Almost Zero: A Dyamonde Daniel Book

1. Sneaker Heaven
Dyamonde Daniel was not jealous of anyone. Except maybe Isabel, a girl in her class who was born with a streak of white in her hair that Dyamonde thought was too cool. Plus Isabel was cute, with dimples you could swim in, which didn’t help matters.
Good thing I’m a better dresser, Dyamonde sometimes thought to herself. Not that she’d ever say that out loud. Dyamonde thought being mean was the most uncool thing in the universe.
Monday morning, she and Isabel were standing in front of school talking when Tanya, Tylisha and Tameeka, the three T’s paraded past like models on a runway, showing off their new matching hoodies.
Oh, puhleeze, thought Dyamonde. Free snuck up behind the three T’s, swishing his bony hips like he was a model too.
“Stop it, Free!” said Dyamonde, trying not to laugh. Free straightened up just as Tameeka turned around. Isabel covered her laughter by bending down to retie her shoes, and Dyamonde lowered her smiling eyes.
“Cool sneaks!” said Dyamonde, noticing Tameeka’s pink high-top sneakers.
“Thanks,” said Tameeka.
“Those come in red?” asked Dyamonde. Red was her favorite color.
“Yeah,” said Tameeka. “I saw some red ones at Sneaker Heaven.” Dyamonde’s face fell. Sneaker Heaven was expensive. She really liked those sneakers, though. Tameeka could tell.
“Why don’t you to buy you some?” tell your mom
“Huh?”
“Tell her. That’s what I do. If I need something, I tell my mom to get it.”
“You’re kidding, right?” said Dyamonde. Who ever heard of telling your mom what to do?
“No. I’m serious. I tell her nice, but, you know. She’s my mom, and it’s her job to get me whatever I need.”
Well thought Dyamonde, I guess that’s true.
“You should try it,” said Tameeka. “Just tell her you need some red high-tops. That’s it.”
Dyamonde nodded. Damaris and Free, who were standing nearby, traded looks.
“Don’t do it, Dy,” said Free. “If you do, your mom will pop you one. Guaranteed.”
“He’s right, Dy,” Damaris chimed in.
“Oh, puleeze!” said Dyamonde. “Shows how much you know. She’d never do that. My mom doesn’t believe in coral… in corporate… my mom doesn’t believe in hitting.”
“Okay. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Dyamonde shrugged him off. That evening, when her mom was in the living room reading the funnies, Dyamonde marched in and cleared her throat.
“Mom, I need some red high-top sneakers.”
“Is that a question?” asked Mrs. Daniel.
“Not exactly,” said Dyamonde.
“I really need you to get me some red high-top sneakers.”