Free Spirit

Crop Tops and Gum

"Oh Jesus, look at this," Kehlani shoved her phone in my face, almost hitting me on the nose.

"Calm the fuck down, K. You almost hit me," I laughed and steadied her hand. "You shaky bitch, I can't read this."

We were currently in a dressing room at H&M, the store that I, no joke, live and breathe for. It was a sunny Sunday afternoon in March. Living in New York, it was very rare that we were getting temps in the 60's this early in the year.

"Oh damn, fuck boy Hayden slid up? Well, I told you your ass looked good in that mirror selfie," I looked at her quizzically as she shoved me a little on my shoulder.

"You know exactly what to say, don't you, Nikki?" She took off the white bandeau she choose from a rack and threw it on the bench. A retail worker's nightmare customer. I grabbed the bandeau and smoothed it out. The fabric was nice, but there wasn't much of it. I grabbed the clip hanger and clipped the bandeau back on. I hung it up on a hook.

Let me start from the beginning.

So my name's Nikki. It's actually Nicole but that sounds too formal and gross in my opinion. Being obsessed with MTV and hip hop at a alarmingly young age, I wanted to take on a trendy name and become a backup dancer for any of those cool music artists. And the fact that I became acquainted with the wonderful Nicki Minaj, who I still, by the way, love, my six year-old self's mind was set. 'My name's Nikki. Yes, with two K's.'

I moved to Westchester when I was 13 years old. Honestly, it was a breath of fresh air. Literally. Living in NYC and breathing in that clogged air with fried chicken grease mixed in for an extra touch for years on end, you tend to want a little more in life. So my parents moved me and my sister, Brianna, to this suburban town, hoping to God we wouldn't turn out to be strippers or deal crack on the street corners of The Bronx. Yikes.

Anyways, life here got better and better as years went on. I was kind of shy and antisocial as an eight grader, mostly because I felt like I didn't belong. Everyone for the most part was wealthy and on the higher end of the middle class. We were just plain old middle class. My dad is an exterminator so the only reason why I got to go to a preppy middle school like Westchester Country Day was because my tuition was covered by his contract he managed to negotiate with the district.

It was rough to be quite honest. But I met Kehlani and Mallorie, my two best friends, and Brandon, a really sweet guy who was painfully cute in middle school and now is painfully HOT, but we will get into that later. They really helped me deal with middle school problems and constant bullies. I was still reserved and kept to myself but I slowly got out of my shell once high school started.

I joined art club, made into the top choir, theatre, and I ran cross country and track. I met a lot of new people and made a lot of friends. I wouldn't say I'm like popular or anything. Not that there's anything like that at Westchester High. All "social hierarchy" was basically obliterated because people realized how stupid it was to label and categorize others. Now, everyone does their own thing and we collectively don't give a shit about who's banging who and we stay in our lane. There's still drama and scandals obviously, come on, it's high school. But it wasn't nearly as bad as middle school.

"NIKKI, hey! You're in a trance, sweetums. Now, try on the outfit I chose for you," Kehlani slaps the pile of clothes next to her. I do what we call a "big sigh".

"Do not big sigh me. Come on," she hands me the clothes and I take it while rolling my eyes. All in good fun though.

I take off the peach scalloped crop top I was wearing and looked at myself briefly in the mirror with my peripheral.