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rolling up my window with the press of a button, shutting down any hopes of snatching up a new boo-daddy. “Wrong answer, girl. I don’t think so. I’m not checkin’ for none of them boys.”
    â€œUmm, hellooo ?” I snap a finger in her face. “I am. Just because you’re all stuck on lover’s island, doesn’t mean you gotta try’n sink my ship. Let my boat float, boo.”
    â€œWell, you can float it on ya own time, girl. I’m tryna get home. It’s bad enough I stayed behind waiting on you after school.”
    â€œOoh, don’t do it. I told you I couldn’t be late to homeroom. It isn’t my fault that old sea monkey, Mr. Evans, has it out for me. That man lives to do me in. ”
    She laughs. “Well, that’s what you get. You see I made it on time.”
    â€œOh, whatever. The least you coulda done to help ease my detention woes was pull over so I could find solace in the arms of one of them sexy thug-daddies.”
    She glances over at me. “Not today. Not on my time.”
    I roll my eyes. “Party pooper.”
    â€œWhatever. Talk to the hand. You’re too boy crazy.”
    I bat my lashes ’n’ feign insult. “Who, moi ?”
    â€œYes, you .”
    â€œI beg ya pardon. Never that! I’m not boy crazy. My boo juice doesn’t splash for just any ole boy, hun.”
    She laughs. “If you say so.”
    â€œOoh, ya messy behind’s tryna serve me.”
    â€œGirl, bye. Think what you like. I’m tryna keep you from a buncha mess.”
    I give her a look. “Uh-huh. Sounds more like you tryna call me a ho on the low.” I laugh. “And it ain’t no secret, boo. I know I am.”
    She makes a left turn onto Martin Luther King Boulevard, stopping at a light. I hear someone standing on the corner yelling out my name. I look. It’s one of my ex-boos. Jerrell. Ooh, he’s looking too damn fine for his own good. And mine. He isn’t one of the tallest boys I rolled around ’n’ got tangled up in the sheets with, but he sure was one of the sexiest. Deep, dark, delicious chocolate, mmph; need I say more? At five eleven, boo-daddy was (and still is) built like an African warrior. Chiseled outta soot. Dark like tar, but sweet like molasses. Mmm, yummy. And trust. What they say about the darker the berry the sweeter the juice, ain’t no rumor, boo. And it ain’t no lie, either.
    Oh, then why aren’t we still together?
    Uhhh, hellooo, hellooo . . . ding, ding, ding ! Because like with all the rest, I got bored with him. After about six weeks of feasting on his goodness, I dismissed him. Chile, cheese. He was tryna boo-bag me up ’n’ I was not havin’ it. What I look like, being wifed up? No, hun. Fiona Madison doesn’t answer to no boy. And she doesn’t commit to just one boy, either.
    I toss him a lil wave. He flaps his tongue out at me. I lick my lips ’n’ turn my head just as Miesha peels down the street. She swings a right onto Bergen.
    â€œFiona, girl,” she says, glancing over at me. “I don’t mean no harm, but you’re too pretty to be messin’ with all these boys out here. Don’t you wanna settle down with one boy?”
    I snap my neck in her direction, shifting in my seat. I look at her like she’s crazy. “ Whaat? Settle down? Who, me ?”
    She laughs. “Yeah, you . You know. Just chill with one boy, instead of having a buncha different boys all up in your face.”
    What? Girl, bye! Miss Chickie has let love soak her brain if she thinks I’ma ever be the settle-down type of chick. Ha! Chill with one boy? Never that. I don’t think so. Doesn’t she know every diva should always have a rotation of cutie-boos at her beck ’n’ call?
    â€œGirl, boom ! You have gone completely cuckoo-crazy. Why on earth would I wanna do some mess like that, huh? Boys are like