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Academy
    The Way I See It!
    HUSTLENOMICS/BABYWATCH
    Posted in uncategorized on October 20@12:02 a.m. by thedivaofdish
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    Hmm. Someone still fresh to the halls of Pace Academy has a part-time job braiding hair. I guess you thought I would say something droll like, is her rapper daddy on the repo list for his extravagant cars and jewelry. Nope. Actually I’m proud of her. Maybe she has more to her than clothes, lip gloss and the smell of Starr Lester’s butt on her nose.
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    Okay, baby watch is over. Pace Academy maintains its 0% graduation rate for teen mothers (side-eye on the total lack of reality on that). Anyway SHE isn’t preggers and has been carrying around a negative pregnancy test all day to prove it. One word, honey: TRASH. (I’ll leave it up to you to decide if I’m talking about her or the used pregnancy stick.)
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    Smooches,
    Pace Academy’s Diva of Dish
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    50 comments

eleven
    Dionne
October 21@5:47 a.m.| Mood: Scared
    Dionne was still trying to pinch herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. Her eyes went from her mother’s mouth moving a mile a minute to her father throwing in his dime whenever he got a chance. They both were teaming up to get on her. Now they want to get along, she thought, leaning back into the sofa of her father’s living room as they stood over her.
    Her mom was still in her hospital uniform, her two pairs of earrings clanging together overtime as she worked her head.
    Her dad was in his usual attire of denims and a black wife beater. Diamond chains swinging, denims hanging low, diamond grill in place, shades in place even though there wasn’t a bit of sunlight in sight.
    All of this because she’d asked for permission to spend the night at Starr’s tomorrow even though it wasn’t her week to be with her dad. Her mother casually asked why. Dionne casually answered that they were practicing for their new singing group.
    And, boy, did the ish hit the fan right then.
    One phone call to her dad and a wide-open ride to New York in their Honda and, ta-da, she was in the middle of a parent sandwich, catching hell from both sides.
    â€œWhat happened to you wanting to be a lawyer, Dionne? Huh? What happened?” Risha asked. “Huh? Huh? Huh?”
    â€œMa, pleeeaaase. Oh my god,” Dionne yelled, her frustration spilling over.
    Dionne clamped her hand over her mouth. Uh-oh.
    Risha’s arched eyebrow shot up. “Who do you think you talking to, Dionne?” she asked, completely fired up.
    Lahron stepped in between them. “A’ight, ladies. Chill. Just breathe and relax,” he said, his voice raspy.
    â€œI’m sorry, Ma,” Dionne began. “But you’re acting like me being in music group is going to change my plans. I can still go to college.”
    Risha threw up her hands. “Lawd, take me now,” she wailed dramatically.
    â€œRish, yo, let me holler at my daughter for a sec,” he said, hitching his pants up before sitting down next to Dionne.
    Her eyes went in between the two, raising her finger to point at both. “You’re right, your daughter. My little girl wanted to be a lawyer. Fix this, Lahron the Don, ” she said sarcastically before she reached down and flicked his Gucci shades from his face.
    â€œAin’t a bit of sun,” she muttered before she walked out of the living room and into the kitchen, still fussing.
    Dionne reached down and picked the shades up to hand to her dad. He took them and laughed as he set them onthe leather end table. “Your mama stays on ten. She always ready to blast.”
    Dionne smiled. “Always.”
    â€œYou almost got your head chopped off right then,” he said.
    â€œI’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be disrespectful.”
    â€œHuh. Group my behind. She better group them grades and get her butt in college if she know like I know. ’Round here, losing her mind, yelling at me. I can bring her