Teenage Love Affair

Chapter 1

Daydreamin' 'bout you all day in school, can't concentrate. . .

—Alica Keys, "Teenage Love Affair"

Five Years Later, 2009

"Can't wait to get home,baby, dial your number. . ."

Zsa-Zsa

My Armani stilettos clicked against the tile floor as I placed my hands on my curvaceous hips and Naomi Campbelled to the front of the classroom. I was due to give a report of self-esteem, but after a week of sneaking out of the house and spending nights with my boo, Ameen, I had nothing prepared but my hair, nails, and fresh gear. So, I figured I would wing it. When I applied myself I got all As anyway, so why not apply myself now? Besides, I wasn't beat to argue with this old chick; I rolled my eyes toward my health teacher shot her fake smile.

The drama of getting Saturday detention for lack of preparation simply wasn't worth it.

"Miss Fields." My teacher, Ms Raymond, sat behind her desk and called my name. "Where is your paper?"

"I don't need it," was my attempt to play it off. " I can recite my report from memory."

Ms. Raymond's eyes narrowed. "Now, Miss Fields, if you havr memorized a report I will be quite impressed. So please proceed."

"Alright." I cleared my throat, pushed my gum to the side of my mouth, and popped my MAC-covered lips. "My report on self-esteem." I looked to one side of the classroom and then to the other. "Do you all know what it means to have a positive self-image?" I asked the class, only yo receive blank stares and dumb looks.

Pitiful.

But I would bet my last dollar if I asked them if they knew how to do the Pop-Lock-and-Drop-It or the Stanky Leg they would all be at military attention.

I sighed loudly. And to think this was Science High. "Listen, in order to get anywhere in life you have to be comfortable with who you are and know where you are going."

I looked around the classroom and everyone was obviously bored. Even my homeboy, Courtney was yawning. So, I had to bring it to 'em in the only way they would understand. "Excuse me." I snapped my fingers. "Do yall birds even know what self-esteem is?"

Seeing no response, I continued on. "Well, self-esteem is like . . . when you got it like that. Like, when you know that deep down inside you're really fly and it's not just a front for the cats around you. Dig?"

"Oh," one of my classmates yelled, sounding proud of himself. "It's when you got it goin' on."

"Exactly, you feel me?"

"Yeah, I feel you, Zsa," Courtney agreed.

"See, Courtney, we here." I pointed from my eyes to his and back again. "But understand we as young women and li'l dudes don't need to be playin' ourselves for these li'l ghetto hoods around here. We need to have dreams, explore our talents, and be determined to go to college. Plus these hoods around here, they don't have no money."

"For real" my newly emerged amen choir in the back of the room said.

I snapped my fingers. "They have no style."

"Um . . . the amen choir carried on.

"No fly gear."

"Tell it now!"

"No rides."

"Preach!"

"And for real." I was so into my report I had to stop myself from getting the Holy Ghost. "They can't do nothin' for you. So what's the use of wasting time on them when it's more important tgings in life to attend to? Don't be gettin' fooled by these donkeys lookin' to trick you outta ya li'l Burger King dough. Don't even do it to yourself."