Uptown Dreams Read Online Free PDF Page B

ME? MEET ME @ R SPOT AS PLANNED. DON’T FORGET THE BEATS. GOTTA FINISH THE TRACK.

    â€œWho knows, B? You’re the only dude who seems to care about me now, so maybe I’ll finally audition for you,” she said to the picture of him she’d saved on her cell. Feeling better already, she puckered her lips and kissed the wind. Practiced for what she hoped would be a long evening, then quickly remembered that she couldn’t pull it off alone. She might need backup to avoid her mom repossessing her Get Out of Jail Free card. And there was one person she knew would help. Had to. Her home girl and best friend, Wheez.
    goin 2 meet b. may need u 2 cover 4 me. Reese blasted one last text message before going to hook up with her man to get her beats and kiss.

3
    ZIGGY
    T eachers, students, visitors, dancers, singers, actresses, musicians—all of the female persuasion—were tempting Ziggy as they made their way down the hallway. He didn’t let one pass without scanning her with his X-ray vision—his pretend Superman power, but, still, for him and his vivid imagination it worked as if it were real, and he was sure he could see all of their underwear. Bikinis, thongs, little lacy racy numbers that climbed cheeks and inflicted wedgies, even granny panties, he believed he could see them all, and he loved them all. Even the grannies. He shook his head, walking on the tile with confidence. Tryouts for the major dance competition were only a few minutes away, and he was ready. He had to show the judges—the school, the world—that he had what it took to shine and, hopefully, ballet and hip-hop his way into a scholarship and a part of the prize money. Harlem CAPA was expensive. He didn’t know how much longer he could get Broke-Up to hold down his vending table while he went to school, and his tuition depended on the sale of bootleg designer purses and burned CDs.
    His head turned left, then bounced right. He shook it in disbelief. Where did all these fine specimens come from? he wondered, barely able to walk straight. There was a sea of female pheromones drifting down the halls, and, happily, he was drowning in them. If only someone would look at him, give him a sign that they were interested so he could holler at them. As badly as he wanted to flirt, he was used to being prey.
    Before he could pick one girl from the crowd that he had to have, someone snatched him inside a doorway and slammed him against the wall, his back bouncing off of it with a loud thud. Like a flash, his assailant was all over him, covering his eyes with a hand. Though he couldn’t see, relief swooped through him. A dainty hand, all soft and warm, made him feel better. Figuring out his attacker was female made his heart dance instead of race. But who was she? Pulling the soft palm away from his skin, he still couldn’t make her out. She was too close and swift, and the vestibule was too dark. He hadn’t seen her coming, and really didn’t care from where she’d come. All he knew was that she was there, holding him hostage, and planting kisses on his cheeks and forehead like he was a baby, and she kept mumbling something that sounded sweet.
    She’d appeared out of nowhere like a ghost, but she sure didn’t smell like one, he discovered. Her aroma was delicious.
    Ah ... he thought, that’s how he’d be able to tell who she was. Her scent. Inhaling deeply, he drew the sweetness into his lungs. Vanilla-honey like pretty-girl Chance from one hundred thirty-eighth? No. Maybe it’s the softness of jasmine I smelled on La-La, the thin baby- face girl with the sultry voice? No. Or is it lavender like Moni, the bohemian-looking sista with the power to relax people like her scent? No again. Ziggy shook his head. The girl didn’t smell like any of the girls in his mental Rolodex. He shut his eyes tighter, hoping one turned-off sense would heighten another, and he’d be able to sniff his