Free No Boyz Allowed by Ni-Ni Simone Page A

about?”
    “Me.” I pointed to my chest. “Gem. So, can the conversation focus on me for five minutes?” I held my hand up.
    “Yo, you can calm down. What’s all the attitude about?”
    “Are you going to let me get a word in?”
    “Go ’head.”
    I swallowed and don’t ask me why I was nervous, but I was. And don’t ask me why I wanted Man-Man’s opinion, but I did. I huffed. Let out a strong string of air and said this quickly: “Doboyslikegirlslikeme?”
    “I got a low D in Spanish, so I’ma need you to say that again but hollah at me in English. And not honors English either. 101.”
    “Do. Boys. Like. Girls. Like. Me?”
    Man-Man hesitated. “Umm...” He paused and shook his head. “I knew this would happen.”
    I smirked and looked at him, completely put off. “Knew what?”
    “I knew that my swagaliciousness would cause you to take side glances at me.”
    “Say that again.”
    “But check it, I know I’m irresistible, tantalizing, and desirable. But the day you came to live with us, Ma laid down the law that you were family. Period. Dot. Dot. Dot. And the moment she declared you were my sister you became like...how do I say this without hurting your feelings?” He snapped his fingers. “Nasty looking to me. Real stank.”
    “Nasty looking and real stank?” Did he just say nasty looking and real stank?
    “Don’t trip. I mean you’re cute and all but, we can’t go there. Besides, I think it’s illegal and I can’t do jail. I stole a CD out of Walmart once, Ma made me do Scared Straight and yo, that whole deal messed ... me ... up. And ever since then I break out into nigh sweats and start screaming, ‘I don’t wanna wash your drawls, Pookie!’”
    Why did I even bother? “Look,” I said. “I’m not looking at you sideways, front ways, from the back, or any other kind of way, actually I don’t even understand why all these girls be sweatin’ you, fa’ real.”
    “Was that a diss?”
    “Anyway, all I wanna know is if you think that boys, and not you , like girls like me?”
    Man-Man looked me over, from head to stiletto, and back again. “I think,” he tapped his temple, “that a cat could think you looked a’ight. You okay.”
    “A’ight? Okay? That’s it?”
    “Yeah, that’s it. I mean if you’re looking for something to boost your self-esteem you gon’ have to watch the Bad Girls Club or Jersey Shore , ’cause I don’t do all of that.”
    “Oh ... my... God...”
    “What’s the problem? I mean, you good. I guess. And why you asking me that anyway?”
    “’Cause.” I blushed. “I kind of like somebody.”
    “Who?” he pressed.
    “One of your boys.”
    “Oh, hell nawl,” he pounded against the steering wheel. “You messing up the constitution. It’s a violation for little sisters and their brother’s boys to be kickin’ it.”
    “No it’s not.”
    He sighed. “Who is it?”
    “It’s umm—”
    “Oh hold up. Hold. Up. Yo, that night of the party when I couldn’t find you and I stepped outside and you were talking to Ny’eem, were y’all talking, like ‘hey wassup?’ or were y’all kicking it like ‘Hey. Wassup?’”
    I paused, especially since I wanted to say, “We did more than kick it—actually his swag and his kisses took me hostage and that’s why I’m so torn on whether I need to run away or stand and deal with the flurries running through my belly.” But I decided to keep it simple. “We were kicking it.”
    “I knew it. Y’all exchanged numbers?”
    “Yeah, he gave me his number.”
    Man-Man shook his head. “You talk to him?”
    “No.”
    “Good, don’t. I don’t want you talking to my boys.” He made a left into the school’s parking lot.
    “Are you serious?”
    He shook his head again. “I see I’ma have to watch you. But whatever, Ny’eem is cool, so I guess it’ll be a’ight if y’all kicked it for a minute. You called him?”
    “No. I didn’t know what to say to him.”
    “Just let it flow.