by Ni-Ni Simone
“I know you ain’t ’cause you my girl!” Shae encouraged Seven. “Hmph, the Hottie Posse. We steal, we don’t get stole on.”
Tay threw a punch into the air. “That’s right.”
“Shoot, they don’t know about me,” Seven snapped.
“I know they don’t.” I said—I was getting hyped up, too.
“I betchu…I betchu…if I open my wallet my ID gon’ say bad mamma-jamma.”
“There it is.” We all exchanged high-fives. “So get dressed,” they looked at me, “and you know, Shae,” Tay said, “since Melvin and Josiah are friends, then Melvin and his country behind just might be on the creep-creep too.”
“You think so?” Shae said, getting upset.
“Hmph, you never know.”
It was official—we had to wreck shop. But don’t get it twisted, although we were pissed, not being cute was not an option. So we all worked cargo capris. Tay had on denim, I had on khaki, Seven had on blue, and Shae wore red. And we all wore fitted wife-beaters with leopard push-up bras underneath, showing just a little of the cup. We also wore stilettos but don’t sleep, sneakers were in our bags, along with some Vaseline, and a place to slide our earrings, if need be.
Afterwards, we headed out the door and piled into Tay’s hatchback Civic. And in true Tay fashion, she had DMX’s “Where My Dogs At” on repeat. This, of course, hyped us up even more. Once we arrived at Josiah’s new address, Tay parked the car and said, “Now don’t get in there acting stupid,” she instructed Seven and everybody agreed. “Our mission is to go in there, break this fool and let him know you ain’t the one. We already know you the world’s oldest virgin, but that don’t give him the right to cheat on you.”
“I’m not the world’s oldest virgin!” Seven snapped.
“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that. Maybe you can be a nun or something,” Tay said.
“I’m not trying to be no nun!” Seven screamed.
“And what’s wrong with being a nun?” I snapped. “At least you don’t have to go to college for that. It’ll get mommy off your back. You know she ain’t gon’ play with God.”
“Be quiet,” Shae said. “Her being stingy with the booty is not the problem, ’cause it didn’t stop Quamir from dogging you!”
“You snapping on me?”
“No,” was her attempt to clean it up. “I was just making a point.”
“Well don’t make it over here.”
“Stop it!” Seven screamed, causing all of us to jump and look at her like she was crazy. “My life is coming to an end and you all are arguing!”
“You ain’t gon’ be yelling at me!” Tay rolled her neck. “Shoulda just gave him some and you wouldn’t be in this mess.”
We fixed our clothes as we headed up the steps. The bass in the music coming from inside the house was so loud that the hip-hop song they were playing was unrecognizable. There were Greek letters on the front of the building that actually looked to be an old brownstone painted yellow and gold. There was also a bulldog on the front door. “Look, Seven,” Tay said, “he just rubbin’ it all in your face.”
I knocked and rang the bell at the same time, causing the unlocked door to creep open and reveal a world that none of us could believe: half-naked hoochies…everywhere, all dancing up on somebody’s man; and Melvin, Shae’s boyfriend, was leading the way with a purple velvet cape around his neck. Looking exactly like Mr. Brown from the Tyler Perry plays.
He was doing the Souljah Boy in slow motion with two ghetto tricks to the DJ’s mix of Souljah Girl. And when we looked, Josiah was doing the funky chicken. Tay looked at Seven. “Told you he wasn’t no thug.”
And as we walked in, it was as if the entire party went SCREATCH!!!!!!. Melvin stopped dancing instantly, slapping the girls he was dancing with in the face with the sides of his cape, knocking them to the floor.
“Bama ass,” Shae snapped. “Nucka! I don’t believe this,” I could hear the tears in her throat. “And I thought that was our dance!”
“It is, Cornbread.”
“Shut calling me Cornbread!”
“What you want me to call you, sexy toast?”
“Call me nothing!”
“Well, Nothing, it ain’t even like that!”
“It don’t even matter,” Tay said as we all started taking off our earrings, “’cause it’s so far on, that all y’all ’bout to know the meaning of off!”
“Seven, what are you doing?” Josiah asked as we started talking our stilettos off.
“I came—”
Seven was talking too slow, so Tay took over the argument. “We came to show you that she ain’t the one!”
“You got this hoochie,” I spat, “all in your grill and my sister at home crying?”
“Crying, for what?” Josiah looked confused.
“’Cause your playboy behind is trying to cheat,” Tay snapped. “All ’cause she ain’t give you no booty. Maybe she likes being a virgin.”
“Could you stop talking so loud?” Seven blinked her eyes.
“What?” Josiah frowned. “I would never cheat on you. Didn’t you get my text message?”
“Oh, here we go,” Tay carried on, “every time a man knows he’s wrong, all of a sudden he’s sent a text message. Boy, please. Who you think gon’ fall for that?”
Josiah looked at Seven. “You better go catch her. Now look at your phone!” he demanded while we all stood there, with the exception of Shae, who was still handling Melvin.
“I don’t care!” Shae carried on. “You don’t do the Souljah Boy in slow motion with nobody else!”
Seven looked at her phone and read her text messages. The first one was from Josiah.
“Baby, I made it over! Come celebrate your man’s pledging Omega Psi Phi and bring your girls!”
“Oh…” she said off into a distance.
“Yeah, I know. Oh,” Josiah snapped.
I squinted my eyes. “I swear to God I’ma puncha you in the face! Told you ’bout letting Tay hype you up!”
“Don’t blame me!” Tay tried to say innocently.
“I was just sayin’…hey cutie.” She waved to one of the guys across the room. “Don’t I know you?”
“Ai’ight,” Josiah gave Seven half a smile, “hit me wit’ it.”
She gave him the look, the one where her eyes glimmer sadness and her dimples sank in her cheeks.
“Don’t even try it.” He kissed her on the lips. “I’m listening.”
“My fault.” She whined, like a five year old.
“No,” he gave Seven a sly smile. “I want to hear, ‘I’m sorry.’”
“I’m sorry.”
“Punk,” I said under my breath and sucked my teeth so hard it’s a wonder they stayed in my mouth. As soon as I got the opportunity, I was going to slap my sister in the head.
“Now give me a kiss,” Josiah said and, of course, Seven melted. I felt like throwing up.
“So is this why you haven’t called me?” floated over my shoulder. “’Cause you tryna be a sexy ass gangsta?” I turned around and it was Harlem. He handed me a styrofoam cup filled with soda. Instantly, my heart fluttered. “Are you stalking me?”
He laughed. “Don’t flatter yourself. I go to school here. Josiah is my boy. We’re both Q’s.”
“Aww.” I did all I could to suppress my smile. “So what? Your chick has the day off?”
“Stop that.” He grabbed me by the waist and started slow dancing with me, Lyfe Jennings’ “Must Be Nice” was playing as we swayed from side to side. I placed my arms around his neck and he slid his hands in the back pockets of my capris. “Let me kick this to you real quick. I don’t like girls with a whole buncha ra-ra and shootin’ off at the mouth. If you got something to ask me, ask me, ’cause all that neck swingin’ and lip poppin’ you bringin’ ain’t even for you.” He stroked my cheek and kissed me on the side of my neck. “Understand?”
I twisted my lips but I knew he could tell that I wanted to smile by my dimples sinki
ng in my cheeks. “Please. Like you don’t have a girl?”
“Was that a question?”
“Yes.”
“Ai’ight, then ask me.”
“Do you have a girl?”
“Nah. Why, you wanna be my girl?”
“Do you want me to be your girl?”
“Maybe…maybe that could be arranged.”
“Yeah, right.” I held my head down.
“Seriously,” he lifted my chin.
“You don’t have to flatter me.” Me’Shell Ndegéocello’s “Trust” was now playing and I felt like this was me and Harlem’s song. It had been so long since I felt like this that I just felt like something had to be wrong. I mean, was he really feeling me or was I fooling myself again? God, I hated this. I placed my head against his chest and closed my eyes.
“Ole boy hurt you ma?” he whispered in my ear.
“Nah,” I said, feeling tears beat against the back of my eyes, “not at all.”
“Then why are you scared?”
“I’m not scared.”
“You’re not scared but your heart is racing against my chest.”
I didn’t respond.
“It’s cool, ma. I’m not gon’ hurt you.”
For at least two more songs we swayed to the music and then I felt Harlem tilt his head down and press his lips against mine. At that very moment, as the possibility of love brushed against my feet, I decided to let myself go and I kissed him with all I had and even more…
By the time we got home, it was eight at night and I could smell my mother’s cornbread from the front door.
“Where y’all been?” she asked us as Noah played with my brother on the floor.
“Uhmmmm,” I said, “nowhere.” I started to say at work, but being that neither one of us had our work uniforms on, that would’ve been an obvious lie.
“Yeah, okay.” She arched one eyebrow and resumed reading her book. I couldn’t believe she let the conversation go just like that. I wondered if I should check her for a fever.
“Fat Mama!” Cousin Shake yelled, walking into the living room, “and broke-down Lil’ Kim, is that you? I been waitin’ for you to come home all day!”
“Why?” I asked suspiciously. “And stop calling me broke-down Lil’ Kim.”
“’Just listen, ’cause,” he tried to whisper, “I need you to help me respond to this li’l tender’s message.”
“Tender?” I frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m exploring my options,” he said.
“On what, Cousin Shake?” Seven asked.
“On MySpace. A li’l honey from around here saw my picture and wanted to hook up.”
“And what about Melvin’s mother?” I asked.
“Oh, I ain’t tell you?”
“Tell us what?” Seven and I said simultaneously.
“We just friends. I told her I had a lotta playboy left in me and I needed to get out.”
“I’ma throw up,” Seven said, disgusted.
“Now come on,” Cousin Shake walked over to the computer which sat in the dining room and logged onto his MySpace page. “I got about fifty-five messages already, I’m telling you, this li’l tender ready to get this poppin’ and I am, too.” He pulled up her profile.
“Oh my God,” I gasped. “That’s Ms. Minnie, Percy’s mother.”
“Uhmm, well, I likes me some Ms. Minnie.” Cousin Shake growled.
“Yuck!”
“What you mean, yuck?” Cousin Shake asked. “You see that body on her? Shortie shaped—”
“Just like a hound dog,” Seven cut him off.
“A hound dog?” Cousin Shake blinked in disbelief. “Keep it up and you coming off my top friend list. Anyway,” he pointed to the screen, “she said I could ask her anything I wanted to, so I need y’all help with what to ask.”
“What you wanna know?” I asked him.
“First things first, since she only twenty-two—”
Seven started laughing. “More like seventy-two.”
“That’s it,” Cousin Shake snapped, clicking on Seven’s page. “Consider yourself blocked.”
I could tell by the way Seven blinked she didn’t have a response for that.
“Now help me write this, Toi.”
“Like I said, what you wanna know?”
“Does she live with her mama and does she have a job?”
“Okay, well, ask her that.”
He started typing, one finger at a time. “Do you live in yo’ mama’s crib and is you on welfare?”
“You tryna talk about me, Cousin Shake?” I was offended.
“No, baby, never.”
“Ummm hmmm, what else you want to know?”
“Does she have any kids?”
“Well, type it.” I pointed to the keyboard.
“How much,” he typed, “baby daddy drama do you have?”
“Wait a minute, Cousin Shake. You can’t send that—” and before I could tell him why, the phone rang.
“I got it,” I practically tripped over my feet answering it.
“Hello?” I said.
“Wassup ma?” It was Harlem. “I really enjoyed you today.”
“I enjoyed you, too.” I took the cordless phone and walked to my room.
“Oh, so that’s how you gon’ do me?” Cousin Shake yelled down the hall after me. “It’s all good. I know y’all think I can’t do this without you, but I can. I can read, you know. I’ma just send my love note the way it is. All I got to do is sign it,” and I could hear him typing as he screamed, “Love Super Size Shake!’”
8
It was eleven at night and I was lying back on my bed with my feet propped against the wall, and I was basking in thoughts of Harlem. The only light coming into my room was from the moonlight, which snuck in between my mini blinds and left glowing stripes over half of my body. For once I let Noah sleep in his crib and the sound of his usual heavy breathing was blocked out by my thoughts and the slow jams on the radio.
The butterflies in my stomach fluttered in a thousand different directions as I wondered if I should call Harlem, or was our talking for hours on the phone last night enough for a few days. I mean, I didn’t want him to think I was sweatin’ him. But, I desperately wanted to hear his voice.
An hour later, into thinking about what I should do, my phone rang. I looked at the caller ID, and it was Harlem. “Thank you, God.” I smiled at the ceiling. I let it ring two more times and then answered, “Hello?”
“Wassup, beautiful?”
My heart skipped and the butterflies in my stomach flapped like they were in a race. “Who is this?” I said, as if I didn’t know who it was.
He laughed. “Oh, you don’t know my voice. So how many more dudes you have calling you?”
None. “Three.”
“I hope that was a joke,” he said seriously.
I laughed. “I was hoping you would call.” I hope I didn’t give in too soon. “I was just thinking about you.”
“I was thinking about you too, ma. So what’s good with you?”
“Nothing, just listening to music. Whatchu doing?”
“Getting ready to buy me Chinese food.”
“Chinese is my favorite!” I said, a little too excited.
“What’s your favorite dish?”
“Orange chicken and lo mein.”
“Hold on for a minute.” He clicked over and I wondered who could be calling him this time of the night. “Yeah.” He clicked back over. “Let me hit you back in a minute.”
Let him hit me back? Is that what he said? Yeah, yeah, I believe he did. I couldn’t believe this! I knew it was only a matter of time before my bubble would bust.
Suddenly, I didn’t wanna to hear anymore slow music, so I turned the radio off. To heck with love, like, lust, or whatever this nonsense that fluttered my in stomach was. Didn’t I swear these feelings off anyway? So bump it! When my father left my mother and Qua did me dirty, I should’ve known that love had le
ft the building. Yet here I was again. Jackass!
Before I could finish berating myself, my phone rang. “Yeah,” I said with attitude. To heck with playing it off!
It was Harlem. “You got clothes on?”
“Excuse me?”
“Wait—” he laughed. “It’s not what you think.”
“Okay, because I was gon’ say, you trying to be freaky?”
“It’s all good ma. The phone wouldn’t even do me justice.”
Why was I imagining some nasty things? Okay, let me pull it back. “So, what does my clothes have to do with this conversation?”
“I wanted to make sure you were dressed. Come outside—I brought you some Chinese.”
I couldn’t stop blushing. I know he heard it in my voice. “You what?”
“I’m in front of your house. I brought you something to eat.”
I couldn’t believe this. I felt like he’d just asked to marry me. I looked down at what I had on, a pair of Victoria’s Secret terry cloth shorts with PINK written across the booty and a matching tee shirt.
As I slipped on my pink flip-flops, I couldn’t remember if I’d said goodbye when I hung up the phone.
I looked out the window to confirm he was still there and he was, looking as cute as he wanted to be in his ’97 black, limited edition Jeep Cherokee. Before I went outside to meet him, I convinced Seven to watch Noah for me. When I opened my front door, I could see his smile. I walked over to his Jeep and got in. He had my food on the dashboard with a pair of chopsticks. Joe’s “If I Was Your Man” was playing.
Instantly, I melted into the soft leather of his seat. I’d never been on a date like this. All Quamir ever did was take me to his house and leave me there while he went God knows where or took me to his boy’s house, and left me with his girl like she was my friend or something. But something this sweet, nah, I’d never been treated like this before.
“I can’t believe you did this for me.” I bashfully covered my mouth.
“Why not?” he looked into my eyes. “I’m feelin’ you.”
“It’s just that…that I never really had no guy be this sweet to me.”
“Well, you never been my girl before, either. Stick with me, ma. There’s more where this came from.”