Boy Trouble by Reshonda Tate Billingsley

go there and mess up the mood.
    â€œDid you see that outfit Kary has on?” Kennedi said, pointing across the hall. Karrington White, or Kary as those who tortured her called her, was one of the smartest girls at Miami High. A pretty Filipino girl with short brown hair and freckles that cascaded down the bridge of her nose, she desperately wanted to be in the It Clique. And although she had enough money, (her parents were big time in the finance business), the girl was weird. She dressed funny, like someone who just flipped through all the magazines, then bought the most popular stuff and threw it together with no style or thought. She always seemed like she was trying way too hard so nobody wanted to hang out with her.
    â€œEwww.” I took in her latest getup, a multicolor peasant skirt and ruffled shirt. “It looks like she raided the trash bins at New York fashion week,” I said as we headed to my car.
    I was going to drop Kennedi off at home before I went to the station. We were working on a story about Jason Richards, a married Miami Dolphins football player who got a seventeen-year-old girl pregnant.
    â€œWhy don’t you come to the station and hang out on set?” I asked her. I was really enjoying having the old K back and wanted to hang out.
    â€œNah.” She shook her head. “I always feel like I’m in the way. Plus, I don’t want to just sit there all evening.”
    â€œI just have to tape. I won’t be there long. Then we can go get something to eat.”
    â€œIn that case, cool,” she said. “It’s been a minute since we just kicked it.” She had just tossed her backpack into my backseat and was about to get in when we heard a honk. Both of us turned to see Kendrick’s Escalade pulling into the parking lot. I lost my smile and Kennedi’s grew even bigger. She didn’t say a word as she bounced away from my car and over to him.
    â€œHey, babe,” she said.
    He leaned out of the truck. “What’s up, beautiful?” He looked my way. “Hey, Maya.”
    â€œHey, Kendrick” was all I could force myself to say. If he was fazed, he didn’t let on.
    â€œWhat are you doing here?” Sheridan asked. It was so lame how she was acting like some sixth-grader with her first crush. I wanted to grab her, shake some sense into her, and remind her about Bambi.
    â€œI wanted to surprise you,” Kendrick said, pinching her chin. “I was hoping I didn’t miss you.”
    â€œYou didn’t.”
    â€œWell, let’s go grab some grub.” He motioned for her to get in on the other side of his truck.
    â€œCool.”
    I just stared at her. “Really? I thought we were going to get something to eat later.”
    â€œI’m hungry now.” She reached in the backseat of my car and grabbed her bag. “I’ll catch up with you later.”
    I just rolled my eyes and got in the car. So much for our boy code—BFFs before boys. Because both Sheridan and Kennedi had kicked me to the curb for two dudes who didn’t deserve it.
    I shook off thoughts of my traitor BFF and turned the radio to the hip-hop station as I made my way to the studio.
    I had barely sat down at my desk thirty minutes when I looked up to see Tamara walking in.
    â€œWe had some last-minute changes,” Tamara said, not even bothering to say hello. It wasn’t not that she was rude. Tamara was just always in business mode. She didn’t have time for little things like hello. “Jason’s attorney sent over a statement,” Tamara continued. “I had them include that in your report.” She handed me some papers. “I wanted you to be aware of it before you got on air. The changes are reflected in your script. Look over them now.”
    I took the papers, set them on my vanity table, and started changing into the outfit I would be taping in today.
    â€œAll right, I’ll get changed and look