Free Not A Good Look by Nikki Carter

shoulder to see if Sam is watching. He is.
    As soon as I open the door to our house, I can tell that something is not right. My mother is putting on her coat, and Aunt Charlie is pacing the floor.
    â€œWhat’s wrong?” I ask.
    â€œIt’s Carlos,” my mother says. “He’s disappeared from the hospital. The police want me to come down there….”
    â€œDisappeared? I thought he was unconscious or something! How has he disappeared?” I ask.
    â€œI don’t know, and the police don’t, either. His mother and sister are not talking, so I think they might know where he is or have something to do with it.”
    I cover my mouth with my hand. “Do you think he’s hiding out somewhere?”
    â€œI don’t know,” my mother says as tears rush down her face. “Maybe he is, or maybe those thugs from the club came to finish off the job.”
    My mom rushes out the door, but Aunt Charlie keeps pacing the floor. She and Carlos weren’t all that tight, so I don’t understand why she’s so worried.
    â€œAunt Charlie, Carlos is gonna be okay.”
    She gives me a strange look and asks, “Sunday, where is Dreya? I been calling her cell phone and she’s not picking up.”
    â€œShe didn’t tell you where she was going?” I ask. “She’s at the studio, I guess. She’s probably staying there.”
    Aunt Charlie cocks her head to one side as if she’s pondering what I’m saying. “What do you mean, she’s staying there? She don’t think she’s got to come home?”
    â€œI don’t know what she thinks,” I say with a shrug. “I just left her, and she didn’t seem in a hurry.”
    â€œCall her for me on your phone,” Aunt Charlie says.
    â€œUnh-uh. This is between y’all. If she won’t answer her phone…”
    Aunt Charlie jumps up so fast, she looks like a blur. Next thing I know she’s in my face, and I can literally taste the smoke she blows out of her nose. Ugh.
    â€œI ain’t playing with you, Sunday. Call your cousin.”
    I roll my eyes at Aunt Charlie as I punch in Dreya’s number. I hold the phone up to my face as it rings, but as soon as I get the first syllable of “hello” out of my mouth, Aunt Charlie snatches my phone.
    â€œDreya, where are you?” Aunt Charlie asks.
    â€œWhat do you mean, you ain’t coming home?” Aunt Charlie screams into my phone.
    I’m gonna need a wet wipe and some hand sanitizer to get all her spit, cigarette ashes, and bacteria off my phone.
    â€œI don’t care about no record deal, and I ain’t heard of nobody named Big D. I’m gonna send the police after your behind.”
    I plop down in my mother’s beanbag chair to wait for my phone. I knew I shouldn’t have let Aunt Charlie use my phone to call Dreya. This might take all night.
    â€œShe hung up on me,” Aunt Charlie says with a look of surprise on her face.
    â€œCan I have my phone back now?”
    Aunt Charlie tosses the phone over to me. “What is she talking about—a record deal, Sunday? Is this legit? Has she signed anything yet?”
    â€œBig D seems legit to me. Truth’s record is about to come out next month.”
    â€œThis is your fault, Sunday. All that singing group mess, and now my daughter is living with some man, talking about a record deal.”
    â€œHow is it my fault? I’m not living over some dude’s house. You trippin’, Aunt Charlie.”
    I pull myself up from the beanbag chair and stomp all the way to my bedroom. Me storming off to my room is getting to be a regular thing.
    I lie across my bed and open my backpack. Dreya might’ve quit school for her record deal, but I’ve still got homework. Ugh, calculus. This is the one subject I could’ve bypassed because, for real, how many entertainment lawyers have to know anything about derivatives