Free Fabulous by Simone Bryant Page A

Dionne let herself enjoy the sight that was Hassan Ali. Tall, dark as chocolate, fade shining and freshly cut, cubic zirconia blingshining from his ear and a brightly colored hoodie that perfectly matched his Nikes. There wasn’t a boy at Pace who could touch Hassan.
    “What’s up, stranger?” he asked as he jogged down the stairs to pull her close for a hug.
    “Nothing much, what’s up with you?” Dionne asked as she stepped back out of his embrace.
    Hassan leaned back and looked at her before he shrugged and slid his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. “Just thought I’d come and check on you since—”
    Just then Dionne’s Sidekick began to vibrate on her hip.
    His eyes dropped down to it. “So your phone do work.”
    Dionne licked her glossy lips. “Hassan, I—”
    “Uhm, uhm, uhm. How you doin’, Hassan?”
    Dionne looked over her shoulder at Joshia and Kim walking up to them. Joshia ignored Dionne as she reached up to stroke his square cheek. “Still fine as always,” she said in a soft and flirtatious voice.
    Dionne went from being hurt that they were ignoring her, like Starr ignored out-of-season clothes, to being mad. Unlike Marisol and Starr, they knew she liked Hassan. So one of them stepping to Hassan in such a bold way was like a dare for her to say something. Dionne wasn’t even going to get punked by nobody. “And he’s busy, so bounce,” Dionne snapped, ready to swing out at one or both of them if necessary.
    Joshia was short, thick and curvy but she knew Dionne could and would spank that butt if necessary. Still she turned and stepped in Dionne’s face anyway.
    Dionne dropped her book bag.
    Hassan held up his hands and jumped in between them. “Dang, man, ain’t y’all friends?” he asked in surprise.
    “Humph,” Joshia said with plenty of attitude as she eyed Dionne from head to toe with attitude. “Forget that bourgie chick.”
    “Forget that jealous chick,” Dionne threw back at her over Hassan’s broad shoulder.
    “Jealous?” Both Joshia and Kim screeched as if in shock.
    “Don’t hate…CON-GRA-TU-LATE,” Dionne screeched back.
    Hassan bent down to snatch up her book bag before he guided her up the stairs of the porch by her shoulders. “Come on, Didi,” he urged.
    Dionne glared at her old friends/new enemies over her shoulder until she walked into the dimly lit entry hall of the building. “I can’t believe them,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest as she paced in front of the mailboxes in the wall.
    Hassan handed over her book bag and shook his head sadly. “I can’t believe you either,” he told her.
    Dionne paused and turned to look up at him. “Huh?”
    Hassan reached out and stroked her cheek, before he turned and opened the door. “I’m not callin’ you no more, Dionne. And if you take too long to call me I’m not gonna answer.”
    With that he walked out the door leaving Dionne feeling big-time crushed.

sixteen
    Starr
September 19 @ 10:45 a.m. | Mood: Pissed!
    Starr paced the length of the sitting room of the bathroom as she waited for her friends. They needed each other now more than ever.
    Until now she had been having a good day—a great day, in fact. First, she woke up to the news that her dad had hired her her very own production crew to capture every moment of her party planning and the ultimate party night. Second, the tastings for her Sylvia Weinstock cake were divine. She couldn’t wait for the moment when the cake would rise up from the floor of the stage for all to stare in awe and envy. And last, all of the students who had not been invited to her birthday bash were falling at her feet begging for an invite. Of course, they could forget about it. Her guest list was set, but she loved all the extra attention anyway. And best of all?
    Starr whipped out her cell phone and scrolled through her incoming texts.
     
    JORDAN: NEED 2 TALK 2 U. CAN U MEET ME AT THE GYM DURING LUNCH?
    UR#1STARR: K.
     
    Starr had been floating