Ain't Gonna Be the Same Fool Twice Read Online Free Page B

spoke.
    The girl turned her attention back to the phone. “Matthew, you’re nothing but a male chauvinist pig!” She slammed down the receiver.
    I couldn’t help but appreciate the way “chauvinist” had rolled off of her tongue. But this was no time to admire her French accent.
    â€œWell, I guess she told him,” Today whispered.
    I shuddered to myself. Maybe this girl was tough. Perhaps she’d descended from peasant stock.
    â€œYou have no right barging into my room like this!”
    Sharlinda nudged me. “She’s got the nerve to jump bad, now.”
    I found my voice. “You had no right to tie up the phone like that. You know it’s a party line.”
    â€œLook, I really don’t have time for this shit.”
    â€œWe don’t have time for your shit, bitch!” Sharlinda shouted.
    â€œYou’ve been pulling that breathing routine for over two weeks now.” Today sighed. “You need to quit.”
    â€œLook, I’m off the phone now. So, will you just go.” She waved her arms like she was shooing away pigeons.
    â€œNaw, Mademoiselle, we ain’t going nowhere!” Sharlinda insisted.
    â€œWe’re not?” I gulped.
    â€œNo, it’s too late for her to grip.” No, it’s not, I wanted to protest. Let her beg, so we can leave.
    â€œShe should’ve gotten off the phone when homegirl first asked her to,” Sharlinda continued. “Now, the shit done got funky.”
    Let’s not get technical, I thought. “She’s off the phone now,” I argued. “Let’s just order the damn pizza.”
    Today ignored me. “Didn’t you hear her say your ass is grass?” Then she elbowed me. “Right, Stevie?”
    â€œMy ass is grass? Does that mean the three of you plan to attack me now?”
    â€œOh, no, just her,” Sharlinda pointed.
    â€œDon’t worry, it’s gonna be a fair fight,” Today promised.
    â€œThis is crazy. Look, I’m not in the mood. So, please remove yourselves from my doorway at once.”
    I stood frozen.
    â€œOh, she’s really selling woof tickets now,” Sharlinda nudged me. “Your shit ain’t shaky, is it, homegirl?”
    â€œYou can whup a hoogie,” Today chimed in.
    I appreciated her vote of confidence. But what if this white girl descended from a long line of grape stompers? People who’d just as soon stomp your ass as make wine. And what if she freaked out and called security and I was arrested? I might even lose my scholarship.
    The girl walked toward us. I glanced into her killer blue eyes. It was obvious that she meant business. I sized her up as we faced off. We were about the same height, but she was quite a bit stockier. My stomach began to churn. My mouth felt dry. It would be just my luck for her to be a P.E. major, I thought.
    Why wasn’t this white girl acting scared? I’d never planned to hit her, just scare her. Why didn’t she just grovel and get it over with? Did Sharlinda and Today expect me to just grab her and start hitting her? It had been years since I’d been in a knockdown drag-out fight. The situation suddenly seemed absurd. It would’ve almost been funny if I didn’t feel my stomach tightening into knots.
    The girl stared me down. “Move, so that I can close my door.”
    â€œTell her to make you,” Sharlinda snarled.
    Miss Ann should be trembling, begging for mercy, pleading for us to accept her apology. Didn’t she have sense enough to be afraid of three black girls with Afros? Didn’t a person’s color mean anything anymore? What planet was she from?
    The girl reached for the doorknob. It felt like every hair on the back of my neck was standing up and saluting. It’s funny how certain situations make you aware that you even have hair on the back of your neck.
    â€œTell her to make you!” Sharlinda repeated.
    â€œMake me,” I