Free Famous by Simone Bryant

back to reality. I can bring her back real quick. Trust and believe that,” Risha said, still fussing aloud in the kitchen.
    Dionne and her dad exchanged a look.
    â€œI’m not the one you need to apologize to,” her father said.
    Dionne nodded, reaching up to massage her scalp with her fingertips. “I will.”
    â€œNow tell me about this group you in.”
    Dionne sat up. “It’s me, Starr and Marisol,” she said.
    Lahron scratched his chin giving his daughter a side-eye. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
    â€œTrue,” she agreed. Who else would she be in a group with but her girls?
    Dionne explained their plans, their roles in the group and the dream team Starr put together. “But we don’t have a record deal or nothing. Even Starr said her dad didn’t play when it came to his business and if we weren’t on point, he wouldn’t even mess with it.”
    â€œThis industry is way more than you kids get to see firsthand,” Lahron said, moving his diamond-encrusted microphone up and down the chain. “To be honest I don’twant that for you. I don’t want you to get caught up in that mess. Your moms and I had plans for you. Even when we have beef with each other we never lose focus of wanting the best for you. I don’t know if this is it.”
    Dionne was surprised by his words and his serious tone. Her father was always the easygoing one and the one to give her the world even if it cost him his last dime.
    â€œIt’s just for fun right now,” she said softly, trying to convince him. “And you know Mr. Lester’s not going to let anything crazy happen to us.”
    Lahron pressed his elbows into his knees and folded his hands in the air between them. He said nothing.
    Dionne knew he was going back and forth with it. “I promise my grades won’t drop and I will go to college regardless of what happens.”
    Lahron looked over at his daughter. “Let me sleep on it and talk to your moms some more. I’m not saying yes—” he continued.
    â€œBut you didn’t say no, Daddy,” she said, allowing herself to get excited as she jumped over and hugged his neck.
    â€œThe important question is, can you spit?” he asked, leaning back to look up at her.
    Bashfully, Dionne looked at the ceiling and shrugged.
    Lahron closed his eyes and shook his head with a groan.
    Â 
    The next day Dionne sat down on the metal stairs leading up to the second floor of the sports complex. She hit Send on the last text to all her hair-braiding clients notifying them that she was out of business. It was just too risky.
    At the beginning of the school year the headmaster had called her into his office to give her a letter for her parents. One good snoop and she’d discovered her father hadn’t paid her thirty-thousand-dollar tuition. Embarrassing.
    Thinking he’d been about to fall into the growing category of rappers-who-get-rich-quick-and-spend-it-even-quicker, she had cut back on her shopping and even started braiding hair for pocket money. It had been her way of helping her daddy for all he did for her before and after his rise to fame.
    But Dionne had told her clients to keep their lips zipped and obviously somebody couldn’t hold water—i.e. they talked too much.
    Before her dad hit platinum with his music, Dionne had always wanted to work and make her own money, even though her mom wanted her to focus on school.
    She hadn’t really thought about it until that nicely worded letter, with its veiled threat of her expulsion, was sent home. That had caused one helluva argument between her parents.
    â€œThere goes my baby…”
    Dionne was just headed to her art appreciation class when her ringtone sounded. She looked down at the picture of her and Hassan hugged up outside IHOP together.
    â€œHey, you,” she said, reaching down to swipe dust from her favorite cherry-red