Mama Dearest Read Free Page B

yelled.
    “That ho always tryin’ to start somethin’,” another woman said. “You betta put your wide behind in a chair and watch the show.”
    “I ain’t gon’ watch that white shit!” Sheronda snapped. “I want
American Star
. That’s
our
show.”
    “Yeah, turn it!” yelled another woman.
    Ava rolled her eyes. “Turn around and look. A black girl is stealin’ the show. Don’t be so prejudiced. The judges love her. Just look at the judges’ faces.”
    Sheronda pointed a finger at the dozen women sitting around the TV. “Last time I looked in the judge’s face, I ended up in this joint—”
    “Sit down and shut up!” Cheryl snapped, standing to face Sheronda. Cheryl was cool people. She was tiny, and her milk-white skin and spiky peroxide-yellow hair contrasted with Sheronda’s. But she stared down the bigger woman without an ounce of fear.
    “What you gon’ do?” Sheronda threatened, hunching lower to glare at Cheryl nose to nose.
    Good. Now Ava could see that girl sing on TV. The beauty of her voice raised goose bumps on Ava’s flesh. And when she sang the lyrics “your daddy’s rich,” Ava’s eyes burned with tears. She had sung “Summertime” in her cabaret show once. Ava was thinking that soon she’d be rich again too.
    Ava loved that powerful look in the singer’s eyes. Like she owned the world. Soon as she stepped out of this place, Ava would look at everyone and everything just like that. The singer was nearing the end of the song, and Ava leaned forward to hear every beautiful note.
    “Can’t none a’ y’all bitches watch!” Sheronda shouted. She stood in front of the TV, blocking the screen, reaching backward to wrap her arms around it. “How ya like me now?”
    Two dozen women rushed up like a swarm of bees, yanking Sheronda’s arms.
    Ava remained seated, hoping they would extract Sheronda in time to hear the end of the girl’s song and get the judges’ responses.
    Four guards stood around them.
    “Sit down or all of you will return to your cells,” the guard shouted. “Now!”
    The women obeyed. And when they dispersed, a TV commercial was playing.
    “Damn!” Ava snapped. “We missed it.”
    Beside her, Lyrical whispered, “Sit tight, I’ll take care of this bitch.”
    Sheronda shot a hate look at Ava as she crossed her arms, sitting with her group of bull-dykish broads who were probably lesbians. Ava suspected that all these women had some girl-on-girl tendencies. But she wasn’t about to stoop to muff diving, no matter how hot and bothered her body had gotten in here.
    No, she would let a man take care of all that, starting tomorrow. Whoever he was had better get ready to make up for all the lonely nights she’d had to take care of it herself here in prison. She’d almost lost her mind from the burning hunger—
    A flash of yellow and brown caught her eye.
    Cupcakes.
    They were arranged on a tray made of newspapers carried by Lyrical, who carefully walked toward Ava. The other women surrounded them. Even Sheronda, but her big ass probably just wanted a cupcake.
    “We’ll miss your ass,” Lyrical said, smiling as she offered the treats to Ava. “I made up a little rap I want to do for you after we eat. I call it ‘The Classy Mama Anthem’ and it ain’t got no curse words in it.”
    Ava’s heart softened. She could feel her face forming into an expression of shock. Everyone and everything around her was so hard. Yet this was such a gentle and sweet gesture. Even her own rap song, though Mama wasn’t a moniker Ava answered to.
    “We got the cupcakes out of the vending machine,” Cheryl said with a shrug. “The best we could do, you know?”
    Ava smiled, refusing to let the threat of tears show up in her eyes. She couldn’t get
that
soft. There was a tough world awaiting her and Ava knew it wasn’t for sissies. Her own mother had taught her that.
    “Take one,” Cheryl said. “You first.”
    Ava took a yellow cupcake with white frosting drizzled