It's All Good: A So For Real Novel

by Nikki Carter

Genres: YA Social Themes

Synopsis

Keeping it real isn't always easy. . . Gia Stokes can't wait for the debutante ball that will help celebrate the end of her junior year. She's been crushing hard on her best friend Ricky?and is hoping he'll ask her to the dance. But her friend Kevin has been looking hot too?and Gia isn't the only one at Longfellow High who's noticed. As if Gia's boy trouble wasn't enough, she's also got to deal with Valerie, who's still bitter about losing the Homecoming Queen crown and has convinced the Hi-Steppers dance squad that it's time for revenge. And then there's Sascha Cohen, who's about to get caught in a scandal that will make Gia and her friends think twice before they let their high school crushes turn into something more. . . "Full of fun-loving, unforgettable characters that readers will love. . ." --ReShonda Tate Billingsley, author of The Good Girlz series on Step to This

Release date: November 1, 2009

Publisher: K-Teen/Dafina

Print pages: 256

Sample

The answer is no ma’am. Actually, the answer is a big, fat no ma’am. There is no way I’m going to say yes to this foolishness, no matter how much my mother, Gwen, begs. No matter how much my aunt Elena gives me that puppy-dog stare.

The answer is no and that’s final.

What is the question, you ask? Well, Aunt Elena has a big idea. She calls it a big idea, and it’s big all right. A big, fat hot mess. But since she’s the pastor’s wife everyone, including my mother, is going to back her up.

She wants to start purity classes at our church and she wants me to recruit girls to participate. And not just girls from our church, but girls at school too. Why doesn’t she just ask me to make a sign that says LAME and stick it on my forehead?

Of course, I’m down for being a member of the purity class. Because the flyness that is Gia Stokes is also the purest of pure. But I don’t have any plans to go around the school announcing my virginity! That would be social suicide.

So I’m sitting here on my mother’s favorite couch with my arms folded and a fierce frown on my face, while Gwen and Elena try their best to tag-team me.

“Gia, you are a youth leader! The younger girls look up to you,” Elena says.

“She’s right, Gia,” Gwen agrees. “You would be good at this.”

“Did anyone ask Hope to do this?” I ask.

I pose this question because Hope is the obvious choice. It would make sense since she is the pastor’s daughter. Shouldn’t she be required to endure the embarrassment of being part of the pastor’s immediate family? She certainly gets to enjoy the perks!

“I did ask Hope, but she didn’t want to do it,” Elena replies.

I look to my mother for help. “So, she gets to refuse, but I can’t?”

Gwen says, “You neglected to mention that you asked Hope and she said no. I thought the two of them were going to work on this together.”

Elena laughs. “You can’t expect Hope to do something like this. She’s not really cut out for it. It would come across better from Gia. She’s more studious.”

So my aunt is pretty much calling me a lame. And lames are supposed to be virgins, right? If I close my eyes tightly and concentrate really, really hard will I be able to stop time and escape this madness?

“Are there going to be any boys in the classes?” Gwen asks.

Aunt Elena laughs. “Of course not. This purity class will culminate in a debutante ball. I’ve never heard of a boy debutante.”

“Well, boys should learn about purity too,” my mother argues.

“That will have to be something for the men to address.”

You’ve got to be kidding me! So, not only are we going to have a purity class (which I’m sure will be uncomfortably embarrassing), but they’re going to parade us around in poofy white dresses to prove that we graduated.

Good grief.

How about we talk about the reason my aunt came up with this ridiculous idea to begin with? This all started when my cousin Hope decided that she was going to go stark raving boy crazy. Now Aunt Elena is all twisted, thinking that her precious daughter is going to become a teen pregnancy statistic or something. Hence, purity classes.

Hope pretty much flipped her wig at the beginning of the school year when she chose my best friend, Ricky, as her first big crush. She and Valerie, my co-captain on the Hi-Steppers dance squad, both competed for Ricky’s affection. It was utterly ridiculous.

And holla! He didn’t pick either of them. I think he actually picked me! I say that I think he picked me because we haven’t worked out all of the details on that. But, on the night of the Homecoming dance, he gave me a Tweety charm bracelet.

And that was totally something.

Clearly it was something, because you don’t just buy your best friend jewelry. Especially when that best friend is the perfect choice for a girlfriend! But it’s been two weeks since Homecoming and there have been no can-I-be-your-boyfriend follow-up activities. Not a note, not a wink, nothing! Not even one of those distressed “I hate that I like you” looks like that teen vampire from Twilight.

Nada. Zilch.

Gwen says, “I think that both Gia and Hope should recruit girls for the purity class. Y’all need to start with that fast-tailed Valerie.”

Can you tell that Gwen no likee Ms. Valerie? My mother has had beef with Valerie since she gave me a makeover when I was in the tenth grade. She also helped me sneak out on a date and other assorted foolishness. So, yeah, Gwen has her reasons.

I want to remind Gwen of what Jesus would do in this scenario, but I also want to continue breathing, so I decide against it.

“Mom, Valerie will not want to be in the purity class. Plus, I don’t know if she qualifies. Do you have to be a virgin to be in it?”

Because if the answer is yes, Valerie is sooo not on the recruit list. I mean, I don’t think she qualifies as an actual skank or anything, but she’s pretty close. We’re talking major non-virginal activities.

“Absolutely!” says Elena. “The whole point of the class is to encourage young ladies who haven’t taken that step yet.”

I almost laugh out loud. Unfortunately, I think Hope and I are gonna have a hard time finding anyone in the junior class that will qualify. Maybe we’ll start with the freshmen.

“Okay, Aunt Elena. I’ll pass out a few flyers, but I’m not making any promises.”

Elena kisses my cheek. “Thank you, sweetie!”

“But only if Hope has to help!” I add.

“Oh, all right,” Aunt Elena says. “I’ll tell Hope that she needs to assist you.”

Gwen says, “Candy will help, too. The three of you will make a great team.”

I groan loudly. Candy is my all-around irritating stepsister. I spend enough of my downtime with her as it is, seeing that she macked her way onto the Hi-Steppers squad. Now I have to take purity classes with her, too! So not the bidness.

My phone buzzes at my hip, taking my attention away from Gwen and Elena.

I read the text message from Ricky. Hey you!

See, this is what I’m talking about. What exactly does hey you even mean? Is that a greeting for a home girl, or for someone you’re trying to holla at? I think Ricky is purposely being ambiguous (go find your dictionary, boo) so that he doesn’t have to deal with the possibility of us.

Since I don’t know if I want to deal with that either, I understand his pain. But I’m going to need him to snap out of it and declare what the whole mystery of the Tweety bracelet means.

The Tweety bracelet that I’ve been rocking every day like my boy friend gave it to me!

I text Ricky back with an equally ambiguous:

Take that, Ricky Ricardo.

“Who are you texting?” Gwen asks.

Mmm ... kay. Why is Gwen all up in my bidness? “Ricky.”

Gwen narrows her eyes and shares a glance with Aunt Elena. “Good grief. You girls are going to ruin Ricky with all of this attention.”

“I agree. He’s not the only boy on the planet,” Elena adds.

“Uh, I’m only responding to a text that my friend sent me. You two are completely out of control.”

Why is it that when I’m finally getting my little shine on, everybody wants to throw powder on it? Nobody, especially Aunt Elena, had any problem with Hope’s desperate chasing of Ricky! Did anyone tell her to pump her brakes when she was writing him twenty-page letters?

The answer is no.

Did anyone tell Hope to stay home when Ricky made it abundantly clear that he was not trying to be her date for the Homecoming dance?

Yeah ... that would be another no.

So they can absolutely save the hateration. They can save it for some time in the hopefully not-too-distant future, when Ricky is actually my boo.

Oooh, hold up a second. I’m going to have to give myself a lame citation for using the early 2000 term my boo. Womp, womp on me!

Gwen sighs and says, “We are not out of control. You young ladies are out of control, which is exactly why I’m one hundred percent for this purity class. All this boy chasing and carrying on must cease.”

Did I just roll my eyes extra hard? Yeah, I totally did.

“I agree, Gwen. It’s time we put our feet down and stop this madness!”

Okay, seriously, Auntie Elena is moving her mouth and sound is coming out, but she’s not making one bit of sense.

“I said I’d be on your recruitment squad! Can I please be dismissed? You two don’t need me in the room to discuss the state of today’s teenager!”

Gwen narrows her eyes and turns to Elena. “Do you see what I have to deal with?”

“Hope isn’t any better,” Aunt Elena replies.

A growl escapes my lips as I storm off to my bedroom. I plop down on my brand-new Tweety comforter and pull my phone out. It’s buzzing again.

Hi-Steppers meeting in two hours at IHOP.

This time it’s Valerie blowing up my phone. I already know what she wants to meet about. The Longfellow Spartans are going to the state football championship, and we have to do an extra-special routine.

Valerie should be glad she’s still on the squad after what she pulled at the Homecoming game. She was extra heated that she didn’t win the Homecoming Queen title and take over the halftime show. She had the drum major in the marching band give a speech about her and everything.

It was bananas!

Somehow, I think Valerie still isn’t over the loss to quiet little Susan Chiang. She blames every single last person on the rally girls spirit squad, my cousin Hope included, for not getting that Homecoming Queen crown.

And if she’s not over it ... then the war is not over.

If I was one of the rally girls, I’d be taking cover. They’re going to be walking down the hallway, and out of nowhere someone’s going to yell “Man down!” just like Keyshia Cole’s mama on that reality show.

And trust ... it’s going to be all bad.

Two hours later, my stepsister Candy and I walk into the gymnasium for the Hi-Steppers meeting, and everyone is already here. That’s a first, because Valerie is always late. She likes to take her time and let everyone wait for her. It’s all about her inner diva.

But not today, so she must be on some kind of mission. And from the look on her face, it’s all bad.

“Ooo-OOO!” Valerie calls. “Thanks for showing up!”

Ooo-OOO is the Hi-Steppers’ trademark. It sounds kind of like a bird call, unless you’ve got a deep voice, and then it just sounds a mess.

I reply, “Chill, we’re only five minutes late.”

“What a good example for the rest of the squad, cocaptain. ”

I toss up one hand and roll my eyes. “Carry on, Valerie.”

Valerie is still twisted that she’s no longer the queen of the Hi-Steppers. At the beginning of the school year, our coach, Ms. Vaughn, made me Valerie’s co-captain based on my ridiculous choreography skills.

I know what you’re thinking. I am feeling myself just a little bit. Normally, that would not be a good look, but in this case, it is totally justified. Seriously!

Valerie continues, “Anyway, I was saying how we, as the Hi-Steppers, have to reclaim what’s ours.”

“And that would be what?” Kelani asks.

Candy and I look at each other and smile. Kelani must be sick of being Valerie’s sidekick. Kelani and Jewel, the giggle twins, have generally been Valerie’s little peons. She tells them to jump, and they’re doing double dutch.

“Why don’t you listen so I can finish?” Valerie asks. “We need to reclaim our title as the school’s spirit ambassadors.”

Jewel says, “I thought that the cheerleaders were the spirit ambassadors.”

“What about the rally girls?” Candy adds.

“Really,” I say, “we’re the front line of the marching band. So, yeah, we’re about spirit, but we’re mostly about stepping!”

Everyone nods at my definition. Well, not everyone. Valerie looks like she wants to open a whole can of Latina whooping on me.

“We are more than the front line of the marching band. We get the team pumped for a victory! WE are the heart and soul of the Longfellow Spartans!”

Somebody has been watching too many Lifetime movies.

“Okay, okay. We’re the heart and soul! But what does that have to do with our step routine for the state championship?” I ask.

Valerie smiles. “I’m glad you asked that, Gia. I’ve come up with a routine that will prove who has the most spirit.”

Valerie points to Jewel, who gets up to press Play on the CD player. Rihanna’s “Umbrella” plays from the speakers. Valerie does her little step, and er ... uh ... it is the opposite of slamming. Actually, it’s la-a-a-ame.

After the music stops, I look around to see everyone’s expressions. No one is impressed. At all. I don’t even think Valerie was impressed with that mess.

“Well, you have to see it with the umbrellas,” Valerie explains.

She is met with silence. Ha!

Should I save her? I suppose I will.

I say, “I’m with you on bringing the spirit, but what if we do a traditional military drill step to the music?”

Valerie scrunches her nose like she’s not feeling it. “Military? Boo, we are fabulous. We do fabulous routines.”

No, she didn’t. Not after she just did a routine that looked like my three-year-old cousin’s ballet recital.

“Valerie, we can do it in a totally fab way. Check this. The Spartans in Greece were warriors, so our Spartans, they’re like soldiers.”

Valerie rolls her eyes. “Yeah, I get where you’re going with the military theme. Just hurry up and get there.”

You cannot rush genius.

“Anyway,” I continue, “we can get the Spartans pumped up with this.” I grab my book bag and take out a CD and a whistle. I look over at Candy, who’s waiting for my cue. She and I have been rehearsing this routine and it is fire, trust me.

I pop my CD into the CD player.

I say, “Kelani, when I point to you, press Play.”

“What?” Valerie asks. “The music starts the routine.”

“Not this one. I. . .