ‘The Highlight.’ My favorite track on the whole record.”

  “That’s my favorite too,” Gia says. “It kinda became me and my boyfriend’s song over the summer.”

  Meagan says, “Sounds like I need to purchase your CD.”

  I press the button on the CD player. “Yeah, you need to cop this. Fo sho.”

  It’s funny, I think we all use an extra amount of slang when we talk to Meagan because she insists on being prep-school proper.

  The music fills the car with Gia and Piper singing along. They both have cringe-worthy voices, but it makes me feel incredibly proud that they memorized my song.

  “So what did you think?” I ask Meagan when the song is over.

  “Well, it’s not really my kind of music. I prefer Esperanza Spalding or classical. That said, it does have a beautiful melody.”

  Piper says, “Really? Girl, bye! Just say you like it.”

  This definitely breaks up the bad feelings in the car, because now we’re all laughing.

  “I’m doing a video shoot for the song on Saturday. Do y’all want to come with me? It’s at Zillionaire’s house.”

  “Zillionaire?” Gia asks.

  “The rapper?” Piper finishes the question.

  “Yes. Friday I learn the choreography, and Saturday we shoot.”

  “That’s what’s up,” Piper says. “I am so there.”

  “Count me in too,” Gia says.

  When Meagan says nothing, both Gia and Piper glare at her.

  She says, “What? I’m going shopping on Saturday with some upperclass ladies from Gamma Phi Gamma.”

  “Wow! And you didn’t ask me to roll? You know I want to pledge,” Piper says.

  Meagan throws up a dismissive hand wave to Piper. “We can’t even pledge our freshman year. Plus, I’m legacy, so I don’t have to pledge. They’re like my big sisters already.”

  “What does legacy mean?” Gia asks.

  “It means that since my mother was a Gamma that I’m automatically in.”

  I roll my eyes at this incessant chatter about Gamma Phi Gamma. I have never been so glad to reach my destination. Meagan is cool, but she gets on my nerves with all that pampered-princess crap.