A Girl Like Me by Ni-Ni Simone Read Free Book Online

Burger King money on to fool me.
    I squinted my eyes at who I had just decided was an imposter and said, “I should punch you in the damn face for fakin’ the funk!”
    â€œWhat?” he stepped back.
    â€œYou ain’t Haneef,” I snapped.
    â€œThat’s Haneef,” Naja insisted.
    â€œHow do you know?!” I spat.
    â€œI can look at his booty and tell.”
    â€œHmph…good point…” I paused, turned around and looked at the driver standing outside of the crisp and gleaming black Hummer, holding open the back door. Then I looked at the two men, standing outside of the Lincoln town car, parked in front of the Hummer. They were so buff, they were either bodyguards, or hit men…So, maybe…maybe…this was…nope, I was trippin’.
    This was the hood; mofos don’t just appear around here, unless they’re filming a gangsta movie. So obviously, this was some bullshit. Somebody tryna be funny. I looked at whoever this was and wondered if I should let him pull this off, or cold-cock ’im in the face.
    â€œYou ai’ight, Li’l Ma?”
    I wanted God to stop playing before I really started to think this was Haneef. I sized him up with my eyes: six feet—check. Tattoo of his name on the right side of his neck—check.
    Jeeeeeeee’sussssssss! This was Haneef. Okay, okay…I had to calm down. I was gonna let the other birds go wild, but I had to get it together. After all, he was a nineteen-year-old boy. A boy?! There I was trippin’ again; this was a man. A grown ass man. One fine specimen of a man…
    â€œWhat you got, a boyfriend or something, Li’l Ma?” Haneef asked.
    Immediately that captured my attention. “What? Boy, don’t play with me.” Hell, at that moment, Jahaad didn’t count.
    â€œCool,” he pointed toward his Hummer. “So, can we chill?” he asked as the crowd grew and the screams escalated.
    I turned around, smiled at Naja, who was fanning her face, and mouthed to Ciera, “Hater.” I turned to Haneef and said as cool and calm as melting ice, “Yeah, we can chill.”
    I eased into the backseat, closed my eyes, and said a quick prayer. “Okay God, if this is a dream, don’t bother me with reality.”

SPIN IT…
    Track 7
    A s we entered the highway and blended into rush hour traffic, I thought of something: Suppose this cat was a stalker? I was so busy getting my groupie on that I didn’t even think about why this dude was showing up at my school, anxious to take me around in his Hummer like I was Kim Porter, Maneka, or one of them type chicks.
    I turned to him. “You know my mama gon’ be lookin’ for me.” I knew that was a lie, but heck, he didn’t have to know that. The butterflies in my stomach were killing me. I was so nervous, I was certain the words “sweatin’ like hell” were encrypted on my forehead.
    Haneef laughed and flipped open his cell phone, “You wanna call her?”
    I couldn’t help but blush. “Boy, I’m grown.”
    He laughed again. “Ai’ight, since you’re grown and everything.” He arched his eyebrows.
    â€œSo, ahhhh…” I said as we got on the New Jersey Turnpike heading toward the Holland Tunnel. “Why are you doing all of this?”
    â€œI’m always anxious to please a fan, especially since I didn’t see you backstage last night. I wanted to come hollah at you, and tell you that you killed it out there.”
    â€œThank you,” I swallowed, scared to look him in the eyes.
    Maybe he wanted me to be his protégée. Or perhaps this was a publicity stunt…or an offer for a record deal. Or both.
    But then again…maybe he found out I was a crackhead’s kid, felt sorry for me, and has a TV camera following us around. I turned and looked out both the back windows.
    â€œWhat are you looking for?” he