She's Gotta Have It Page #3

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This better be good.

It's going to be.

Two, three.

There's no place like home.

There's no place like home.

Hit it.

There's a girl

that I once knew

Who often had

a friend or two

She gave them time,

love wit and rhyme sublime

They would come

from far away

And often gather

there all day

To show their love

and see which one would stay

But to her it mattered not

For loyalty was not her lot

Her answer was for

not for them to know

There she goes

on her merry way

Though she's only

queen for a day

Boy and girl

often take this whirl

So you'd better mind

what you say

My advice to you, my friend,

is try to find what it's about

And then you take

into account your role

Do not take some sugar in your

mouth that may be sweet to you

But bitter in

your stomach later on

What is good for you

may not be good for me

So different stroke

for different folk

Could be a real good rule

There she goes

on her merry way

Though she's only

queen for a day

Boy and girl

often take this whirl

So you'd better mind

what you say

Now it's time to bid adieu

It's been a pleasure

knowing you

I'll see you when it's time

to meet again

This is the sweetest birthday

I've ever had. Thank you.

Where'd you get

them from?

I know the dancer.

It's beautiful.

Make a wish.

How much did you

put out for the dance?

Not much.

Jamie, I loved it, but I know

it cost you. You didn't have to.

I'd starve a week

for you any time.

Let me give you half.

Uh... No.

Are you sure?

Sweetheart,

it won't break me.

Suit yourself.

Would you get

that for me, please?

Yeah.

Give me.

Good evening.

Yo! Happy birthday,

Nola. It's me, Mars.

Thank you.

But I'm sleeping.

Sleeping?

This is your birthday, Nola.

Let me ride my bike over there.

In five minutes we can celebrate.

It is late. Come on, call me in

the morning. I'm really tired.

In the morning it won't

be your birthday, Nola.

It's not my birthday

now, if you notice. Nola.

What?

Nola?

What?

Just let me smell it.

You are ill.

Please, baby. Please, baby.

Please, baby. Baby, baby, please!

Good night.

Good night? Wait, wait

a minute. Is Jamie there?

F*** that girl.

What up?

Yo, Roxanne! What up?

I've been thinking about you.

Who was that?

Mars.

What did he want?

He wanted to come over and wish me happy

birthday, but I told him it was too late.

Too late?

Why didn't you tell him

you were with me?

What do you see in Mars?

I don't consider myself a

poet, but I do like writing.

And Nola likes poetry.

So I would write her poems

whenever she needed them.

The first one was the best.

"Remembering the first time my eyes

found you gives me a private joy

"As deliberate and provocative

as the privacy of your touch

"You see, you have me now, as you easily

had me that first warm day in spring

"Elegant and rich you seemed

"Majestic in persona,

vulnerable in form"

"I was taken

"I have since been inspired

by your needs and courage

"and made full by the

warmth of your laughter

"You have allowed and guided

me into your heart gracefully

"Timing, you say?

Yes, timing

"The eternal rhythm

of natural love"

That's the worst piece

of sh*t I ever heard!

And Nola fell for it, too.

I don't wanna badmouth the brother,

but his poetry is not the answer.

Jamie ain't got no rap.

He's like ice cream

on a summer day. Soft.

Now, if Nola

had been righteous

and correct the way

she's supposed to have been,

she would have

known true love. Mine!

Nola. Nola. Nola. Nola.

Stop, stop, Nola, stop! Stop!

Nola, are you up?

Yes, I'm up.

You awake?

I'm awake.

You up?

I'm up, Mars.

Can I ask you a question?

Yeah, go on.

It's okay?

It's okay.

Yeah, okay.

Am I as good as

Jamie or Greer?

That's the dumbest question

you've ever asked me.

Dumb?

You know, I've been

thinking... Don't think.

Nola, I think I love you.

I know I do.

We are not in love.

We're in like.

You know, I warned you from the

beginning, but you wouldn't listen to me.

If anything you're in love with my

love-making. So don't mess it up.

Don't mess it up?

Squash it then, okay?

It's squashed.

It's squashed?

Yes.

Good. Later for you.

Nola.

Nola.

What?

Did I ever tell you about the

time I used to be a superhero?

No, I must have missed

that one. Missed that one?

Yeah. I'm gonna tell you anyway, okay?

Okay?

Yeah.

Okay. Don't peek.

No peeking at all.

Okay, turn around.

I used to be Panty Man.

You smell something?

Now, do Jamie or Greer

make you laugh like this? Huh?

No, they don't, but they don't put

my panties on their heads, either.

That's true.

You know, if I can make a babe

laugh, I'm over like a fat rat.

And when they

stop laughing, I book!

Uh-huh. We shall see.

Yeah? I leave.

You know, it's been a while since you

greased my scalp, you know. Hint, hint.

Go get the comb and the

oil, and I'll do it for you.

You'll do it?

Yeah.

Yeah? Okay.

When was the last time

you washed your hair?

The other day.

The other day?

It's not clean?

Mmm-mmm.

It's dirty? It's got an

awful lot of dandruff.

God.

I just washed it.

Okay.

You know, Nola?

What?

You should trust me

with your secrets.

Why should I trust you?

If you can't trust Mars

Blackmon, who can you trust?

Trust you with what?

You know, your secrets. Your

stuff, like Jamie and Greer.

Not again.

You know, I don't see what you

see in those two Joe neckbones.

Have you ever taken a look

at Jamie's head?

He has a f***ing 16-piece

Chicken McNugget head.

And Greer? Look at his hair. He's got

that slicked-back sh*t! What is that?

Lower. Right here. Right here. There?

Yeah, right there.

There?

Yeah. Ah.

This is better than boning.

Oh, really?

Yeah, serious, get rid of

those two Joe neckbones.

You're finished.

Finished?

Finished.

You did the whole scalp?

The whole scalp.

You greased it?

I greased it.

Okay, thank you.

Nola.

What?

Did I ever tell you about the time

I used to dance with Alvin Ailey?

No.

I thought I did.

No! You danced with Ailey.

Yeah, I didn't tell you that? We used

to... We had this special African move.

It was like this.

Somebody come and

get this sick child.

Stop.

Stop. Stop what?

Who is that?

Who cares?

You want me to

answer it for you?

Yeah.

I got sick and tired of

feeling like a spoke in a wheel,

which is what I was.

To Nola, we were all interchangeable,

simply parts of a whole.

And it didn't matter who, just

as long as it was a warm body.

Nola had no devotion,

allegiance, or loyalty whatsoever.

When she whispered...

Jamie, they don't matter, don't

matter at all. You're the one I love.

...that was no

consolation at all.

That "You can't tell the players

from the scorecard" sh*t had to go!

When we'd be making love,

I found myself wondering

who or what other men

had been in this bed with her

besides the two I knew about,

doing things to

what I felt was mine.

I had did enough sharing to

last me for the rest of my life.

Nola hurt me to the core,

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