Sarah shatters the quiet by slapping her hands on the table. “You guys want to see something funny?”
Pookie says, “Yes please anything to break the tension.”
Sarah looks over at me as I tear into the pancakes. I’ve already finished the okra, French toast and oxtails. “Leila have you told Nickie and Pookie about Tucker Bradley?” I swallow hard. My face gets hot and little beads of sweat develop on my upper lip. Nickie smiles at me and Pookie belts out a hardy laugh.
Pookie says, “I didn’t know black folks could blush.”
I fan myself with the dessert menu. “I’m happy to amuse you all,” I say leaning back in my chair and sliding the waist band of my sweats down over my stomach. It was concave just minutes ago now there’s a tiny bulge. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
“So who is Tucker Bradley,” Pookie says spooning a big heap of cheese grits into his mouth?
“He’s just a student teacher in one of my class; well he was until the class ended.”
“Yeah right,” Sarah says. “He is not just a student teacher. Other than the economic crisis and a bunch of other political garbage I don’t understand, he’s all she ever talks about.”
Nickie says, “I’ve never known you to be shy around boys.”
“That’s just it,” I say pushing an oxtail bone around the plate with my fork. “He’s not a boy he’s twenty-six, super smart, gorgeous and he’s white. I've never dated a white guy before."
“Hello, I’m white and you talk to me all the time." Sarah says with a mouth full of food.
“Yeah but I don’t picture myself licking whipped cream off your ass every time I see you.” Everyone stops eating and looks at me with their heads slightly cocked to one side. “What? It’s true I get all squishy every time he stands near me. The problem is compounded by the fact that he has a girl friend and hundreds of groupies.”
“Aww sweetie,” Nickie says in a sing song voice then reaches across the table to hold my hand.
“Oh stop being dramatic, that’s my job,” Sarah says. “The only problem is he’s still pissed that you went out with his best friend.
“You never told me,” I say.
“It doesn’t matter. A little jealousy can be good for a relationship,” Sarah says.
Pookie pays the check and we all set off towards the dorm.
“I’m going to have to meet this Tucker,” Pookie says with a big smile. “And Nickie we’re going to find you a man that prefers chicks over dicks,” Pookie says.
“Or yoni’s over cajone’s,” Sarah adds.
“What the hell is a yoni,” Pookie asks.
“Its Sanskrit for vagina or more literally a woman’s holy place,” I say.
“You made that up,” Pookie says laughing.
“It’s a thing,” I say.
Nickie forces a smile and slows her pace falling behind the group. I slow down to walk with her while Pookie and Sarah trudge ahead cracking jokes and stopping to talk to street vendors.
“We’re going to have fun this weekend Nick,” I say wrapping my arms around her waist.
“I’ve missed you,” she says and kisses the top of my head. The best thing about having a big sister is unconditional love.
Once in the room I shower, wash and condition my hair then cover myself in my favorite Satsuma orange body butter. Pookie and Nickie take turns flat ironing my hair. It takes nearly two hours for them to yank and fry my fluffy hair into a long shiny main. They say my hair is so thick that I’ve given them both carpal tunnel syndrome by the time it’s all done. Pookie applies a shit load of makeup to my face to achieve what he calls the natural look. Everyone’s excited about going out but all I really want to do is take a long nap after all the food I ate. I know that will never fly so I slide into a tight black knee length dress with some sort of bondage straps across the back. I slip on knockoff Jimmy Choo royal blue suede stilettos and look down at myself thinking if I linger around any corners while we’re out tonight I’m sure to be arrested for soliciting. “I look like a whore,” I say to no one in particular.
Sarah says, “It’s ok as long as you use your inner whore for good and not evil.”
Pookie hands Nickie a pretty green knee length dress. Nickie takes the dress and industrial size make up tubes into the bathroom to change. She says, “Gay or not it’s inappropriate to be naked in front of my uncle.”
Nickie comes out in the dress and my mouth falls open. The green knee length dress has a high round neckline and upon first glance appears tame for Pookie’s taste. However, I look a little closer and see that it is nearly completely translucent. There’s a strip of green fabric across the breast and a slightly larger strip around the waist of the dress and not much else.
“You look beautiful,” I say drooling over the Roberto Cavalli leopard print stilettos with colorful baubles she’s sliding into. These shoes are like art and are clearly not knockoffs. I’m not sure how she managed to afford them but I’m making plans to slip them out of her bag before she goes back home.
“She is beautiful,” Sarah says interrupting my thoughts. “You two look exactly alike,” she adds.
“No we don’t,” I say. “Nickie is gorgeous.”
“All three of you girls have the exact same face in different shades of brown,” Pookie says. “When Keisha, Nickie and you are together it’s like looking at a small medium and large version of the same person.
I look at Nickie thoughtfully. I guess I don’t pay much attention to my own face.
“And Pookie looks more like your brother than your uncle,” Sarah adds.
“I’m pretty sure my mom never had a son,” I say thinking she’s right. My father Xavier is the oldest boy in a family of six. Xavier and his other siblings look similar but none as similar as he and Pookie. Pookie looks exactly like my sisters and I, practically a clone of my father. My grandmother Bess and grandpa Jo raised two boys and three girls before Pookie was born. According to my mom Bess had all of her kids young so by the time she was in her forties they were all grown and out of the house. Grandpa Jo died of a heart attack a little before his fiftieth birthday. Bess was heartbroken so much so that she couldn’t get out of bed for days. After feeling sick for weeks she went to the doctor thinking that her missed period and listlessness was the early start of menopause or maybe a result of her grief. The doctor told her she was in fact pregnant. She was so distraught that she spent the next six weeks in bed crying. Once Bess got over the initial shock she went back into mommy mode only this time was different. She decided that Pookie was going to be more of a mini companion than a son. They explored things together, Jermaine being treated as an equal rather than a little boy. They went to museums and plays. She took him to art and dance classes. Pookie was seven when I was born and since all of his brothers and sisters were grown Nickie, Keisha and I were more like his sisters than his nieces.
Pookie changes into jeans, a white button down shirt with a blazer and a green Harames pocket square. Sarah slips into the black dress with the asymmetric bottom that Pookie sent in the mail a few months ago.
Nickie poses, “I’m going to pretend to be someone else this weekend,” she says adjusting her boobs. Her long glossy locks are pulled into a messy bun at the top of her head which brings her height to nearly six feet.
Pookie and I look at each other. “Alright Ms. somebody else, let’s get outta here,” He says. Sarah and I pick up our purses and link arms with Pookie. Nickie put’s on Jackie O glasses, picks up a neutral colored coach satchel then leads the way out of the dorms. I tug at the top of my dress that’s showing way too much cleavage and run my fingers through my hair. I feel self conscious without the safety of my bun. We watch Nickie strut ahead of us with more confidence than I’ve ever seen.
“I bet I know who else will be using their inner whore for good this weekend,” Sarah says motioning to Nickie.<
br />
_______
Sarah spots Tucker talking to the debutant in front of the administration building. He see’s Leila walking by and his eyes widen but she’s so busy adjusting her clothes that she doesn’t notice him watching.
“I’ll catch up in a minute.” Sarah says breaking away from the group and walking over to Tucker. She steps in front of the girl he’s talking to, takes hold of his arm and pulls him away.
“Bitch the girl mumbles.”
“Ho don’t make me peal your cap,” Sarah says pointing at the girl with two fingers and a thumb in the shape of a gun. The debutant scoffs and walks away. “I heard someone say that in a movie, ”Sarah says, “was I believable?”
“I suppose you were believable since she walked away.
“Why are you talking to her anyway?”
“She’s in one of my classes,” He says, “and you were a bit rude.”
“Whatever, we’re going to be at Tyler’s party tonight.”
“You know Amy keeps popping up everywhere I go and I’m sure Leila doesn’t’ want anything to do with me after what happened with Mike.”
Sarah yawns and moves her fist back and forth as if she’s jacking off. “Amy’s a troll. I see the way you look at Leila so stop acting like a woman and come to the party. This is the last time I’m going to intervene on your behalf.”
He folds his muscular arms and looks down at Sarah. ”I would give you a noogy and a wedgie if you weren’t wearing that flimsy dress.” Leila is almost out of sight and still fidgeting with the dress. “Who’s that guy she’s with and why is she dressed like that?”
“I guess you’re going to have to come find out.”
Chapter 7
At night San Francisco becomes a different world. When the tourists are all tucked away in their respective hotels the natives go wild. We forgo our plans to see the sights of the city opting to hit nearly every bar, party and club in town instead. Our first stop is a Latin bar called Alegria’s in the Outer Mission area. The minute we walk through the front door Sarah spots someone she knows. The guys name is Topper. He’s lanky, wiry and unkempt with greasy brown hair that stands straight up on his head.
Sarah looks apprehensive as she approaches him. “Everything alright Topper,” she says as she slowly walks towards the place near the front door where he’s standing. Topper is jiggling change in his pockets and looking from side to side as if he expects to be abducted at any moment. He has wild tweaker eyes that freak me out.
Nickie whispers in my ear, “He’s on something.”
“No shit,” I say “How does she meet these people.”
“What are you two saying back there,” Topper says moving towards us.
Pookie steps in front of Topper and places a hand on his chest. “Everything’s cool man stand down.”
“Oh yeah, ok its cool,” He says scratching his filthy hair.
Pookie wraps his arm around Sarah’s waist and leads her away. Nickie follows closely behind.
I’m drawn to a tiny stage in the very back of the bar where a woman in a red dress stands with her hands by her side and her head lowered. A slow guitar solo begins to play and the woman’s arms start to move like a scene from The Matrix. I am awestricken by the strength of her dance. Her movements change with the tempo of the music. She stomps out an emotional tale that I don’t quite understand but I’m mesmerized by. The dance ends and I find myself slightly out of breath. I travel through the crowd trying to be as unobtrusive as possible. I find a seat on the patio and order a soda. “The Flamaco dance was amazing right,” Kira the black Russian says pulling up a chair.
“Where did you come from,” I ask reaching over to hug her.
“I was standing behind you the whole time. You were so into the dance that you didn’t notice.”
Kira is actually from Cleveland but like Sarah she takes on different personalities as part of her life as a drama major. Kira and I talk about school for a few minutes then Sarah materializes with Nickie, Topper and Pookie close behind. They all pull up chairs and sit at the table. All of their eyes are blood shot. Nickie is coughing as if she suddenly developed emphysema and they all smell like skunks. Topper seems like a normal dirty guy now. I guess whatever they smoked took the edge off but he’s clearly on something much stronger than weed. They all order drinks and Kira suggests that we go to her friend Noah’s twenty-second birthday party at a techno club in the Sunset District.
It went on like this the whole night. We’d go to one party meet someone then end up at another party or club. I spent the night babysitting and driving everyone around directed by Sarah who was surprisingly lucid considering the amount of alcohol she’d consumed. And Nickie kept her word she had indeed become a brand new person. Sarah ordered blow jobs at O’Conner’s bar near the Marina. The drink was a mixture of Kailua and a bunch of other sweet brown alcohols. It was topped with whipped cream that twirled high on the shot glass and drips down one side. Sarah had to give detailed instructions about how to drink the shot. She told Nickie to clasp her hands behind her back and lick the whipped cream that dripped down the side. Next, she instructed her to wrap her mouth around the top of the glass and pick it up using only her lips. By the time she tilted her head back to drink the shot she had the attention of half the men in the bar, several of which cheered and sent over more rounds. After their fourth drink Nickie and Sarah got all Coyote Ugly and climbed up on the bar to dance. I took pictures and sent them to Keisha because I knew she’d never believe it. Before leaving O’Conner’s Nickie made out with a very handsome Asian guy, a short pudgy black guy and one person whose gender was undetermined. Each time I’d push the man’s groping hands away and Nickie would protest and tell me how much she cared for the stranger.
Pookie and Sarah were no better. At another bar I found them sitting behind the building smoking the biggest joint I’d ever seen in my life with some white guy who had long blond dreadlocks. Blond dreads of course became the next member of the group. I was tired of babysitting, getting everyone in the car and cabs stopping for munchies. The whole night was a bust. Tyler’s party is the last stop. I’m setting all of my new babies free to fin for themselves. It’s going to be my turn to let go and be irresponsible.
Sarah told me that once a year Tyler Fergusson hosts a huge party and invites all of his old college friends and co-workers. His house is a three story Victorian near the Marina in San Francisco. The houses in the Marina are the most expensive in all of San Francisco. Most of the houses have a view of the Golden Gate Bridge and the ocean. They are considerably larger than a normal home in the City. We find parking and I usher my horde of stoners and drunks up the stairs before entering the house. The minute I walk over the threshold a tiny hobbit of a man wraps his arms around my waist and whirls me onto the dance floor. The man smells like he’s been rolling around in beer. He is about three inches shorter than me round and squishy. I can’t break his grip from my waist so I look around the room for help but the group has all dispersed. He holds me tight and rests his head on my chest swaying back and forth with his eyes closed. The more I struggle the tighter his grip becomes. I yell for Pookie but the music is too loud.
“We should get out of here,” The man says. “You’re so pretty, I can treat you real nice,” He says and lifts his head to kiss me. I block his face with my hands. “Come on let’s get out of here,” he says pulling me towards the door, his foul breath stings my eyes. I’m terrified of what will happen if he gets me outside. I know I have to do something fast so I angle my heel and stomp on his foot with all my might. He releases me, I step away ball my fist and punch him right in the nuts. He doubles over in pain. His eyes bulge as he gasps for air, “You bitch, what’d you do that for?” he says and lunged for me but before he reaches me Tucker appears out of nowhere hoists him up by his shirt and lifts him two feet off the ground. While he hangs suspended in the air swinging his arms an
d legs like an angry puppet I punch him again with such force I stumble backwards and nearly fall. Pookie yanks me back before I can hit the man a third time. Sarah and Nickie appear, wrapping their arms around me as we all silently watch Tucker toss the man out the front door as if he weighs nothing. Tyler who is a lot smaller and rounder than I pictured comes over to see what’s happening. Sarah assures him that everything’s taken care of. I’m all set to yell at everyone for leaving me alone to be attacked by a troll. But my attention is drawn to Tucker. He walks over to the crowd that’s gathered, reaches for my hand and gently pulls me away. Sarah does a happy dance. Nickie and Pookie wave their hands in front of their faces and fan.
_______
After a nose job, fat injections in her lips and two breast augmentations Amy Carrington is still not satisfied with her looks. She’s rich, charismatic and has tons of friends but no one has ever called her beautiful. Dating the men that every other woman wants is what sets her apart and makes her feel special. When she met Tucker at a party she was instantly drawn to his rugged good looks and easy going attitude. The fact that his father was a real estate developing mogul and Tucker had recently inherited an inordinately large trust fund was a bonus. She and Tucker had several friends in common having grown up in the same gated community in the hills of Marin County. She’d see him at social events but other than the occasional glance at her breasts he wasn’t the least bit interested in her. So she did some research and found out that his mother owed a nonprofit organization in Marin. She made a large donation to the company and signed up to volunteer. She tried to get information about him from his mother but that didn’t work because the woman hated Amy from the moment she met her. So she did a little more digging and found out that Michael Dubois was Tucker’s best friend. As luck would have it Mike was applying for a job at an agency where Amy’s father sat on the board of directors. Once she had Mike in her grasp getting Tucker was easy.
A Love Like This (Book 1) Page 6