Diva Rules by Amir Abrams Page A

you right now,” Miesha says. “Weren’t you just out with your other sister, like yesterday, shopping?”
    I laugh. “No. We only went to the spa to get facials ’n’ mani-pedis. And that was two days ago.”
    â€œSo. I’m still jelly.”
    Antonio pulls Miesha into his arms ’n’ kisses her on the side of her head. “You ain’t gotta be jelly, babe. You know ya daddy got you. I’ma take you to get ya feet done on Saturday, a’ight.”
    She grins. “ And my hands?”
    He laughs. “No doubt.” He takes her hand in his ’n’ turns it over, then kisses her palm. “Yo, my baby got them soft hands.” Miesha giggles.
    Ugh. These two are sickeningly in love with each other.
    â€œYo, let me see them pretty toes, Fee,” Cease says, licking his lips. He’s seated at the table, plucking a sweet potato fry from off Miesha’s half-eaten tray of food. “You know I gotta foot fetish, right?”
    I smirk. “How cute.”
    â€œI’m sayin’, though”—he lowers his voice—“when we gonna chill? Me ’n’ you?”
    I roll my eyes. “Never, boo.” I toss up two fingers. “Deuces. I’m out.”
    â€œYo, Fiona?” Cease calls out.
    I glance over my shoulder. “Yesss?”
    â€œC’mere for a sec.”
    I suck my teeth ’n’ stalk back over to him, popping my hips real hard ’n’ fast, making sure everything shakes for all to see.
    â€œWhat is it?”
    â€œLet me get some sugar, yo.”
    I frown. “What, a kiss ?”
    He grins.
    â€œAre you serious? Right here?”
    â€œYeah. Right here. I dare you.”
    Miesha ’n’ Antonio look on, both with silly grins on their faces.
    â€œOkay,” I say. Cease puckers up those sexy lips of his. I lick my lips real slow ’n’ sexy-like for him. Then lean in as if I’m about to take him up on it. But instead I take my fingers ’n’ pluck his lips, just enough to sting.
    â€œOww! See, you playin’, right?”
    â€œBye, Cease.” I shake my head, shoulder my bag, spin on my heel, ’n’ head off to class, way before the bell rings, with my booty bouncing ’n’ a sly grin plastered on my face.

16
    â€œF iona!”
    I quickly slide the earbuds to my iPod into my ears ’n’ ig her.
    â€œFiona!”
    I start singing all loud ’n’ off-key to an Ariana Grande song.
    â€œFiona!” She bangs her hand on the foot of my bed.
    I snap my fingers, continuing to sing “The Way.” Pretend to be oblivious to her presence.
    She stands in front of me. Hand on hip. Face extra tight. “Fiona! You hear me talking to you, girl!”
    I suck my teeth, looking up from my notebook at her, pulling an earbud out. “What?”
    â€œDon’t what me. Why aren’t those dishes done?”
    I give her a blank stare. Really? Is she frickin’ kidding me?
    I take a deep breath. “I’ll do them in a minute. Why are you even here?”
    â€œI’m getting ready to leave for work. Don’t leave up outta this house, either. You think I don’t know what you be doing when I’m not here.”
    I huff. “And what is it you think I’m doing, huh?”
    She glares at me. “Don’t try me, girl. You either got some boy running in ’n’ outta here, or you sneaking up outta here all hours of the night. And just because I haven’t said anything, don’t think I don’t know about that boy you had climbing up outta your bedroom window two months ago.”
    I blink. How’d she know about that? Then it dawns on me that Miss Pitney next door musta had her ole nosy butt all up in my business. Ole messy heffa! She stays minding somebody else’s business. She swears she’s the Neighborhood Watch.
    I frown. “Tell your spies to get it right. I don’t