With family like this, who needs enemies?
This is not how Maya Rogers hoped to get famous. First her boyfriend, Misalo, dumps her, and then the revealing photos that she sent to him go viral. Maya’s reputation is in shreds, and now she’s getting all the wrong kind of attention from guys in her neighborhood. How did life get so out of control so fast?
One answer: Viviana. Maya and her cousin were close once. But guilty secrets and long-buried resentments changed all that. Viviana wants to make Maya miserable by stealing away Misalo, but she may be stirring up more trouble than anyone can handle. At least Maya knows that her best friend Keysha always has her back. But with so much bad blood flowing, will these family ties be severed for good?
Back to Me
Earl Sewell
Acknowledgments
I want to say thank you to the following people for all their help with my endless questions.
To my editor, Glenda Howard, who has stood with me and who has been a champion of my career and this new series from the beginning. Thank you so much for your belief in my work and talent.
I have to send out an extra-special thank-you to Dr. Marcia Brevard Wynn. Thank you for all the encouragement and guidance you’ve given me. Your philosophy and thought-provoking insights on life and happiness have inspired me beyond words. You’re truly one of a kind, but I’m certain you already know that.
To Lauren Wynn, for taking the time out of your busy social schedule to read every teen book I’ve written and provide me with your feedback, comments and suggestions. They were truly helpful.
To Taryn Kingery, librarian, the Ralph Ellison Library, Oklahoma City, Megan Murray Cusick, Nancy B. Jefferson Alternative School. Thank you both for sharing my work and for encouraging young people to read. The world truly needs more people like you.
To my daughter Candice, I love you more than words can express. And to Ms. Jan Washington, thanks for the great brownie recipe.
To all who have discovered my teen titles and have either shared them with or recommended them to young readers, thank you so much for helping me spread the word.
Please feel free to drop me a line at [email protected]. Please put the title of my book in the subject line so that I know your message is not spam. Make sure you check out www.earlsewell.net and www.myspace.com/earlsewell. You can also hit me up on Facebook and Twitter. Just type in my name and you should be able to find me with little difficulty.
“Revenge only engenders violence, not clarity and true peace.
I think liberation must come from within.”
—Sandra Cisneros
Contents
One
VIVIANA
My cousin Anna had the height and the natural stride of a model. She was slimmer than most girls, and if you asked me, she had the beauty and personality that could land her on the covers of magazines. Anna and I were goofing around. She was trying on various outfits and pretending to walk a runway like Tyra Banks and Adriana Lima. I was playing music for her as she strutted back and forth. Anna then asked me to join her private fashion show, but neither one of us could stop laughing long enough to walk from one end of the bedroom to the other. We decided to have more fun by dancing. Anna set up her webcam so we could post videos of our foolishness on YouTube and some popular social networks. What I didn’t realize was that in addition to being very pretty, Anna could dance. If I were her manager, I’d enter her in a reality television dance contest. Seriously, she had some moves that left my mouth wide open.
“Oh, girl. You are tripping. You should be getting paid for dancing the way you do,” I said, feeling envious of how well she moved.
“I’m just flexible, that’s all,” Anna said as she got up and moved toward her dresser drawer.
“Didn’t you used to take dance lessons when you were little?” I asked, vaguely recalling hearing Grandmother Esmeralda praising one of her performances.
“That was years ago, when I was a little girl. Mom had me in ballet class and modeling classes. I wasn’t very good at ballet, so I tried modern dance, which was more fun. All of the dancing made me look more muscular, which my modeling coach at the time said was unacceptable. I stopped doing that stuff when I was around eleven.”
“Why did you stop?” I was curious.
“I was forced to choose between dancing and modeling, and I couldn’t, because I enjoyed both equally,” said Anna as she removed a purple belly dancer’s hip scarf from the top dresser drawer.
“What the heck is this?” I said louder than I intended to as I reached out to touch the silky fabric.
“Mom and I took a beginner’s belly dance class last year,” Anna explained. “It was only four classes, but I learned a lot and it was fun.”
Anna tied the scarf around her hips. She looked very cute in it. She reset her webcam, put on song by Shakira called “Hips Don’t Lie,” and right before my eyes she began working her hips just like the singer. She rocked those bad boys like a belly dancer, and the movements she did with her torso were nothing short of mesmerizing. About the only thing I could really do well was make my booty bounce. When Anna was done, she posted her video for the world to see.
“You