Not A Good Look Read online

  Disney! I look Disney? I am beyond annoyed as I watch Dreya sashay into the booth and put the headset on. Big D hits the track again and she nails it on the first time. Her soprano sounds pretty good, like Ashanti with a little bit more soul.

  “Can I at least get a songwriter credit on the track?” I ask.

  Sam grins and Bethany’s eyes widen. I wonder if I’m asking for too much. Well, it’s too late now. I can’t take it back.

  “Naw, baby, this is a jam session, so it’s like a collabo. But I’ll put your name in the thank-you’s. How ’bout that?”

  Okay, I know how it works in the industry. I know on my first few hits I probably won’t get any songwriter credit, or money for that matter. But once I get known for being a hit maker, the paper will come.

  Still, I don’t like the idea of coming up with an idea and someone else putting their name on it. That sucks, for real, especially since I can’t even sing on the track except in the background.

  Big D gives me a fist pound. “What’s your name, lil’ mama? You a real business woman, ain’t you?”

  “Sunday Tolliver.”

  “All right then, Ms. Sunday, you keep doing what you doing, and I’ma be writing you checks. That’s fo’ sho’.”

  I give Big D a nod and a tight smile. “That’s what’s up.”

  “Come on over here, Sam, and do your magic,” Big D says.

  Sam sits down at the controls, makes a few adjustments, and then gives Dreya and Truth the signal to start again. They go through the entire song, and the track is bumping. Dreya’s vocals leave a little to be desired, but it’s whatever. Me and Bethany are dancing like we’re in the club, and even the laid-back Shelly is getting her groove on.

  “That’s it right there, Daddy,” Shelly says to Big D.

  Big D pats me on my back and gives me a fist pound. “I think we’ve found a little gold mine.”

  Is he talking about the song or is he talking about me?

  4

  After the recording session, Dreya decided to play wifey and stayed with Truth at the studio, leaving me and Bethany to find our own ride to the house. Luckily, Sam is on his way out.

  “Can we ride with you?” Bethany asks.

  “Sure, but I have to make a stop first.”

  My face tightens. “What kind of stop?”

  I’m not about to get caught up in anyone’s illegal activities. So if he’s making that kind of stop, I’ll catch a cab.

  “I need to get an apple juice slush at Sonic. Is that all right with you?” There’s a little gleam in Sam’s eye that makes me think he knew what I was thinking.

  “Yeah, an apple juice slush is cool.”

  Bethany and I follow Sam to his car. I watch Bethany graze his body with hers every opportunity she gets. She stays in groupie mode all day and all night. Sam’s not even a star, but something on him must smell like swagger.

  Sam walks around to the passenger side of his car, a red Explorer SUV, and opens the front door for me. I guess he’s not impressed by Bethany and all that junk she’s carrying in her trunk, because clearly he wants me riding shotgun. And the door-opening gets him extra points with me.

  Bethany looks a tad bit salty, but she climbs in the backseat when Sam opens the door for her as well. I give him the eye as he walks around to his side, and on second appraisal, he’s not that bad looking. He’s wearing black-framed glasses (not sunglasses, regular glasses) and now has on an Atlanta Falcons cap pulled down low. It’s a quirky look, like Lupe Fiasco or somebody, but he working it.

  “So where do y’all stay?” Sam asks as he starts the SUV.

  “Decatur, off of Candler.”

  He nods and pulls out of the driveway. I wait to see if he’s got any opinion about where we stay. It’s not the hood, but it definitely ain’t the lavish life. But Sam’s face isn’t giving anything away, so if he’s got an opinion, he’s keeping it to himself.

  Sam drives into the Sonic at the end of the street and pulls into a parking spot. “Y’all want something?”

  “Yeah, I want a cherry limeade slush and Tator Tots,” Bethany says.

  “And for you, Sunday?” Sam asks.

  “Nothing. No, thank you.”

  “You sure?” he asks.

  “Yeah, I’m sure.”

  Sam shrugs and says, “Okay, fair enough. Maybe next time.”

  Next time? There’s going to be a next time?

  Sam orders the drinks and Tater Tots for Bethany. I almost change my mind and order a drink, too, but I’m really not thirsty.

  “Sam, how’d you start working for Big D?” Bethany asks.

  “A friend told him about my skills, and I went into the studio one day and showed him what I was working with. Next thing you know, I’m the main studio engineer and I’m producing tracks.”

  “You’re so good at it,” Bethany says. “I bet you could be making a lot of money if you had your own spot.”

  “One day, I guess. Right now, Big D pays me well and I’m making a lot of connections.”

  The Sonic girl brings the order out to the car, and Sam pays her. He watches the girl as she walks away.

  “You like what you see?” I ask.

  Sam laughs. “I’m sorry. In the summer she always wears short shorts. I guess I was just reminiscing.”

  I shake my head. Boys are disgusting. Even if they do know how to open car doors and bake lasagna.

  I lean back in my seat, intent on being quiet the rest of the way to the house.

  “How’s it feel to make your first hit?” Sam asks when we stop at a red light.

  “It was easy.”

  Sam chuckles. “That was easy to you, coming up with a hook? Where have you been all my life?”

  “I don’t know. Are you working with some artists?”

  “A few, but nobody with that it factor, you know. Just the same ole same ole. Nobody that’s gonna blow up. Except Truth. He’s gonna be off the charts.”

  “Do you think we can blow up?” Bethany asks from the backseat.

  Sam glances in the rearview mirror and nods. “Y’all definitely could.”

  “You still in school?” I ask Sam.

  “Yeah. I’m a senior at DSA.”

  “DeKalb School of the Arts?” I ask. “That’s hot. You must be talented for real.”

  Sam blushes a little. I guess I’m embarrassing him. The fact that he’s blushing is actually kind of cute, because at least he doesn’t have a big head.

  “I sing and play piano and cello,” he replies.

  “Cello?” Bethany falls out laughing in his backseat. “Are you serious?”

  I roll my eyes. “Don’t listen to her. I love stringed instruments. That’s cool.”

  “Do you play?”

  “Nah, but I wish I did. I took a few piano lessons when I was little, but my mom couldn’t afford to keep them up. I think it would really help me with my songwriting if I knew how to play.”

  “I give lessons.”

  I laugh out loud. “Are they free lessons? I’m trying to go to college, so I don’t have a lot of extra cash lying around. Actually, I don’t have any extra cash lying around.”

  “For you, they’re free.”

  “Are you flirting with me?” I ask. “Trying to get at me with some piano lessons?”

  “Nope. I just think you’re talented.”

  I’m cheesing now, from ear to ear. “Okay, then. Oh, wait. Turn right—this is Bethany’s street.”

  Sam turns onto her street, and asks, “Which one is your house?”

  “Second one on the left,” Bethany replies. “The red one.”

  Why is her voice dripping with attitude? Obviously Sam is not checking for her, so she might as well get dropped off first. But I know I’m gonna hear about this tomorrow. She has this thing about claiming boys, whether they’re digging her or not.

  Sam pulls into Bethany’s driveway and she gets out. “’Bye, Sam. It was nice meeting you.”

  “Same here.”

>   “See you tomorrow, Bethany,” I call as she walks away without saying good-bye to me.

  Sam waits until she gets into the house and then backs down her driveway. “She mad at you about something?” he asks.

  “Probably. It’s whatever, though. She’ll get over it.”

  “So which way do I go to get to your house?”

  “Oh. Take a left at the stop sign, and then down the hill.”

  At the bottom of the hill, in front of my house, are about six police cars. Lights flashing and everything. There’s an ambulance and a fire truck, too, which puts me in straight panic mode. I almost lose it when I see my mother standing in our yard crying, with Aunt Charlie holding her up.

  “This your house?” Sam asks.

  “Yeah, let me out.”

  I run toward my house and a police officer grabs my arm and tries to stop me. “Young lady—”

  “This is my house! That’s my mother!”

  “It’s all right, officer, sir. She lives here.” This is Sam talking. I didn’t even know he followed me.

  “Well, move it indoors, then. There’s nothing to see out here.”

  Sam nods in agreement. “Yes, sir.”

  The police officer lets go of my arm, and Sam and I run over to my mother.

  “Mama, what’s wrong?”

  My mother opens her mouth to say something, I guess, but then she just breaks down crying.

  “Someone shot Carlos.”

  My eyes open wide. “What? No way!”

  “I’m riding to the hospital with him, Sunday,” my mother says between sobs. “Just go in the house and stay inside, okay. In case they come back.”

  “In case who comes back?” I ask frantically. “Do you know who did this?”

  My mother kisses my cheek and runs to the ambulance to ride with Carlos to the emergency room.

  I turn to Aunt Charlie for answers. “What is going on?”

  “He was meeting up with some guys to buy into a club. One of the guys is LaKeisha’s brother.”

  “His baby’s mother, LaKeisha?” I ask.

  “Yeah. I guess a fight broke out and they followed him back here to finish things off.”

  “Finish things off? Is Carlos…”

  Tears well up in Aunt Charlie’s eyes. “They shot him so many times that I don’t see how he can make it. But God is able.”

  It must be bad if Aunt Charlie is talking about God. She’s one of those people who only thinks of religion, God, and church when she’s in some kind of trouble. My chest tightens at the thought of us losing Carlos.

  Aunt Charlie looks Sam up and down. “Who are you? And where is Dreya?”

  “Dreya stayed with her boyfriend, Aunt Charlie—and this is Sam. He just gave me a ride home from the studio.”

  “What do you mean, Dreya stayed with her boyfriend?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know, Aunt Charlie. Where’s Manny?”

  “Will you go in the house and check on him for me? I’m gonna drive your mother’s car to the hospital.”

  Even though I want to go to the hospital to be with my mother, I nod and obey Aunt Charlie. Sam follows me to the door.

  “Are you going to be all right?” Sam asks. “Do you need me to stay?”

  Wow. He looks like he’s concerned for real, and I’ve only known him a few hours. I’m touched.

  “Could you, please? Just for a little while. I don’t know if I want to be here by myself.”

  “I can stay for as long as you need me to stay.”

  “Do you have to call someone?” I ask. I don’t want him to get in trouble trying to make sure I’m okay.

  “My mother works nights. She doesn’t come in until after I’ve already gone to school.”

  “Okay, well, I just wanna warn you, this isn’t a mansion. We’re just a regular hood family.”

  Sam shakes his head. “Sunday…why do you think I would care about that?”

  “I’m just sayin’.”

  Truth is, I’m embarrassed about our little house. It’s clean and everything, but it’s definitely not ready for entertaining. I never have company. In fact, the only people at school who’ve been here are Bethany and Romell.

  I show Sam into the living room, where Aunt Charlie’s blankets are still on the couch in front of the television. Her ashtray is filled with several smoking cigarette butts, which I snatch and throw in the garbage.

  “You can have a seat here,” I say, pointing to the love seat that is blanket free. “Aunt Charlie would trip if she came back and you were sitting on her bed.”

  Sam sits down. “This is better anyway, because you’ll have to sit closer to me.”

  “Look at you getting fresh!” I say with a tiny giggle. “I could always sit at the table.”

  “Or we could sit in your bedroom,” Sam suggests.

  “Now you’re tripping,” I reply, my tone now all business.

  Sam raises two hands in defeat. “I’m joking, Sunday. Calm down.”

  Manny walks up from the back hallway with a frown on his face, and all that mean mugging is directed straight at Sam. Manny takes that whole “don’t talk to strangers” rule to a whole other level.

  “Who are you?” Manny asks. He looks angry but his face is streaked with tears.

  “I’m Sam. What’s up with you, lil’ dude?”

  “I ain’t yo’ lil’ dude. You don’t even know me like that.”

  I stifle a laugh at the look on Sam’s face. He obviously didn’t know that Manny was gangsta wit’ it.

  “Sam, this is my cousin Manny. He’s Dreya’s little brother.”

  Sam smiles. “Oh, I’m sorry, sir. You must be the man of this house.”

  “Yeah. Don’t get it twisted, knucklehead. What you doin’ here and ain’t no grown people home? My auntie don’t let no boys be all posted up in her spot like that.”

  Sam laughs out loud and looks at me. “How old is he?”

  “Four going on thirty-five. He watches way too much TV.”

  “Hey, I can hear y’all,” Manny fusses.

  “I’m sorry, little man,” Sam says. “Some scary stuff happened tonight, and I’m just staying here with y’all until your mother and auntie come back. Is that all right with you?”

  Manny gathers his blanket around his shoulders. “It was scary. I heard a gun.”

  “I’m scared, too, Manny.” I scoop Manny up and hug him to my chest.

  Manny throws his arms around my neck and squeezes hard. He might think he’s four going on thirty-five, but he’s just a baby. I kiss his forehead and lay him down on the couch.

  Suddenly, I feel kind of open, like Sam is up in my personal space way too quickly. He’s got a caring look on his face, but it kind of makes me nervous because we just met.

  “Do you want something to drink?” I ask.

  Sam holds up his Sonic cup. “No thanks. I still haven’t finished my apple slush.”

  “Okay.” I grab the remote control and turn on the TV, hoping that the noise is a distraction.

  Sam pats the seat next to him. “Chill, Sunday. You seem completely stressed out. Everything’s gonna be all right.”

  As I sit down, he takes the remote from me and changes the channel to Meet the Browns. Even though I never watch sitcoms, I totally could use the distraction.

  “Looks like there’s a marathon on. Six back-to-back episodes. You down?” Sam asks.

  “Sure, whatever.”

  I try not to laugh, but the combination of Mr. Brown and Sam imitating Mr. Brown gives me a serious case of the giggles. It’s definitely helping me to not think about Carlos getting shot.

  I stretch my arms toward the ceiling and yawn. I’m tired, but I don’t want to go to bed and leave Sam sitting up here by himself watching TV, so I force my eyes to stay open for as long as I can.

  I guess Sam and I watched the show until I fell asleep. The only reason I know I fell asleep is because Aunt Charlie taps my leg to wake me.

  “Wake up, Sunday. Walk your fri
end out.”

  “Wh-what happened with Carlos?”

  “They don’t know if he’s gonna make it. His mama and sister are up at the hospital, too.”

  I shake my head. “How’s my mother doing?”

  “She was cool until LaKeisha showed up at the hospital starting mess.”

  “Why would she even come up there?”

  Aunt Charlie shrugs. “I guess seeing if Carlos died or not, because her brother is about to get charged with either murder or attempted murder.”

  “So y’all know it was him?”

  “Who else would it be? The cops said they were getting a warrant for his arrest, so it’s only a matter of time.”

  “This is too messed up,” I say.

  “Mmm-hmm. That’s why we keep telling y’all to go to college, so you don’t have to fool with this mess right here.”

  “I know that’s right, Auntie.”

  “Your boyfriend is waiting at the door, girl.”

  I laugh out loud. “He’s not my boyfriend, Aunt Charlie. I just met him this evening.”

  “Well, I think he’s a good boy, staying over here like that. You might wanna holla at him.”

  “Auntie!”

  “I’m just sayin’.”

  I stretch again and walk over to Sam, who’s leaning against the door with his eyes closed. He looks like he’s asleep standing up.

  “Sam, are you gonna be cool driving home?”

  He opens his eyes. “I’m good. I was just resting my eyes.”

  “I think you should just stay here. It’ll be okay if you sleep on one of the couches.”

  He smiles. “I’ll be fine. But thanks for thinking ’bout me.”

  “You just make sure you call me when you get home.”

  Sam’s smile widens. “Is that your sneaky way of trying to give me your phone number?”

  “Boy, stop playing! I just want to make sure you get home okay.”

  “It’s all right, Sunday. I like an aggressive woman. But all you had to do was give me your number. I would’ve taken it.”

  I roll my eyes and snatch Sam’s phone to punch my number in. “Call me.”

  “What if I forget? Don’t you want to have my number so you can check on me?”

  I narrow my eyes and try to keep from smiling, but it’s not working. I hand my phone to Sam. He glances at me with a mischievous smile as he punches the numbers in.