4. Noree Marcell
“BITCH, WAKE UP!”
I groaned and pulled the comforter over my head, trying to block out the screaming, the sunlight, and whatever foolishness was happening in my bedroom right about now.
“Wake up!” my sister shouted even louder than before, damn near bursting my eardrums as she jumped on my bed.
“Nourah, get the fuck out!” I shouted back from underneath the covers, but she kept jumping. “I didn’t give you a key to just come in whenever, especially not to wake me the hell up.”
This heffa was putting her whole body into it like my bed was a trampoline.
I reached from beneath the comforter, blindly swinging my hand through the air, hoping I connected with her leg or ankle, but she hopped off my bed just in time.
I sat up with one eye open and the other closed, then had to fix my damn titties since they had gone every which way inside my nightgown while I was sleeping.
Nourah stood beside my bed, cheesing and giddy as hell. I was confused.
I blinked at her before wiping my eyes. “What is wrong with you?”
“You won!”
I frowned. “Won what?”
“You won, bitch!”
“Won what???” I repeated, throwing the covers off me.
Since I was off today, I had planned on sleeping in. I didn’t have an alarm set, didn’t have anywhere to be, and damn sure hadn’t planned on waking up like this.
“You won! You won!”
“Nourah, if you don’t tell me what the hell you’re talking about, I’m going back to sleep.”
“The contest!” she screamed.
I stared at her, growing more annoyed by the second.
“What contest, Nou Nou?” I called her by her nickname, my lips pursed, arms folded, and eyes zoned in on her.
“The Ozy Love contest.”
That woke me up fully.
My mouth opened, but no words came out.
Nourah screamed again, hopping back onto my bed.
“I had been refreshing that damn website all morning,” she said, breathing hard.
“Every five minutes. I almost gave up, but then the page changed, and I saw the list. Biiitch! Your name is on there! I called you like twenty times, but you didn’t answer, so I put in PTO for the rest of the day and rushed over here. ”
“Stop playing with me.”
“I’m not playing!”
“Nourah, are you telling me I’m about to get to spend three days with Ozy Love?”
“Mhm! Look!” She shoved the phone toward me.
I snatched the phone clean out of her hand before she could even react, holding it close to my face.
The Ozy Love website was open. Across the top was a large picture of him from his latest shoot, dressed in all black with his chains resting against his chest and that arrogant look on his face.
Below his picture, bold letters stretched across the screen.
CONGRATULATIONS TO THE SIX WINNERS OF THE OZY LOVE WEEKEND EXPERIENCE.
My eyes dropped to the list beneath it.
The first name wasn’t mine, and neither was the second. By the time I reached the third, my hands had already started shaking.
Noree Marcell. I stopped breathing.
“Oh, my God.” My whole chest went tight like somebody thought I was a lemon and was trying to make damn lemonade. Cheesy, I know, but that was how I was feeling. “Oh, my God, Nourah.”
“I told you!”
I kept reading, my eyes moving quickly down the page while my hands shook slightly around her phone.
It said the winners had twenty-four hours to confirm and respond to secure their spot, or they would move on to an alternate.
Once confirmed, they would send over the full itinerary and NDA paperwork.
Three days.
Three whole days!
I dropped the phone into my lap and looked at Nourah. She looked back at me, and neither one of us said anything for a second.
Then, we both lost it at the same time, screaming so loudly I knew the neighbors heard us through the wall.
“We was just there!” I screamed. “Right up front, close enough to see the sweat on his face, and now they telling me I’m about to be in a room with his fine ass? Like an actual room, with no barricade between us?”
“A room, bitch! I’m talking body-to-body! I’m talking meeting in my bedroom!” Nourah screamed. “Ooo, bitch, I’m jellllly!”
I flopped back onto the bed; my hands pressed over my face as I cheesed into my palms because I could not believe this was my life right now.
“Best birthday weekend of my whole life,” I said, sitting back up. “Thank you for entering me in the contest, sis. For real.”
She got quiet for a second, and I could see her mind working. Then, her whole face lit up.
“What?”
“Sooo, I was thinking… you definitely gotta wear one of my pieces. You gotta be the baddest bitch up in that building all three days, sis. Like, when you walk in there, I need people looking at you like, ‘Who dressed her? Who made that?’”
I laughed, but she wasn’t playing. I could tell by the way she hopped straight up off the bed.
“Nourah, I don’t even know if there’s a dress code yet. And—”
“Don’t matter! I got options!” she shouted, then ran out of my room.
I grabbed my phone and pulled up my email. I almost fainted when I saw a message from his team, making shit official as hell. I skimmed over everything, mumbling as I read it to myself. Then, I saw the huge confirm button at the bottom and clicked it so damn fast, I damn near bent my finger back.
My cheeks grew hotter than a forest fire as an automatic email came through with all the forms I needed to sign.
Nourah came bursting back through my door with her arms completely full. She had a bunch of shorts, tops, dresses, and all kinds of shit piled in her arms.
“Okay,” she said breathlessly, dumping the whole pile at the foot of my bed. “We got work to do.”
She grabbed her phone and connected it to the speaker near my television.
“What are you doing?”
“Uhhh…we cannot style you for an Ozy Love weekend without playing Ozy Love. Come on now,” she teased.
Seconds later, the slow beat of one of my favorite songs by him filled my bedroom.
Girl, let your hair down, baby,
You deserve a hundred rounds, baby.
I could take you from your nigga, baby,
Have them legs wrapped around my waist, baby.
Nourah sang into her fist like it was a microphone.
Tell me all your dreams and aspirations,
I’ll tell you which way I’m gon’ lay you…dowwwwn.
“Girl!” I screamed, laughing as she rolled her hips and tried her best to imitate Ozy’s runs. “Shut up.”
“Don’t act brand-new. I might can’t sing like you, but I can hold a lil’ note or whatever. Besides…they coming to see me. Ain’t nobody coming to see you, Otis!”
I laughed so hard my stomach hurt. “Whatever. Less talking, David Ruffin, and more measuring. I’m excited!”
I looked down at the mountain of clothes she had thrown in front of me, then back up at her. I couldn’t do anything but smile.
“You already know how I’m coming. Nobody else in that building will have my baby sister’s touch. With Bodied By NouNou on my body, all them other bitches might as well just go home.”
“Hello!” Nourah shouted. She grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the edge of the bed. “Now, stand here so I can get your measurements.”
“Ooo, wait! I have to finish signing these forms his team sent over. You go grab us some wine and wine glasses from the kitchen.”
“Bet.”
She went to run off, but I stopped her by calling her name.
“Yeah?” She looked over her shoulder at me.
“Thank you. I’m really grateful to have a sister like you.”
She winked at me. “Don’t mention it. Now, you sign, and I’ll pour. Okuuur!”
I snickered as she ran off singing.
“Layyy you down. Can’t wait to get you in my bed, can’t wait to get up in ya head!”
I plopped down in my computer chair in front of my computer and got to work downloading and signing everything.
This time tomorrow, I’d be face-to-face with…Ozy Love.