Dorinda's Secret by Deborah Gregory Page A

Henpecker’s Guide to Geography
. It’s the book Pucci’s father gave him for his birthday. I flip through the pages and look at all the places around the world I wanna see.
    â€œYou can have it if you want it,” Pucci offers.
    â€œNo, that’s all right,” I respond. I feel bad for him. I know what it’s like to get presents you don’t want. When I first got to Mrs. Bosco’s, Mrs. Parkay sent me a present on Christmas. It was some stupid stuffed giraffe, and I threw it in the corner behind the Christmas tree, because I didn’t want anything from her. Besides, what I really wanted was a doll wearing pretty clothes.
    The doorbell rings, and I hear Aqua’s and Angie’s voices cackling away. “I gotta go, Pucci, we have rehearsal now.”
    â€œYou gonna go to the Apollo again, right?” Pucci asks.
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œHow come they let you back in there, if you already lost?” he asks, his eyes opening wide. I chuckle, realizing he doesn’t understand.
    â€œThat was the Amateur Hour contest we lost, Pucci,” I say. “Now we’re gonna perform in the ‘Battle of the Divettes’ competition. It just happens to be at the same place, but it has nothing to do with the Apollo—you understand?”
    â€œOh,” Pucci says, fiddling with his computer. “You gonna have Cheetah Boys now? Can I be in the group?” Pucci flashes his mischievous grin so I know he’s angling for a dangle—a cheesing skill he learned from his older sister, no doubt.
    That’s all we need. Pucci in the group, with Tiffany, too—and throw in Twinkie for good measure. “Who knows?” I joke to Pucci. “Maybe Cuckoo will come onstage and perform with us, too—you know what I’m saying?”
    â€œYeah, right,” Pucci says, smirking.
    â€œI’m not playing, you know what I’m saying?”
    I hear Chanel calling me, so I run to the exercise studio, where we usually rehearse.
    â€œHi, Aqua. Hi, Angie,” I say, hugging the twins. I don’t get to see them as much as I see Chanel and Galleria, since we don’t go to the same school. They’re all wrapped up in talking about going home to Houston for Thanksgiving. I can definitely tell they’re excited about it.
    â€œI wish Daddy was coming with us, though,” Angie says, kinda sad. “We’re scared to leave him here with that High Priestess girlfriend of his.”
    â€œI know that’s right,” I chime in. I met their father’s girlfriend, High Priestess Abala Shaballa, and she does seem to be tripping in another galaxy, if you know what I’m saying.
    â€œThere’s plenty of time to worry about looking good in the ’hood, Miz Aquanette,” Galleria says cheerfully, tapping her foot like she’s ready to get down to the business at hand. “‘There’s always a new day in the jiggy jungle,’” she starts singing, “’so let’s not bungle our chance to rise for the prize, and show you who we are, in the jiggy jiggy jungle—’”
    We all sing along, since that’s what we’re here for—rehearsing our act, you know what I’m saying?
    I’m so tired by the time I get home from Chanel’s house that I head straight to my bedroom. Today’s rehearsal was exhausting—not only running through all our songs and dance routines, but having to keep my mind off everything that’s happening in my personal life. I’ll tell you, if I didn’t have Saturday’s competition to think about, I’d be going loony right about now.
    Just as I flop down on my bed, I hear Mrs. Bosco calling my name from her bedroom. “I’ll be right there,” I yell. Getting back up, I poke my head into Mrs. Bosco’s bedroom.
    â€œDorinda—that child called
again
while you were out.”
    â€œTiffany?” I ask, sighing, but what