51 Shades of Mumu

Chapter 9

    "ERMAHGOD WE'RE BACK AGAAAAIN!"

    I was greeted by Lydia's maniacal singing as soon as I set foot in Hempstead High on Monday. "EVERYBODYEAAH, YEAH; ROCK YOUR BODYEAAAH, YEAH YEAH!" The girl was belting out the Backstreet Boys as if it were the '90s all over again. Had Benny slipped her some of his Crack Pack pudding or something?

    "SUPSKI MUMUSKI!" She shouted from across the hallway. Why I had ever bothered to associate myself with such people was beyond me.

    "Hi, Lydia!" I called back. After all, someone had to be civilized, and it clearly wasn't going to be Miss Brophy.

    "MUMU, MOOOOOOOOOMOOOOOOOO! GET OVER HERE!"

   I cautiously shuffled over to Lydia as she continued talking. "Ronan knows about Jack's Mannequin! She knows. I. Am not. Alone. RONAN, YOU SEXY CHILD, YOU ARE NOW OFFICIALLY FABULOUS!"

    It was difficult to even concentrate on the words coming out of Lydia's mouth. The girl was like a walking exclamation point. She didn't talk; she roared. The good news was that now the entirety of Hempstead High School knew that Ronan listened to Jack's Mannequin.

    What the hell was Jack's Mannequin?

    "Yeah, um. I saw him in concert once," Ronan supplied weakly. A few more weeks around Lydia and I was certain we'd all go deaf.  Better yet, we'd be dead.

    "Where are y'alls off to?" Lydia asked, twirling her turquoise strand of hair around her index finger.

    "I don't know...you called me over here. I need to get to Spanish class, actually." With a harried wave, I ran off in the opposite direction, half hoping Lydia would call me back. For a few days, I had been dreading Spanish class; it was partially because Gorden was in it and Andre wasn't.

    And also partially because Hoyt Quigley was.

    From what Lydia had told me about Hoytt Quigley at the annual school dance, I was certain that he was a creep. I mean, he practically came off as one after forcing himself upon Lydia back then. Although, after actually noticing him in Spanish class, I was beginning to question Lydia's opinion. Hoytt was tall. Not just tall—he was six feet two inches of mocha colored gorgeousness.  And that wasn't even including his three inch tall afro. Jesus, the kid was like...if Kigurl were here she would've come up with some sassy comparison or another.

    Enter hombre numero tres into my swirling vortex of a love life.

*

    "¡Hola Senorita Mimi!" Mr. Harrison called the second I stepped into the steaming classroom.

    "It's Mumu," I corrected. His named was Mr. Harrison. He was a Spanish teacher. That was a good excuse, if any, to completely check out for the entirity of the class.

    "Cuando yo digo, 'Hola',  tu respondes, 'Hola, Senor Harrison', okay?" He boomed.

    "Si," I muttered, before taking my seat behind Hoytt. Oh, beautiful Hoytt. What I would give to run my fingers through that—

    I had a boyfriend. I have a boyfriend. What was I doing? First Andre and now Hoyt? Did I have some kind of disease or something? I needed to ask Candy all about this the second I got home. Hell, I needed to figure out what to do with Gorden before I did anything else.

*

    "YOU. YOU YOU YOU YOU YOU YOU YOU!" Kigurl shouted as I walked towards our lockers. It was almost lunch time, and the entire morning had been a blur of Hoytt, Andre, and Gorden. There were no classes, no other students, no books. Just those three. And me. And the major dilemma that was growing by the second.

    "Yeah..."

    "I heard about you and Andre! Guuuuurrrl!"

    Was Lydia spreading this to the entire school now? Then again, what could be expected from someone whose whispers could be heard in freaking Antarctica? "How'd you hear?" I asked, hoping I didn't sound like I was on the verge of brutally murdering someone...with blue hair.

    "Oh, you know. I got my sources."  She winked before slamming her locker door and ambling towards the staircase. "Imma see you in the cafe," She added before shoving some poor kid out of the way and disappearing into the stairwell.

    "Lydia, did you tell her?" I turned toward my psychotic friend, hoping...praying she'd say no.

    "What? About Andre? Hell no! I keep my secrets forever." She raised an eyebrow smugly and, just as Kigurl had done, strutted into the stairwell and out of my sight.

    "It wasn't me either." I spun around to find Ronan pulling a tiny purple Longchamp bag from her locker. She brought lunch to school in a Longchamp bag? Seriously?

    "Okay, okay. Just help me find out who it is, okay? I can't have people just walking around talking about me like I'm some—"

    "HO!" Crackhead Benny shouted right behind me. Wait, what?

    I watched as he slapped one of his interchangeable blonde friends on the back and continued down the hall. Exhale. Crisis averted.

    Hold on...had he been talking about me?