It Is What It Is: A So For Real Novel

by Nikki Carter

Genres: Young Adult

Synopsis

Gia's got to face the good, the bad, and the new. . . Gia Stokes is psyched for the start of her junior year at Longfellow High. She's co-captain of the Hi-Steppers dance squad, she's back on good terms with her cousin Hope, and her best friend Ricky has achieved hottie status as the school's new first-string quarterback. Now all the girls are after him, including Valerie--Gia's co-captain--and Hope. They both want Gia's help to score a date with Ricky, but how is Gia supposed to choose between them? If that wasn't enough, she also has to deal with a new dad and an annoying fourteen-year-old stepsister. It's going to take every ounce of faith Gia has to flip this script and make her junior year one to remember. "Gia Stokes might be a Hi-Stepper, but this teen role model has both feet on the ground as she meets life's challenges with style and grace." --Melody Carlson, author of the Diary of a Teenage Girl series

Release date: July 1, 2009

Publisher: Kensington -Teen/Dafina

Print pages: 256

Sample

Are bridesmaid dresses supposed to itch?

I’m asking because my mom, Gwen, has me standing in front of the church wearing a ridiculous amount of pink taffeta and some other material that’s making me itch. I close one eye and try to concentrate on making the itch disappear, because it’s in the center of my back, right where I can’t reach it.

The concentration isn’t working, so I shift my shoulders in little circles trying to reach the itch with the zipper on my dress.

“Gia, will you stop it?” hisses my cousin, Hope. “Auntie Gwen is gonna get you when she sees you squirming on her wedding video.”

She’s right. Gwen will be heated. But it’s her own fault. She shouldn’t have picked outfits that make us look like Destiny’s Child backup dancers. All of this shining and glistening is a bit extra if you ask me. The only good thing about this dress is that it amps up my miniature curves. Yes, I have officially gone from skinny to slim. You don’t know the difference? Well, boo to you. The distance from skinny to slim is about the same as the distance from thick to plump. Marinate on it.

Even though I’m sixteen and on my way into the eleventh grade, this is Gwen’s first wedding. She met a guy at our church named Elder LeRon Ferguson and they really hit it off. Even the pastor (who is also my uncle) was happy about them getting together. On the real, I think the only two people not happy about this whole blessed affair are me and Elder LeRon’s daughter, Candy.

Don’t get it twisted, I want my mother to be happy, get a man and all that, but I just thought it would all take place after I was grown. I am so not in the mood for a new daddy and a bratty little sister who will probably make my life miserable.

But if Gwen is going to be upset ’cause I’m trying to scratch my itch, then she’s gonna be extra heated when she sees Candy on video. She practically stomped down the aisle and didn’t even hold her flower bouquet up in front of her. She let her arms drop to her sides and mean-mugged the video guy all the way to the front of the church.

This itch is really starting to drive me nuts. This whole wedding ceremony thing is taking forever, too! Gwen had to go all out and have three flower girls and a miniature bride. I mean, for real, is all that even necessary?

As the third flower girl marches up the aisle throwing flowers everywhere but on the floor in front of her, Hope leans forward and whispers, “There’s Ricky.”

We both smile at my best friend Ricardo. Umm ... yeah ... survey says no. Hope needs to pause all of that action immediately. She’s been lightweight digging Ricky ever since Homecoming of last year. And that’s only because he got upgraded to “hot” status by Longfellow High’s resident vixen, Valerie. She’s the captain of the Hi-Steppers dance squad and not exactly my favorite person.

Ricky smiles back at us and waves. Even though I’m standing in the front of the church, I can tell he’s looking real fresh and real clean. My mom would say he looks dapper in his church suit and tie. But I ain’t Gwen, and dapper is a word for those old movies.

I know what you’re thinking, and the answer is no! Ricky is just my friend, not my boyfriend. Gwen is dead set against me dating until I’m in college. This is not an exaggeration either. I totally wish I was exaggerating.

Finally, Gwen starts marching up the center aisle of the church. It’s about time! When the entire congregation turns to watch her, I take my bouquet and try to scratch my back with the little plastic holder thingy.

My mom looks real pretty, kinda like me but older. She’s grinning from ear to ear as everyone takes pictures of her. Since her only close male family member is her brother—my uncle, Pastor Stokes—she decided to walk down the aisle alone.

When I asked if Pastor was going to give her away, these were her exact words: “I’m a grown woman, and I belong to God. I’m giving myself away.”

Oh the bluntness.

I am glad when Gwen makes her way up the three little steps to stand in front of Pastor and next to Elder LeRon. She looks real fly in her off-the-shoulder bridal gown that Hope and I helped her pick out. Aunt Elena helped too, but she’s my uncle’s wife and Gwen isn’t really feeling her all like that.

Pastor Stokes starts up with his standard wedding sermon. He’s talking about love, forgiveness, and all kinds of stuff I don’t need to worry about right now. My new stepsister, Candy, sighs loudly like she’s bored out of her mind. But Gwen gives her some serious I-will-cut-you-if-you-mess-up-my-wedding-day side eye and she pulls herself together quickly.

After the vows are exchanged, and Elder LeRon kisses my mom, the ceremony ends, although we have to stand up here letting everyone in the church hug and kiss us. I am so not feeling that. I’ve got about fifty different shades of lipstick smeared on my face, and everyone’s breath is not fresh. I mean, if you’re gonna eat an onion and pickle sandwich you can at least respect the personal space perimeter or get yourself some extra-strength Altoids. For real.

Speaking of people who don’t respect personal space, clammy-hands Kevin is standing in line with his grandparents. Kevin has been in love with me for like ever, and trust, it is completely against my will. And why did he just wink at me? Boy, bye!

“Here comes your boyfriend,” teases Hope.

Candy overhears and scrunches up her nose. “That’s your boyfriend? You have horrible taste.”

“Kevin is not my boyfriend,” I argue. “Hope is the one who went out on a date with him.”

Hope pinches the back of my arm and frowns. She would love to forget her “date” with Kevin. It was really supposed to be my first date with Romeo, a football player at Longfellow High. But Hope was in straight hater mode and invited herself on my date. That’s why she ended up chilling with Kevin for the evening. Let’s just say that was not a fun outing for Hope.

Actually, though, even though Kevin is the opposite of everything fab, he is a whole lot better than Romeo. Months have gone by, but I’m still somewhat irritated about how Romeo played me. You don’t just get over a boy taking you out on a date and leaving you stranded at the beach, just because you won’t get freaky with him.

I know that Jesus would forgive him, but I’m still getting there, okay?

Kevin finally makes it through the line and hugs everyone, including me. “Gia, you look really pretty.”

“Thank you, Kevin,” I reply with a tight smile.

I almost said something smart, but I’m practicing accepting compliments graciously. And if I do say so myself, outside of this pink, frilly monstrosity, I do look kinda hot! My hair is especially fresh because Gwen gave me a two-stranded twist-out.

I see you giving me a blank stare, so let me explain. My mom washed my hair and then put cream and gel in and twisted it down my back until it dried. Then she untwisted it and let the waves hang down on one side and pinned it up in the back.

Yeah, reread that and take a mental picture. Just trust me, okay? It’s fly.

Next in the line is Ricky. Hope reaches ahead of me and hugs my best friend. I think I need to keep saying that, because Hope doesn’t seem to understand. She’s trying my patience.

Then Ricky hugs me too. “Are we going skating after the reception?”

“You know it!” I reply and give my boy a high-five.

Hope frowns at me. “Do you think you could act like a lady for five minutes?”

I roll my eyes at Hope and ask Ricky, “Can you scratch my back?”

“Gia!” exclaims Hope.

Ricky and I crack up laughing because we know this irritates Hope. Hope and I have only recently renewed our BFF status. We went through some drama during our freshman and sophomore years, but we’re cool now.

Even though we’re friends again, we have very different ideas on what is fab and what isn’t fab. Hope thinks that wearing designer clothes and making sure her lip gloss matches her purse is fly. The only matching I do is to make sure I have on two of the same socks. Outside of that, it’s a free-for-all.

Finally, it’s time to head over to the church social hall for the wedding reception. Gwen got Sister Benjamin, from the kitchen ministry at church, to cater, and I’m getting super hungry thinking about her fried chicken and sugar yams. I’m about to get my serious grub on.

Hope, Candy, and I sit at the wedding-party table waiting for our food to be brought by the servers. I’m in chill mode, but Candy is looking like a straight hater with her arms crossed and her face pulled into a haterific frown.

“What’s wrong with you, Candy?” asks Hope.

Candy looks Hope up and down and says, “Mind ya’ bidness.”

“Ugh,” replies Hope. “You would be cute if you weren’t so evil.”

“And you would be cute if ... well, nah, that would never happen,” says Candy.

Can I just say that I agree with Hope? Candy has long, thick hair that she wears in a braid down the back of her head. Her eyes are big and pretty too, and she’s got smooth dark brown skin with not even one pimple.

But Hope is right. Candy is not just evil ... she’s super-duper evil.

I never thought I’d meet anyone as sarcastic as me, but Candy has got me beat for real. Anytime she opens her mouth an insult comes out of it. Even if you say something nice to her, she gives off nothing but negativity.

It’s not a good look.

“I’m going skating with you,” Candy says as if it’s true.

“Um ... no you’re not,” I reply.

She lets out an evil cackle. “Oh, yes I am. I already asked your mother and she said that you had to let me come.”

What! We’ll see about this. I march right on down to the other end of the table where the new Mrs. Ferguson is grinning and cheesing. Yeah, she can calm all of that down, because we need to have a conference.

I tap Gwen on the shoulder and she looks up. “Hi, sweetie. The food will be out in a minute.”

“Okay, but did you tell Candy that she could go skating with me and Ricky?”

She pauses for a moment like she’s trying to remember. Then she says, “Yes, I think I did. LeRon and I think you two should get to know each other, since you’ll be living under the same roof.”

“Mom, that’s not fair. She’s not even nice, and I don’t want her around my friends.” I know I’m whining, but I really am not feeling this.

Gwen frowns. “Too bad. She’s your new sister and sisters stick together.”

“But, Mom!”

“Deal with it, Gia!” Gwen fusses. “Don’t make me get ugly with you on my wedding day. You are about to make me mess up my makeup.”

Elder LeRon sits down next to my mother and asks, “Is everything all right, Gwennie? Gia, why are you frowning?”

Gwen gives me a look that says, You better not say anything.

So, I don’t. I go back down to our end of the table and eat my food in silence. Not even Sister Benjamin’s extra crispy chicken and sugary yams are making me feel better. And Candy isn’t helping either, sitting there with a smirk on her face.

Candy leans over and whispers, “I told you, Gia. Your mother wants me to like her and she’s going to do anything I ask. Me and you are going to have lots of fun this year.”

Why do I get the feeling that her idea of fun is my idea of torture?

What in the hot-Ikea-mess is this silver monstrosity sitting in the middle of Candy’s room? I think it’s a bed, but the fabulousness in me won’t allow me to sleep on it. And Gwen is grinning too hard! Ugh! Ever since she and her man got back from the Bahamas, she’s been extra.

Let me backtrack, because I see you looking all confused.

Today is moving day for me and Gwen. Instead of my mother and her new husband getting a new spot, they decided to just move into LeRon’s cramped, three-bedroom townhouse. It’s cramped because now Candy is living here full-time. She used to visit LeRon just during the holidays and stuff after her parents divorced, but now her mom has a new boyfriend, and he is not ready for a kid, so her mom shipped her off to LeRon’s.

Don’t get it twisted, this place is a whole lot better than that little shack that Gwen and I used to call home. But I have no intentions of sharing a bedroom or a metal bunk bed with the evilness that is Candy. Not even if they put a purple Tweety comforter on there, with purple furry Tweety pillows.

Side bar ... the Tweety madness is hot, even if it is probably against man law for Tweety to be wrapped up in all that purple. You didn’t know? Tweety is a boy! He is my boyfriend, by the way. He stays rocking that yellow bald head.

But anyway, enough about my man and back to the foolishness that is this sleeping arrangement.

“Mom,” I ask, “didn’t you say that this house has three bedrooms? Why do Candy and I have to share?”

LeRon answers, “Because the third bedroom is my study. It’s where I prepare my sermons and pray.”

And? Am I supposed to be cramped up just because he gets to teach Sunday school? And why does he get to make all the rules? I know my mom doesn’t make much money as an LPN, but she is paying some bills up in this piece!

Gwen adds, “Sweetie, LeRon needs his study room and there is nothing wrong with two sisters sharing a room. I shared with your Aunt Penelope.”

Yes, I know she shared with Auntie Penny. I also know that they fought like two crazy people while they were teenagers. They still fight! My uncle is always breaking them up at the family Christmas dinner.

As if Gwen is reading my mind she says, “Look, maybe me and Penny wasn’t a good example. I think you and Candy are really going to get along.”

Candy looks at me with a diabolical grin on her face. Yeah, I don’t think so. Gwen gets a big, fat No, ma’am!

“I picked the top bunk, Gia, that’s why all that Tweety stuff is on the bottom,” Candy says, sounding all pumped like she just won some Rihanna tickets on the radio. Girl, boo.

I reply, “I don’t care which bed you picked, because I am not sleeping in here.”

Can. . .