Daya

10|Wbu?

Harper invited me over for what I assumed was going to be a formal apology from Michelle, but she is not even home. I know this because when I walked to their front door her black BMW was not in its usual display place in the driveway. Her car is really the only car that shines there, while I only expect to see Harper's father Sean's navy blue corvette late late at night. As Rosa guides me inside Harper shoots me a text saying she's upstairs in her room because coming down and greeting me would just be too hard.

"She's crazier than usual please Daya calm her down," Rosa pulls me aside before I go up the steps.

"I'll try." Really I won't try unless she's over the top crazy which if they were the case Rosa would've asked if I wanted anything to drink. Harper must be really in a crazy mood because as I get closer to her room I hear talking.

"Daya!" Harper shouts as I open the door to her room.

She's sitting on her king size bed in just a black sports bra and Nike shorts. She only takes up a little bit of space on her light pink comforter the rest of the space is taken by 7 dresses ranging from the colors bright red to light blue. Oh brother, at least she has choices that she has already spent her money on.

Knowing my place I take my shoes off and sit criss crossed, but the sound of the toilet flushing in Harper's bathroom makes me jump up. After 2 minutes of the faucet running Navia Lenin walks out in a red tube top and lululemon leggings. "Oh right this is the first time you guys have met Navia Lenin this is Daya Price. Daya Price this is Navia Lenin," Harper gestures to both of us.

As I am still skeptical that they were both making out before Harper texted me Navia makes the first move and sticks out her hand.

"Nice to meet you, you have a brother right?" I shake her hand and try not to be the pissed off middle child.

"Yea Vince." Giving her the clue that I don't want to have a full on conversation I sit back on the floor. Navia twirls her two long French braids then sits in Harper's seat at her "work desk." This is something my dad would say, but at my house my work desk is the dinning table.

"Let's get started!" By this Harper means try on all of the dresses on her bed and some from her closet while Navia distracts her with conversation.

Harper unlike Vicki has a special connection with every dress that slides on to her almost stick like figure.

Navia like anyone in a new relationship only spills out compliments even when Harper tries on a purple long sleeve turtleneck dress that made me try really hard not to think of an eggplant. Saving Harper from trying to choose between all of these over $50 dresses I let the annoyed part of me intervene.

"Harper this one looks best on you and it will be easy to find shoes for." I pick up Harper's white fitted dress with silver straps that will enhance her c cups but it's not to fitting that it shows her lack of ass. Harper does a few sighs then sad glances at the rest of her dresses, like her mother doesn't have a bunch of fancy events for her to wear them to.

"Ok you're right," she says the words that I knew were coming.

This is how it's been with me and Harper since we met when we ate baloney sandwiches in preschool. I've always been the one to set her straight and for some reason she's always believed me.

We don't bother to put Harper's dresses back in their closet maybe because Harper is afraid she'll go back in there too, but I don't think that's possible the way she can't keep her eyes off of Navia's exposed chest.

Now it's approaching noon giving me 2 hours until my dad picks me up and drops me off at my mom's who has too much jet lag to come and get me. I'm sure she will use this excuse for about a week. Her jet lag didn't affect her ability to send me thousands of text regarding her trip to New York and the weather.

"Here you go ladies," Rosa places a plate of perfectly cut orange slices on the marble kitchen island where we sit.

Impressing me and making feel a tad inferior Rosa somehow managed to not have any extra juice from the orange on the plate.

"Who you texting?" Harper asks looking at me as I stare at my phone not bothering to pick up an orange slice.

"My dad," I lie.

Really I'm staring at a piece of white space with new message at the top and to Ziyah written under it. I've been contemplating sending, "Hey Ziyah It's Daya," but it seems weird for a Saturday afternoon. Then again he's probably getting high so me being one of those girls when I hardly know him is just a waste of time.

As Navia and Harper stick orange slices in their mouths like kids I send the text. That butterfly feeling that teens with crazy hormones get doesn't hit my stomach, but maybe you have to have some spoiled food to get that. I've always suspected butterflies in one's stomach was just indigestion.

After 40 minutes of my dad and I singing classics like The Police's "Don't stand so close to me," I arrive in Burbank at my mom's. My mom gives me a rundown of her day prior to going in her room and taking a nap.

As I join Dani and Vince on the couch to laugh at friends my phone buzzes in my striped wide legged pants. There the kind of pants that are so big on me they resemble the big suits in Kanye West's I love it video.

While shoving Vince to the middle of the couch I pull out my phone expecting to see a goodnight text from my dad, instead Ziyah's name appears.

Ziyah :Yo What's up?

Me: Nothing really just watching tv wbu?

I cringe at my use of that acronym and then the use of the word cringe.

Ziyah: Smoking

Ok so he is a pothead, and that blunt at the party wasn't just a one time thing. I kind of want to give him some facts about underage smoking, and the damage it does on one's brain, but I'm trying my best not to become my father.

Every once when in a while when he suspects Vince did some kind of drug, because he smiles too much or is a sore sport  we both get a huge lecture. Dani still being in elementary school is saved from these lectures, but she really only has 2 more years.

Not worrying if Ziyah leaves me on read for my lack of experience in teenage texting or if he decides to never ask me questions in French I text, By yourself or with other smokers?

Vince snatches my phone right out of my palms the minute the gray dots appear.

"Who the fuck is Zi-" Vince stops as a lightbulb turns on his head. "That lazy ass Pothead who gave weed to Jada?"

I totally forgot that Vince finds smoking unattractive, and a waste of time, just like Chase they both frown upon guys who don't spend their time lifting weights.

"Who gave weed to Jada?" My mom yells from the closed doors of her bedroom.

"What's weed?" Dani jumps in.

"No one and none of your business," I conclude.

"Hell no you can't be texting him he's a weirdo!" Vince clutches my phone and scrolls through my brief conversation.

"Why because he has dreads daddy has dreads." All the way to his back that are transitioning into becoming gray. Standing at 6 2" with a resting mean mug his dreads are really the aspect that scares kids when he walks through school.

"No because he's a pothead."

"The school is filled with potheads." First you have the notorious potheads like Jada, hookah Grayson, munchies Mario, and rehab Rico. Then there is the right amount of peer pressure potheads Unna on a really good day, Navia,and the rest of the school.

"So what if the school is filled with pothead you're not taking to one." I try to get my phone back, but Vince raises his hand in the air. Too bad he forgot he's only 3 inches taller than me making me grab my phone as Dani exits the room.

"I'm a tell dad." He argues.

"What I found a friend go ahead." Either Vince just wants to watch tv or he realizes I'm actually socializing with people and not staring at his friends so his arguing is a waste of time. Whatever his reason is we go back to watching tv, and I ignore Ziyah's text saying that he's smoking alone.