All Pink Everything: The Ghetto Barbies Series, #1

By Lola Beverly Hills

Seventeen-year-old high school junior, Imani Cooper, always knew that she was destined to one day be the leader of her clique, the Ghetto Barbies. Now that she holds the power in her hands, she thinks that some rules within the circle need to be changed. Not only for her own benefit but for Bunny, the first pledge that she has ever initiated into the sisterhood. She comes to realize that being the Head Barbie is a greater responsibility than she signed up for...and secretly wants out.  Her fellow sister, Latrice, is a senior, and not so happy that the founding Head Barbie has graduated and chosen a junior in her place. Imani has always been into herself, and now she is letting her role as Head Barbie get to her Barbie head. She is ruining everything they built, and Latrice is going to do everything she can to bring Imani down from the stallion she rode in on...and steal her boyfriend.  Candy is in her last year of high school as well, but after turning eighteen, her priorities are much too complex to worry about who is running the clique. Her main focus is on graduating. Not only will she never have to deal with her thirsty ex-boyfriend again, but she will be free to date her young and handsome teacher without breaking school policy. In his eyes, she is just one of his many students...but she is determined to prove him wrong.  Each of them has their secrets, but when betrayal comes from within the sisterhood, they find themselves grasping at the mercy of each other to keep those secrets hidden. Barbies are supposed to be all pink everything, but when they get caught up in their own greed, will their eyes be seeing too much red to keep their loyalty?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lola Beverly Hills
• Release date: Mar 19, 2016
• ISBN: 9781393013952

Book preview

TWERK. TWERK. TWERK. The California sunshine baked Bunny's olive skin like a Smeg Symphony as she rotated her hips around and around in circles for the amusement of her peers. She didn't quite understand what grinding to a ratchet beat had anything to do with proving her loyalty in order to gain entrance into a social sisterhood, but as she clapped everything but hands, the Ghetto Barbies watched from afar with satisfaction from her efforts.

Latrice threw her arms in the air and whooped to the crowd, encouraging her to complete the last task of hazing period. Candy surveyed the campus behind her aviator shades, keeping a lookout for the security guards who would soon be following in the direction of the noise as she balanced a base-booming stereo on her right shoulder. The Hip Hop music that blasted through its speakers was the soundtrack to Bunny's show. Imani Cooper cracked a half smile, pretty in pink as she surveyed the campus of enthusiastic spectators. She was Head Barbie and the one that Bunny was eager to impress the most.

The Ghetto Barbies were a culture of black blondes that wore nearly nothing but pink. Pledging to be one was no laughing matter, despite the fact that most of their peers considered them to be a joke. First, the pledges had to do the homework of the big sisters for a week. It was far from easy, being a freshman who was already struggling in Algebra while now trying to tackle a junior's Algebra II assignments. Bunny and the rest of her competition had spent hours in the tutoring lab, getting their study on in the first week of school like they had a mountain of midterms on deck. By the end of the first task, six of the twelve girls had disappeared, and Bunny felt that she should have been promoted to the eleventh grade with all of the academic skills she had acquired in such a short amount of time.

The six of them who had made it to the second round then had to seek out a random boy in the courtyard and plant a kiss on his lips during lunch without warning. Bunny kissed Maxwell, only because he was a friend from middle school that had a little crush on her and she knew that she would have had the chance to explain to him later on. The rest of the girls bowed out, leaving Bunny alone to attempt the third and final task—twerking on a cafeteria table.

It certainly wasn't a traditional step show amongst sorority sisters, but the Ghetto Barbies were no traditional clique. They were Legally Blonde meets ATL with just a little bit of Set it Off. She wanted so badly to be a part of the group of blinging magenta-lipped girls that ran amok amongst the boys. It was just like a Black Friday sale at Toys R Us. All of them wanted one of those highly coveted Barbies and would stop at nothing to get their hands on one. As Bunny threw her ass in a circle, a square, a triangle, a rhombus, and any other shape she could think of, she allowed her eyes to sift through her audience, singling out which one she was going to let pull her from the shelves.

Being that she was the only one who had made it to the final task, she twerked for her life just knowing that within moments, she would be initiated into the sisterhood. Code Fuchsia! Code Fuchsia! Candy called out. That was the signal for her to hop off the table because the campus security guards were on their way. Bunny had been feeling herself so much that she didn't want to stop, but her mission was complete. There was nothing to do now but be rewarded. She ducked into the crowd as their excitement fast died down and they began to act cool and cordial. That quickly, everything returned to normal. The guards stormed through and surveyed the cafeteria table for the sole markings of Bunny's pink Converses, but they weren't going to find any traces of her.

You're a Ghetto Barbie now, sis, said Imani. Bunny took utter delight in her words. For the first time ever, she felt like she belonged somewhere. The sisters were her family now, and she was ready to give them her complete trust and provide safekeeping of theirs.

It wasn't long after she had been formally accepted into the crew, that some exotic Black and Indian cheerleader bitch had the nerve to step to Imani and aim for her head. She bobbed and weaved like a lightweight champion who had been in the ring on many occasion. That's for bumping into me this morning, you wig-wearing trick. Imani threw a hand on her hip, looked at the girl sideways and just shook her head. She wasn't short on words, she just didn't want to waste them.

Get lost, crow, Latrice spat.

We don't understand bird calls, Candy informed her.

Bunny closed her fists tightly, tensing with anger as the girl prepared to read them for their lives. After what these girls had just done for her, she couldn't just stand there and throw in a few more verbal jabs. She had to prove herself once more. So she leaped at the girl and began to play tug-of-war with her flaky scalp. Ow! she cried as Bunny clutched the ends of her long, black hair in her stubby hands.

Latrice dove in right after her, followed by Candy. They were willing to do anything they could for their leader, and Bunny felt ecstatic that she was the one who had taken the initiative to snatch this girl bald. She was petite, but that didn't stop her from rattling this silky-haired trick like the pompoms she exuberantly hoisted up into the air during sporting events. If her twerkapades hadn't landed her in the office, this did. Next thing she knew, she and the other girls found themselves leaning their heads against the wall of the counselor's office. One week's detention for the four of them. Bunny donned a few minor scrapes across her chin, Latrice had red handprints embedded in her arms, and Candy's ombre bob had become disheveled and lipstick smeared. As for the exotical, she would need a few more days to recuperate before she could even begin to do her time.

Imani got nothing. She was not scathed with even one scratch on her pretty face. This left Bunny feeling a sense of accomplishment. The clique had proven its loyalty to the Head Barbie and protected her from evil. Bunny, Latrice, and Candy took their slips and left the office where Imani stood outside waiting to check on her wounded warriors. Are you guys okay? she said with panic.

Don't worry, said Latrice, any scars we've got were worth it to make sure that raggedy-ass trick learned something today. She'll never come for you again as long as we're here. Imani embraced them with a group hug as Bunny began to worry. Latrice and Candy were seniors. They would be gone in a year, and then Imani would have to replace them with two more girls. It was then that she made a silent vow to be by Imani's side at every waking moment of the school day to ensure her safety.

The hour of detention had felt like an entire afternoon. Bunny had prior commitments. Instead of worrying about which homework assignment to tackle first, she was sitting in a salon chair deciding on which shade of blonde was best for her.

Ash blonde, said Imani. She was biased because it was her signature shade.

Beige blonde, suggested Candy. The tips of her bob complimented her mocha brown skin perfectly.

Fuck all that, said Latrice. Just go all out Marilyn Monroe like me.

Bunny weighed the pros and cons before deciding on golden blonde so that each of them would have their own hue. She fanned her head at full speed as the beautician's formula tingled and burned her scalp.

It's all going to be worth it, Imani smiled and said. I promise. Bunny put all of her trust in Imani, knowing that her mother was going to trip when she saw the flaxen curls that expelled from her crown. It was when the three of them surrounded her in the mirror that she knew it was for real. She was a Barbie now and looked the part. It was like she had been there all along.

If the day hadn't been eventful enough, she and her new clique sauntered into what was her first high school house party that night, hosted by a guy from the football team named Greg. Wearing a baby pink t-shirt that read, PLAYTIME IS OVER, she debuted her new look.

Bernice, is that you? Alyson's nostrils flared as she took in Bunny's all pink everything ensemble. She was one of those types who could not stop following the trend long enough to live. What is this? she asked, throwing her head back and laughing in Bunny's face. What on earth are you dressed as?

Bunny stepped one foot back and sized her up from head to toe. She had no room to talk, with those same medium wash overalls that she had been holding onto since the seventh grade. Vintage was in, and she hadn't hesitated to pull them from the back of her closet. I'm dressed as what I am—a Ghetto Barbie.

Alyson's brow rose high enough to touch her hairline before she bent over in another fit of giggles. "A Ghetto what?"

A Ghetto Barbie, she said quietly and awkwardly under Alyson's howls.

She leaned up against the nearby wall for support, grabbing ahold of her heaving chest. "Wait a minute. Are you trying to tell me that is not going to wash out? Girl, when I told you to do something to your hair, I meant to straighten it. Now you're only bringing more attention to yourself."

Bunny had just about had it. Alyson was one of those girls who considered herself to be accomplished as long as she was doing what everyone else was doing. She was nothing but a regular and a follower who didn't have a mind of her own and had some nerve finding amusement in Bunny's new identity. Alyson, what are you even doing here anyway? This is the kind of place where people come to have fun, but instead you're grilling me.

She kept a hand over her mouth to hide its curved corners because it was really that funny. "Trust, I couldn't be having more fun looking at you make a fool of yourself in that getup. Only in their little world would something like that be in season."

Bunny couldn't believe it. It wasn't even that she and Alyson were the best of friends, but her new look had many of her old classmates from middle school being completely standoffish. Even Maxwell stood off in the corner as though he was afraid to approach her. It was then that she began to realize—the Ghetto Barbies were outsiders, and all of those guys that had adored her in all of her hip-popping glory during lunch were now whispering about her from a distance. Did I make a mistake? she thought to herself as she looked around the room at all the staring faces.

She nearly jumped when she suddenly felt a hand on her shoulder. Imani now stood beside her, eyes burning into Alyson like infrared lasers, causing her to don an intimidated frown. "Let's see how much fun you have when I send the whole clique after you. When we get done with your Sarah, Plain and Tall ass, you'll be wishing you had half our flavor, but instead you'll be tasting blood on the inside of your teeth. Now, season that, bitch. Alyson stared blankly as Imani threw her a stare hard enough to be an SAT test. Her eyes switched rapidly between the two of them as if she were unsure of what to do next. After the way she had just dogged Bunny out, she wasn't going to be getting any sympathy. What are you waiting on? Go throw some spice into your life, and if you can't, the Barbies and I will do it for you. Alyson nearly ran off to the bathroom with tears in her eyes. Any qualms that Bunny had been having about being a Ghetto Barbie quickly subsided. Imani's right hand flew to her hip as her squint eyes followed Alyson to the bathroom door. Who was that FarmersOnly.com looking ass trick?"

Bunny flipped her newly bleached hair among the stares of her peers, letting them know that she didn't have a dime to spare on their feelings, let alone a dollar. Just some girl I used to go to Elmwood with.

Elmwood, huh? Well, obviously nobody was nice enough to inform her about how we do things at Melrose High. She should have gone after a clique. Then, she would have had a posse of loyal girlfriends by her side, and I wouldn't have been able to flip her self-esteem like a sausage link at Famous Dave's. That's what being a Ghetto Barbie is all about, Bunny. We pride ourselves on being different from everyone else, and we never let anyone come at a member of our crew without checking them on it. You stood up for me today, and I stood up for you. It's that simple. As long as you watch over the girls and me, we'll watch over you.

Bunny felt relieved as Imani ushered her in the direction of the Barbies. What was that about? Latrice said with an inquisitive stare. Imani gave her only brief details. She had learned early on that Latrice was one to escalate problems that didn't need to be escalated. Alyson had learned her lesson, and that was good enough. When Bunny was in a circle filled with love and loyalty, she no longer cared about what anyone else thought about her. She was now a part of a sisterhood—a bond she thought for sure would be unbreakable.

1

Wear Pink

MORRIS OWENS was taunting her again. He had some nerve to look as good as he did, with those muscled arms that he had garnered from playing on the basketball team. Imani couldn't see his frontal at the moment, as he sat in front of her in Ms. Collins' Art class, but she could have drawn his face perfectly from memory. He resembled a chocolate Will Smith with that '90s fade that nobody else was rocking on the West Coast. She had spent the entire morning skimming through his social media profile while he and the rest of their classmates fawned over some dumb art display in front of the classroom.

Imani hated art. She had only chosen it for an elective because she knew that it was one of Mo's many acquired skills, and trying out for Varsity was out of the question. He didn't have just a gorgeous face and the potential to one day take his talents to South Beach. He had a brain, which she loved and hated him for. If he were just as dumb as all the other guys, she would have been able to seduce him in the ninth grade when she had first begun her desperate pursuit of him.

Even when he got with Crystal Neighbors during sophomore year, it only made her fight harder to get his attention because she didn't see it possible for him to fall in love with her. For one, her style was all wrong. In fact, she couldn't have been saved by all the wardrobe stylists combined with all the hair stylists teamed up with all the makeup artists in the world. Imani had often heard guys say to each other that they wanted a girl who could be laid back like one of the guys, but Mo had taken that stance to the extreme. Who wanted a girl whose clothes were baggier than his? They for sure weren't rocking that gutter look on any of the runways overseas, but he was still smitten with her. It made Imani livid that someone who couldn't even be standing in third place in anyone else's beauty contest had won first prize in his.

Imani on the other hand, was fabulous. Ghetto fabulous. Those may not have been diamonds in her ears, but they were definitely blinging like the real thing. Luscious blonde hair confined her head and a shade of strawberry pink made her lips look like sweet sugar. A pink slip dress showed off her model-thin frame, which most of the boys didn't mind because she had long been established as the twerk queen despite what little she had to work with. Not to mention her banging personality. A party didn't start until she walked in. Imani knew how to enjoy herself and any guy that accompanied her would have the time of his life too.

As far as Crystal was concerned, she liked art, apes, and books. According to Mo, that was supposed to make her different from the rest of the girls because she knew how to work her brain instead of her body. Imani was convinced that Mo gained satisfaction from seeing her at the mercy of his love and wanted to leave her grasping for his affection before he finally gave it to her. His mind games didn't faze her, and as Ms. Collins dismissed the class to begin their assignment, she was quick to let him know.

Chill, he said, brushing her dainty hand off his shoulder when she tried to get his attention.

Look at me. She thumped the back of his head in an effort to get him to do so. You know you want to. Mo finally turned around, but his upper lip curled sternly as though he were inhaling the smell of fresh fish. Imani didn't care, because it only reminded her that the pictures on his social profile didn't do him any justice. The only work of art she was trying to study was him. Like my lipstick? she asked as she licked her lips seductively, hoping to render herself a work of art in his head as well.

Imani, quit.

She shook her head with a determined quickness. I'm not quitting until I get what I want.

Psssh, was all he gave her before he turned around and exchanged perturbed looks with his friend, Adam. She didn't know exactly what he and his friends were saying about her behind her back, but she had a vivid idea. They probably thought of her as the campus ho, which was ridiculous because she had only slept with one guy. She had locked lips with more than a few, but when it came to giving up her good good, she didn't play that. Imani had to admit that she did have a deep thirst for attention. It felt good to be noticed, especially when she made such an immense effort daily to be fly.

Her style was owed in part to the Ghetto Barbies. Her founding sister, Kendra, took her in, nurtured and groomed her for two years, then appointed her Head Barbie when she graduated last spring. Imani was honored to take over the reigns and vowed to keep the sisterhood alive. No one else understood them. They thought the Ghetto Barbies were all about bubble gum, blonde hair, and pink lipstick. It was more than that. Being a Ghetto Barbie was all about risks, which was why she had taken the chance of being bored to tears in an elective that she hated just to be closer to Mo. None of her sisters were there to join her in suffering, as none of the guys they were into liked art. There was nothing worse than a Barbie without her sisters. She can't do the things I can do, Mo.

Imani could tell by his long pause and the smirk on his friend's face that he was rolling his eyes hard enough for them to flutter. I don't get it. Aren't you with dude?

She swatted her hand at him, insulted that he would take her relationship status with anyone else seriously. He was only talking about Ralph from the Thug-a-Boo Crew. He had been pining after her since the ninth grade and had always been there to give her the attention that she desperately ached for. Plus, he helped to fulfill her obligation to the Barbie rules. Long grace periods between relationships were expressly forbidden. They were not allowed to be single for more than thirty days because, as Kendra had once said, Every Barbie needs a Ken.

So while she waited for Mo to come around, Imani decided to stick with Ralph for a bit. She hated the meaningless tattoos, swap meet grills, and pants that hung lower than his grades, but she cooperated because she had to set an example for Bunny. Being Head Barbie meant that Imani had a higher responsibility. It also meant that she had to learn to control her thirst, so she left Mo alone for the rest of the class period. When they walked outside, Crystal was waiting for Mo and Ralph was waiting to walk Imani to her next class. She played cool like Mo meant nothing to her, but as he scooped Crystal in his strong arms, she pretended the firm grasp that Ralph had on her right cheek was his instead.

She was eager to get to second period Creative Writing because she finally had someone to vent to. Candy was already in her seat, jotting down a few words in her notebook as she showed off a seldom occurring grin that rivaled Velveeta. As soon as she saw Imani, she held the page up to her face. Tell me what you think of this.

Imani sat down and skimmed over it. The hell is this?

It's a poem, silly. It was assigned yesterday.

Imani couldn't give two packs of Yaki about a homework assignment. She could only write about the happy times anyway, and right now all she had was the Mo' Better Blues. She let her bag slip off her shoulder and fall to the floor with a thud. Candy, I saw the most sickening thing this morning.

A deep sigh escaped Candy's lips as she prepared to read Imani for her life. Don't tell me, she said, Mo committed the crime of kissing his girlfriend in front of you.

She had a way of making the troubles in Imani's life seem small and trivial, but this was a matter that was continuing to eat away at her heart. I don't get what he sees in her. She kept her voice to a