University Chic

Afrika Brown
September 5, 2007 - 10:32am.
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Want to get caught up on past entries in Jade's diary? Read chapters 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12 and 13.

Dear Diary,

The only thing I could think of on the way back to work was that bitch strutting around with my jewelry on her body. How could he let her wear it? He knows how much it means to me. The only reason why I didn’t take it with me when I returned home was because the jewelry was not supposed to be in my possession. It was supposed to be in a safe deposit box at the bank.

My mom made me promise to keep it there when she gave them to me on my twentieth birthday. She was scared it might get misplaced or stolen. I never took the pieces back to the bank after I took them out for New Year’s. It seems my mom’s fear has come to pass. Seeing a picture of Michelle wearing my great grandmother’s jewelry was far worse than seeing the all the pictures of her and Justin at the club. I know now that Justin was never mine, although he claimed to be mine and love me forever.

But that jewelry is my heritage. First the slut steals what I thought was my man, then she steals my jewelry, and Justin is her accomplice. I loathe both of them. I cannot believe someone I trusted could be so evil and that the man I wanted to marry could be so weak.

All of that doesn’t matter now: payback is a royal bitch and that is what I am right now, a seething angry bitch. Hell hath no fury like a woman who just found out that her most prized possession has been taken and worn by her nemesis. I will have to have that jewelry cleaned a thousand times to wipe her funky aura off of it.

My last hours at work were dedicated to scheming and plotting. My mind was a hurricane of thoughts of vengeance. My next strike would be nothing nice.

Hmm…what could it be? I was thinking of having his legs broken. No. She would take care of him while he was healing and then he would really fall in love with her for being his Florence Nightingale. I could have that pretty face of his worked on. No. He can afford the best plastic surgeons so what would be the point. It might cost him some dough, but money is really no object to him. He just pretends that it is.

Eureka! It finally came to me. My things were violated, thus I was violated. Something of mine was taken and given to another without my permission. It would only be proper that I strike back in the same fashion. I still had the key to our old place. The locks hadn’t been changed. I would stage a break in--yes, that is the ticket. I know where all his most valuable things are hidden. I would take them all along with his prized sneaker collection.

Of course, I would have to take some of my things as well, so the finger of guilt would not point at me. I will ransack the place so it will look like the thieves stumbled upon the stocks, money, and one of a kind jewelry he has hidden in the apartment. I’m going to have to get a wig so that the neighbors don’t realize it is me. I will also have to make sure the lock appeared to be jimmied.

Now I have to wrangle up my accomplices. I don’t really want to involve Tyriq. He is a very stand up kind of guy. Since this whole thing has happened he has never talked about seeking revenge on either Justin or Michelle. I don’t think he would want to sneak into Justin’s apartment and help me lift some of his stuff. I’m sure I could get Denise and a few of girls to help me in my mission. Justin has been traveling back and forth to the Cape. I will need to know when he is away, and Katrina can assist with that. It is on.

I cancelled my evening healing session with Tyriq. I was not in the mood to be mellowed out by his touch. I went home and went over to Denise’s house to plot our strategy. I have seen enough crime dramas to know this is not the sort of thing you talk about over the phone. To my dismay she refused to assist me in “Operation Violation.” I was shocked.

She thought I should approach Justin, get my jewelry back, and let karma work on justice. I simply can’t do that. She told me this conflict had gotten way too ugly and thought if I carried out my plan that it would lead into someone getting hurt. She didn’t want to see anything happen to me.

At this point, I would sell my soul to the devil to ensure that Justin Gardner suffered. He has no remorse for the pain he has put me through. Karma may do a number on him one day, but I may not be around to see it. I want to see him fall so desperately. The only way I can do that is to ensure that I am the one that provokes his turmoil.

I was so pissed that Denise refused to help that I stormed out of her house. She tried to call me, but I ignored it. An hour or so after I left her house I began to think about what she said. I knew she was only concerned about my well-being. My anger with her subsided, I knew I really wasn’t mad at her anyway. My lust for vengeance is so potent that I would slap the Virgin Mary if she challenged it. I called her and told her I wasn’t angry with her. She knows me and understood where my rage came from. It is good to have friends that truly know you. We both knew her refusal wouldn’t stop me with going through with my plans. I would just have to rope someone else into the lasso of “Operation Violation.”

The next day I spoke to Tyriq and told him what I had found out. He was disgusted as I was to find out how dirty the two of them had become. He remembered how I showed everyone the jewelry on New Year’s Eve and said how precious it was to me. He remembered Michelle said how she thought the jewelry was so hot and that is was something that could be passed down to my kids. He asked me what I was going to do. Reluctant to tell him of my plans, I responded that I didn’t know. I felt like a warped Santa Claus as I made a list of all the girls I knew that were naughty enough to carry out my plan with me. Then fate stepped in and put my plans to a halt.

Justin sent me a text saying: Meet me at the club and bring my credit card and bankcard. I want them back ASAP. He wants them back does he? He’ll get them back, but not the way he expects. It appeared fate had agreed with Denise. A staged robbery was not the way to handle this. “Operation Violation” was going to Plan B. All this drama was making me lose myself. I have always believed that face-to-face confrontations are best. I’m not a thief and I’m not a sneak. I don’t hide in the shadows and do grimy things. I confront anything and anyone straight like a Hummer colliding head on into a Civic.

No. I won’t resort to their tactics. The club was where I started to check them the first time, but now that I recall Tyriq interrupted us. I think it is time to settle some unfinished business. Before I merely just knocked Michelle’s fake tiara off her head. My plan now is to crush her cubic zirconia headpiece and her court jester too.

When I returned to the club this time I did not take Denise. I called Katrina for back up. I was kind of surprised that she agreed to go with me. Both of us know Michelle. Katrina showing up with me would indicate in Michelle’s mind that Katrina is choosing sides. Although I did not tell Katrina about what I planned to do when I got to the club or what I had originally planned to do, it was good to know that I could truly call her my friend.

For some reason Ty was hesitant about going to the club with me. I didn’t know if it was thought of seeing Michelle after learning about the events that transpired at the barbecue or if it the prior incident at the club that made him so uncertain about going, but luckily I was able to convince him to go despite his apprehension. I also kept Ty in the dark about my plans.

When we arrived at the club I felt my adrenaline pump through my body. My heart rate accelerated and I thought my heart would beat so hard that it would burst out of my chest. We stepped in the club, paid our money, and walked past the bar downstairs. The music was banging. The DJ was playing well, just as he usually does, but I didn’t come there to dance.

We climbed the stairs to the main dance floor. Katrina and Ty walk past me to join the perspirating bodies moving to the beat in darkness. Only the strobe lights could distinguish the silhouettes of familiar bodies. I scanned the perimeter of the dance floor looking for Michelle and Justin. The club was too dark, I couldn’t see them. Then a strobe light casted a green glow over Justin spinning as the DJ dropped the music through the speakers hard. He was in the back of the club. Showtime!

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Summer Chic Lit: Diary of a Breakup, Chapter 14

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