Now is the appropriate time for a blank stare.
“I’m Melody Brookstone. Something tells me we’re going to be BFFs by the end of the summer.”
I give her my friendliest smile. “Cool! Are you going to the barbeque?”
“Yes, even though I don’t eat meat.”
A real live vegetarian. Wow on top of wow.
“Is this your first summer in the program?” I ask.
“It’s my second year.”
“So you know a lot of people already?”
Melody nods. “Some, but I try to keep my clique intimate. More people equals more drama.”
“Don’t I know it,” I say in agreement. “I need this summer to be drama free.”
“See!” Melody exclaims. “I knew we were going to be close.”
Truth be told, it is my turn not to have drama. My high school years have been drama to the infinite power. I’ve had a shoplifting little stepsister, frenemies, unsuccessful makeovers, boys playing me out, and friends with half-naked pictures posted on Facebook.
So seriously, can a sister get a break?
My phone buzzes in my purse. Before I even look at the caller ID, I know it’s my mom.
“Hi, Mom,” I say.
“Gia, why haven’t you called to let me know you’re safe?”
“I’m sorry. I was just about to call you. I’m in the dorm now with my new roommate, Melody.”
“Mmm-hmm. Don’t make me get on a plane and fly up there, Gia. You better keep in touch.”
“I will, Mom. But I’m about to go to a barbeque with all the students and the resident advisers. So can I call you back?”
“Yes. Have fun, okay, and tell Ricky I said hello.”
“I will.”
I press “end” on my phone and open my suitcase on the little stand at the end of my bed. Melody walks over with a look of interest on her face.
“What are you going to wear?” she asks.
“I don’t know. What’s appropriate?”
“You should probably go with resort casual.”
Resort casual? What in the world is the difference between resort casual and regular casual? I need an answer pronto. This is soooo not a rhetorical question.
Melody laughs. I guess she can tell by the befuddled expression on my face that I’m completely clueless.
She starts pulling clothes out of my suitcase. “These khaki capris and this pink baby tee. This works. Do you have any heels?”
“Heels? I have flip-flops. Is that resort casual?”
Melody’s eyebrows rise almost all the way up to her hairline. “Flip-flops? Have mercy on my soul. No. You may not wear flip-flops. Please tell me you have an acceptable pair of sandals.”
“I do have a few pairs.” I toss the shoes into the center of the floor.
Melody taps her chin as though in deep thought. “These will do,” she says as she picks up a pair of Nine West wedge heels that Hope put in my luggage. “Do you have a bag to match these?”
“I have this little pouch and a mini backpack.”
“There’s no time to go shopping, so I guess you’ll have to borrow one of mine.”
Why is it that everyone wants to give me a makeover? Why can’t they just allow Gia to be Gia?
“I’ll pass on the bag, Melody. My backpack works for me.”
Melody looks totally wounded. “Sorry. I just wanted you to look hot for the barbeque.”
“I really appreciate you for that, but I’ve got my own style.”
Melody plops down on the bed. “Was that too much? I can pump the brakes if you want.”
“It’s cool, Melody. You can pick out a bag for me just this one time.”
“Really?” She claps her hands together, jumps up, and hugs me.
“Umm, Gia…you need a shower, sweetie.”
I burst out laughing. “Pretty much. I’ll go handle that, and you can choose a bag while I’m in there.”
I’m glad for the shower and a few moments away from my brand-new BFF. It’s funny—I’ve never made friends with anyone this quickly, but this Melody Brookstone seems determined to have me in her clique.
After I’m fresh, clean, and dressed, I turn around in a little fashion-model pose for Melody.
“A great improvement,” she says as she hands me a big leopard-skin purse.
“Leopard skin? This doesn’t match anything I have on.”
“Oh, you don’t have to match your bag anymore, as long as it’s hot.”
“If you say so.”
I rub my tummy, which is definitely on empty. I haven’t eaten anything since the little pack of peanuts the flight attendant gave me on the plane.
“Are you ready to go now?” Melody asks.
I’m about to say yes when my phone rings. The caller ID says “Hizzle-Pizzle.” Ha! That means it’s my cousin Hope. And you know she was furious when she found out about her nickname in my address book.
“This will take only a sec,” I say to a now-impatient-looking Melody. “Talk to me,” I speak into the phone.
“Why have I not received any texts or Facebook messages yet, Gia? What’s up? You are supposed to be keeping me posted.”
“I’m sorry. I’ve been a little busy since I got here.”
“Well, you need to get unbusy and tell me what’s going on,” Hope fusses. “Have you met anyone cool yet?”
“Yeah, my roommate, Melody, this girl named Sienna, and a cutie named Rashad.”
“Rashad Moore?” Melody asks.
I nod at Melody and listen to Hope squeal. “A cutie? What’s up with him? Wait a minute, what’s up with Ricky?”
“Rashad is cool, but I haven’t gotten a chance to know him yet. Ricky is, you know, Ricky. It’s all good.”
“Oooh, drama! Gia, I never pictured you being a female mack, but it’s possible. Was Ricky hating on the new dude?”
“Is Tweety bald and yellow?”
I hear Hope suck her teeth. “It would be too much for you to answer a question with a simple yes or no, wouldn’t it?”
“You know you like being treated to my wit.”
“Whatever, Gia.”
Melody clears her throat and flares her nostrils. She mouths the word barbeque to let me know she’s ready to go.
“Okay, Hope, I’ve gotta go to this barbeque thing with my roommate. She’s waiting for me. I’ll call you later.”
“You better not forget, Gia.”
“All right, bye.”
“It’s