Boy Trouble by Reshonda Tate Billingsley

my friends.”
    â€œOh,” was all he said. I knew J. Love had no interest in anything other than us, so I asked, “Have you heard from Mynique?”
    â€œI told you I don’t mess with her like that,” he answered. “Besides, she ain’t nothing but trouble. The way she flirts with dudes is gon’ get her hurt.”
    â€œYou should know,” I said.
    â€œHey, I didn’t flirt with her. And I’m just saying. Dudes don’t like being disrespected like that and your girl is a trip.”
    â€œShe ain’t my girl,” I said. “But whatever. If she wants to get beat up, more power to her. Not my problem.”
    As soon as the words left my mouth, I wondered if I’d one day be saying the same thing about my two best friends.

Chapter 16
    T his girl is really ignoring me! I pressed END on my phone and tossed it onto the table. I hadn’t heard from Sheridan in two days and as friends who talked to each other every day, that was completely out of the ordinary. The only time we’d gone this long without talking was back when we had all that Miami Divas drama. I know she couldn’t still be mad about me mistaking Jose for Javier. I’d apologized. Good grief, what else did she want?
    Sheridan hadn’t been at school yesterday and today she hadn’t been answering my calls. I was about to get an attitude in a minute.
    â€œDo you think she’s still mad at me about Javier?” I asked Kennedi, who was sitting there staring out the window of my second-floor bedroom. Her being mad at me hadn’t lasted long. She’d come up to me at school, acting like she hadn’t been ignoring me, then said that she was coming home with me.
    â€œI don’t know,” Kennedi said. I so could not appreciate her nonchalant attitude when I had some real issues that I was dealing with.
    â€œDo you think I should dye my hair pink and join a rock band?” I asked her.
    â€œI don’t know,” Kennedi said as she continued staring out the window.
    â€œHey, what is wrong with you?”
    Since we’d walked into my room more than an hour ago, Kennedi hadn’t said more than a few words. She kept looking at her phone and pacing back and forth. I’d asked her over a dozen times what was wrong. She’d said nothing, but it was obvious something was bothering my friend. She swore it wasn’t Kendrick, but I didn’t see how it could be anything else.
    I had gone and picked her up because she was so down. She’d wrecked her car (her third wreck), so her dad wouldn’t let her drive. If it wasn’t the car and it wasn’t Kendrick, I don’t know what it was.
    â€œI keep telling you nothing. I wish you would quit nagging me. You worse than my mama,” she said, snapping.
    She made me stop in my tracks. I just stared at her and she gave me this look like she was really irritated with me.
    â€œJust because I’m not concerned with your little trivial drama about your fake friend, don’t start tripping with me,” she continued.
    It took a moment for me to compose myself, but finally, I said, “Whoa, someone needs to take a chill pill. What the heck is your problem?”
    I knew that Sheridan and Kennedi really didn’t cut for each other, but over the past year they’d learned to get along so I didn’t know what all of this was about.
    Before I could say another word, Kennedi’s phone rang. She must’ve broken her neck darting across the room to get her phone, which was sitting on the dresser.
    â€œHello?” she answered. I saw her let out a frustrated sigh.
    â€œI’m all right, Mom . . . No . . . What number is this you’re calling me from? No, I’m cool. Nothing’s wrong. I’ll call you back later.” She hung up the phone.
    I raised an eyebrow. “Now, do you want to tell me what’s going on? Because you’re snapping at your mom like