LITMIR.BIZ

      KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.

      http://www.kensingtonbooks.com

      To my first teenage love

       Michael Jackson—

      you will forever be missed.

       And to my little cousin Korynn,

       who sat in church and chatted away with me about this

       book,

       who texted me every day for more and more pages:

       You are so smart, so beautiful, and so gifted!

       Stay as you are and

       I assure you that the best is yet to come!

      Dear Reader,

      You are about to partake in the journey of my love life, my home life, my mistakes, missteps, and everything in between that makes me…well…me. In these pages you will see that it’s hard work being a seventeen-year-old diva, and that’s for certain. I swear, what I thought was love had turned out not to be. Then there was the time where I changed my mind midstream and decided that love, relationships, and endless drama just weren’t for me.

      Heck, I felt like I needed a break from my own life. For real–for real, no lie, I’ve gone to Heaven and Hell at least twice only to land somewhere in between. But along the way I learned some very valuable lessons that I want to share with you.

      For one: Love feels good. Period. Anyone who tells you anything different is played. All of these sad songs that say I want you/ I need you/ and I gotta have you back is because someone messed up and mistreated someone else. That’s not love, that’s nonsense.

      And if by chance love is more difficult or complicated than that—we can learn that later, after teenage life. Feel me? But, anyway, as I was saying, love—true love—never feels bad and it doesn’t make you feel worthless.

      Oh yeah, and it doesn’t send you on a cat-and-mouse chase and have you sweatin’ some dude or some chick who plays you to the left.

      Along my journey I also learned that our parents deserve a chance. I know that sometimes they seem, to us, to be buggin’ or trippin’, and always want to take charge over what we feel is our life. But they do this because they love us and want what’s best. I’m not trying to sound like an afterschool special, I’m just saying that parents can be cool people, and besides they love us unconditionally—teenage flaws and all.

      Last, I learned that the most important type of love is the love you have for yourself. If you don’t love yourself, then other people won’t. I know you’ve heard that a thousand times before but it’s sooooo true.

      I went through a time in my life where I thought my boyfriend putting his hands on me was love, but it wasn’t. And if you’re in a relationship where either you or your dude are hitting on one another, putting the hands up, bumpin’, boxin’, throwin’, or whatever you call it, then the two of you don’t need to be together. Let me say that again. “YOU DON’T NEED TO BE TOGETHER!”

      All it takes is for someone to fall, hit their head the wrong way, become seriously injured or worse—die—and then what? Both lives are ruined. And it doesn’t matter if he or she tells you they love you, because if they hit you, they don’t love or respect you. And please don’t think you can change them, because you can’t. Don’t fall for their apologies and don’t accept any gifts from them. Just get out of the relationship. Love yourself enough to bounce.

      And if you’re the one hitting on your boo, then you need to stop and get yourself some help, tell your parents, and don’t be afraid to go to counseling.

      Counseling is for anyone who feels they have issues or problems they want to work out. Counseling is not played, and it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks. What matters is becoming a better you. As a matter of fact, here are some cool people who can help you: National Domestic Violence Hotline: 1-800-799-SAFE.

      So, to wrap this up, just remember this: Life is what you make it, and love is great when it’s drama free. If you are good to yourself and respect yourself, then everyone else will get in line. And if they don’t, then tell them that Zsa-Zsa said, “Lose yourself! You don’t need the hassle!”

      Remember love is good, easy, and free, and only when you understand these things will you enjoy the true essence of a teenage love affair!

      Now let’s turn the page and do the damn thing!

      Peace!

       Zsa-Zsa

      Contents

      Prologue

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      Chapter 6

      Chapter 7

      Chapter 8

      Chapter 9

      Chapter 10

      Chapter 11

      Chapter 12

      Chapter 13

      Chapter 14

      Chapter 15

      Chapter 16

      Chapter 17

      Chapter 18

      Chapter 19

      Chapter 20

      Chapter 21

      Chapter 22

      Chapter 23

      Chapter 24

      Questions and tips about what else? Teenage Love and Relationships!

      PROLOGUE

      June 2004

       Newark, New Jersey

      Zsa-Zsa

      Understand this: I’m grown—no two or three ways about it. I’ve been grown since last year, once I realized that the daily bruises on my mother’s face and her busted lip were not from her walking into the front door but were instead courtesy of my daddy’s left hook. Then I came into womanhood.

      Don’t sleep. I knew how to cook, clean, and pretend that my mother liked to wear sunglasses indoors, and that my daddy wasn’t drunk, he just smelled bad. I knew not to open my mouth and question my mother when she called the cops. My daddy would beat her one day and the next day my mother would drop the charges and bail him out of jail.

      I knew it all, which is exactly why I was not impressed by the note that had mysteriously landed on my desk with the words “You wanna be my girl? Circle yes or no” written in block letters.

      I knew it was from my classmate Malachi, although he didn’t sign his name. We lived in the same building and would sometimes walk home together. He’d told my two best friends, Courtney and Asha, that he was checkin’ for me. That turned me off. Although I loved him, I didn’t need anybody else knowing that. So I stopped talking to him…but that only seemed to light his fire even more. This explained why he was giving me the up-down with his eyes while I was sitting on the cement bench in the playground with my friends.

      I turned to Courtney who, although he was a boy, only played

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