51 Shades of Mumu

Chapter 17

    "So, do you know who you're bringing in for Career Day next friday?" Zenphen drawled as we sipped a giant mango lassi in tandem.

    The two of us were seated in Spice Village, a restaurant similar to that of my dad's but much, much, classier. The dimmed recessed lighting cast a glow over each table, making the restaurant appear almost enchanted as smaller lights twinkled overhead. Astonishingly, Zenphen knew the owner of Spice Village and ended up scoring us the best table in the entire restaurant. In addition to the spectacular lighting, we had a ceaseless view of the Long Island Sound and a never-ending sniff of millions of dead fish.

    So why was my Zenny asking me about career day? Shouldn't he have been saying something along the lines of, "Let me help you out of that dress"?

    "Does Hemp High have some event every Friday?" I asked, irritated.

    "Just in October. It's kind of like…spirit month at Hempstead. So, anyway, I was thinking of bringing my older brother, Zander. But then I was like…does anyone want to be a polo player anyway? I mean, me and Zander do it because we love to hang around the horses, but…I'm boring you, aren't I?"

    In actuality, I was swooning. He liked polo because of the horses. How cute was that? Not only did he sing deep Disney tunes and play every stringed instrument including the tanpura and the dulcimer, but he also loved animals. Zennycakes was the opposite of boring. "Hun," I said, avoiding his backwash in the lassi, "there is nothing wrong with a polo playing brother. He could even tell the students how much he likes the horses. I'm pretty sure they'll love him."

    "Your dhal and pooris," a waiter said, placing the massive plate of steaming lentils and light fried bread in front of Zenphen.

    And that was when I knew I had to get Zenphen Hale away from me. Or at least tell him to get a better taste in food. To me, food was like fashion. And while he might have enjoyed the greasy deep fried pooris and heavily pressure cooked dhal, I was highly grossed out by them. They were like…Crocs of the food world. Something had to be done.

    "You wah some?" Zenphen inquired, shoving lentil covered poori in my face and speaking with his mouth full. I cringed.

    "No. No thanks. I actually hate that stuff."

    He sucked down the remainder of the mango lassi, buying himself time. It reminded me of those Twix commercials where someone says something horrible and then eats a Twix to waste time thinking of how to fix the situation.

    "Fine, more for me. So, anyway, who are you bringing to career day?"

    "And your golgappas," the waiter interrupted us once more.

    Zenphen glanced at my plate of fragile, chip-like puffs filled with a spiced diarrhea colored liquid and gave me a look. "You're ridiculing my pooris while you eat those?" In one hostile move, he picked up his bowl of dhal and guzzled it down, then stuffed three pooris in his mouth at once and chewed and swallowed as if he were on Fear Factor.

    This was getting ugly…fast.

    "I gotta go. Clearly, this isn't going to work out. See you around." He said it all in one breath as he stood up and attempted not to hit his head on one of the distinctively quirky chandeliers that was made from a cut out bundt pan.

    And, ten minutes later, I walked out of Spice Village…alone.

*

    "GOOD MORNING HEMP HIGH STUDENTS! Today is Career Day and we are bound to have some…um...awesome stuff for y'all to do today!" Bellowed Gorden over the loudspeaker. After our breakup, he had used his seductively deep voice to his advantage and taken on the morning announcements; this not only allowed the entire school to know that Gorden Perlman had the sexiest voice in the building, but also put me through the torture of listening to him. Every. Single. Morning.

    Before I knew it, Career Day had taken off, and I was rushing to my first class. And the teacher was a master chef…named Chase Gryzbowski. No way in hell was crack headed Benny's older brother a master chef.

    But he was hot.

    Smoking hot.

    Flaming hot.

    So hot he could cook food just by thinking about it.

    "Little bitchezzzzz!" He exclaimed as the last student stepped into the crammed classroom and the door slammed shut. "Imma make this maaaad quick. I ain't a masta chef. But. But lemme make this more fun." He turned to the black leather jacket that was carelessly flung on the desk and picked it up, revealing a pile of tiny bags filled with white powder.

    I shrunk further into my chair after seeing those. Cocaine for sure. Or some other kind of illegal thing that Benny was on. Or maybe it was just Kix. I prayed to God it was only crushed cereal.

    "It's fine," the guy next to me said. "Just take the bag and throw it out right before we leave."

    "Are you crazy? I'm not touching it!  What if he asks us to snort it? What if he ––"

    "Calm," he said, placing a hand with perfectly manicured nails on my shoulder.

    I looked up at this boy in shock. We didn't even know each other and he was already making a move. This was insane. Firstly, I hadn't worked things out with Zenphen and his food issues. Sure, Faeleb had promised to talk to him since they were in band class together, and Lydia made a deal to do some sort of crap to him and make him allergic to all Indian food (just to be safe), but I hadn't actually spoken to him in person since the poori debacle. And there was Hoytt, who still followed me around the same way Trixie followed band members. Now was not the time for some other guy to start coming on to me.

    But this guy…he was even hotter than Chase. He had the plumpest lips I had ever seen. Lips that would put Angelina Jolie to shame. And his hair was gelled back –– either that or it was dripping with sweat –– in the most libidinous manner passible.

    "Bitch, take the damn snow. Whatchu think you doin tryna bag this botox crap?  Take mah snow and lemme get on with my damn lesson!" Chase flung a tiny bag at me with such disgust that it exploded, immediately enveloping me in cocaine. "YOU WASTED MY FUCKING FOO FOO DUST, BITCH!" Chase roared.

    "Come on," Sexy Lips said, taking my hand and helping me out of my chair. "I'm not letting that ass get away with this."

    Sexy lips put an arm around me and ushered me out of the cocaine filled room. "I'm Hyundai Beck," he whispered through that perfect kisser. His lips looked so soft and plushy, I could fall asleep on them.

    "Bitch, you a car lemme ride you!" Kigurl suddenly shouted as she passed Hyundai and me. "Fuck kinda ghetto ass name is Hyundai?" She slapped my arm, winked, whispered, "I see you mackin," and continued down the hall.