“Damn,” I said, taking off my sunglasses in disbelief, pointing. “Ain’t that…”
“Yep!” Dub-B said. “That’s your boy, Lawry! That boy done came all the way out the closet, fam.”
“Hell nah, G!” Fresh said, covering his mouth with his hand. “Lawry is tweeking!”
“Tweeking ain’t the word, cuz,” Fats said.
“I’m pissed!” Dub-B said, bashing his fist into his open palm.
“Why?” I asked.
“Now that he’s out the closet, we ain’t gonna be able to post that picture on the Internet!” he said. “It’ll be pointless. Everybody already knows Howard is gay.”
“What picture?” Fresh asked.
“Yeah, what picture, Dub?” I asked, giving him a look that said “drop it.”
Apparently Dub-B got the hint.
“Aw, nothing,” he said nonchalantly.
“Aw, nothing, my ass,” Fresh said. “What ya got?”
“Just this little picture of Lawry giving Howard some head,” Dub-B said.
“Dub!” I screamed. “You wasn’t s’posed to tell nobody about that. You’re killing me, blood.”
“Hold up, cuz,” Fats said. “You got a picture of what?”
I was mad Dub-B leaked the fact that we had the picture to the homies. Actually, I was pissed. Even though Lawry seemed to be out of the closet, the last thing I needed him to do was tell Dex or one of the Kappas that he knew I was prepledging. I’d be finished.
South Beach was so poppin’, it was hard to hold a grudge against anybody. The sun was beaming down, everybody was drunk, having a good time and people were wildin’ out.
After Timothy dipped out to go visit his girl, Fats convinced the rest of us to follow him to the scooter rental stand. At fifty dollars per day, the scooters were kinda pricey, but they turned heads, so they were worth every penny. Mine was candy-apple red and it seemed everywhere I went, there was a fine chick who wanted to ride on the back. But when it came to hanging out, Wet Willie’s was the place to be. We stopped by that bar at least twice a day to order drinks, courtesy of Fats’s ID. The best part about it was I rarely paid for one. Most of the time, Fresh would whip out his credit card and buy rounds for all of us just to impress girls standing nearby.
“It’s on me, fellas!” he’d scream.
Out of all the spots we hit, Club Mansion was the most memorable. We went there on our last night—the only night Timothy came out with us. Dub-B’s girl, Jasmine, tagged along, too. I have no earthly idea why he decided to bring sand to the beach that night. But after taking a few steps inside the club, I couldn’t care less. Club Mansion was packed wall-to-wall with beautiful girls. I could tell by the expression on Dub-B’s face the moment we walked in he wished he’d come alone. As monstrous as two football stadiums stacked on top of one another, Mansion was by far the largest club I’d ever partied at in my life. It didn’t take long for Fresh to flex his pocket muscle.
“We’re going to the VIP tonight, fellas!” he said.
At the bottom of the staircase leading to the VIP area, we were met by a tall white man who looked like he’d just won the Mr. Universe competition. He towered over us, his muscles bulging through his black suit. There was no sneaking around him.
“Can I help you gentlemen?” he asked.
“We’re tryna get up in VIP, cuz,” Fats said.
“Okay,” he said. “How many gentlemen are there in your party?”
“Five,” Fresh said.
“All right,” the security guard said. “That’ll be twenty-five.”
“Is that all?” I asked, digging in my pocket, whipping out a crisp twenty-dollar bill and a five. “Shoot, if I woulda known it was only twenty-five bucks to get up in VIP, we woulda been up in there a long time ago.”
“Yeah,” Timothy added. “That’s not bad at all.”
“I’m afraid there’s been some kind of misunderstanding,” the security guard said with a slight grin. “When I said twenty-five, I meant twenty-five hundred. Five-hundred dollars per person.”
“Five hundred?” Fats asked.
“Per person?” I asked for clarification.
By this time, there was a lengthy line of beautiful ladies standing behind us, trying to get into VIP. While it would have been embarrassing to turn around and walk away, I was prepared to do just that. I figured the security guard was inflating the price to keep a little something for himself anyway. Just when I was about to tell him what to do, Fresh spoke up.
“What all comes with that?” Fresh asked.
“Who cares?” I asked. “I’m not about to let you spend all of that money on nobody’s…”
The security guard started talking over me.
“Three bottles of premium liquor, a bottle of champagne, and your own private section overlooking the club,” he said. “You will get a total of eight VIP bands, so you can bring a few ladies up with you if you want.”
“Just twenty-five hundred?” Fresh asked, obnoxiously loud, so all the ladies behind us could hear. “Is that all?”
“Count me out,” Dub-B said. “That’s way too much for me, Fresh. I’ma just chill on the dance floor down here, yo.”
“This one is on me, fellas!” Fresh said even louder. “We’re all going!”
“You sure about that, cuz?” Fats asked.
“You’re trippin’, blood,” I said. “Twenty-five hundred dollars? It’s not that serious to get up in VIP. Really, it’s not.”
“Y’all take Visa, right?” Fresh asked.
“Sure do,” the security guard said.
“I’m sure then,” Fresh said, whipping the plastic out of his wallet. “Let’s do it!”
Even though I knew Fresh was making a big mistake paying so much money to party in the VIP section, I felt like a real boss as I scaled the spiral staircase to the lavish VIP area. As promised, a cute waitress led us to a lavish booth, where our bottles were already waiting on ice. The group of chicks who were standing behind us in line at the bottom of the staircase had made their way into our vicinity. Of course, Fresh invited them to sit down and drink with us. As good as they were lookin’, I damn sure wasn’t about to object to that. Especially not after we started popping bottles. After the first bottle of Grey Goose, I was nice. After three glasses of Moët, I was tipsy. And after four shots of Patrón, I was officially hammered. My eyes were low, my speech was slurred and I had to hold on to the rail just to stand up straight. After a few shaky attempts of standing on my own two, I decided it would probably be safer for me to just sit down. But the moment my butt touched the couch, the room started to spinning. And the longer I sat, the faster it spun. Nauseated, I placed my elbows on my knees, rested my forehead on my palms, and stared at the floor, trying to regain my composure. But it was no use. I’d reached the point of no return.
“Hey,” Jasmine asked Fresh, nodding toward me. “Is J.D. gonna be okay?”
“Yeah, he’ll be straight,” Fresh said as he patted me on the back.
“I’m cool,” I said, standing to my feet, grabbing the railing to keep my balance. “I’m not as think as you drunk I am.”
“Oh, cuz is hammered!” Fats said. “Keep an eye on him.”
“Yeah,” Jasmine said. “Somebody keep an eye on him. I’m going to the bathroom. Anybody know where it’s at?”
“I got him,” Dub-B said, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. “I think the bathroom is over there in the corner, on the other side of the bar.”
Just then, Timothy walked over toward me and showed me his phone. There was a text message from Amy on his screen. It read: I love you, baby. Good night:)
“My girl is so good to me, J.D.,” Timothy said. “I swear, man. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for this girl. It’s like God himself sent her to me.”
“Is that right?”
“Yeah, man,” he said, brimming with delight. “It feels good, too. Just to know that somebody is feeling you just as much as you’re feeling them. I’m telling
you. If my baby wasn’t feeling sick, she’d be right here with me right now.”
“What’s wrong with her?” I asked.
“She said she thinks she ate some bad oysters,” he said. “She just decided to stay in the room tonight. And I would have been right there with her if you guys wouldn’t have dragged me out tonight. Man, I love that girl.”
It was at that moment, as I stood there listening to Timothy profess his love for a girl who I knew for a fact was playing him like a fool, that I came to the conclusion that I had to tell him right then and there. Something about excessive alcohol consumption tends to make people brutally honest. I’d kept the truth from him for long enough. I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Timothy,” I said in a drunken slur. “We’ve been friends and roommates since we got to U of A, right?”
“Duh,” Timothy said.
“Well, I’ve got something to tell you that you may not want to hear.”
“What’s up, J.D? You know you can tell me anything.”
“Look, man,” I said, trying to find the right way to tell him his girlfriend was a ho.
Before I could finish the sentence, I noticed a very familiar profile standing across the room. I’ll be damned if it wasn’t Amy across the room grinding all up against some guy.
“Spit it out!” Timothy urged.
Turns out, all I had to do was repeat myself.
“Look, man!” I said, pointing across the room.
“I’m looking and I don’t see anything, J.D.,” he said. “I think you’re just drunk, buddy.”
“And I think you need to look a little harder, buddy,” I said. “Doesn’t that girl over there in that purple dress look familiar?”
“That dress isn’t purple, J.D.,” he said. “It’s blue. But now that mention it, that girl grinding her booty all over that guy sure does resemble Amy.”
He squinted. Wiped his eyes. Then they bugged out.
“Hey!” Timothy screamed, pointing. “Wait a minute…that is Amy!”
I didn’t even have time to set my drink down on the table before Timothy barged over toward her. I followed Timothy over and Fresh, sensing something was up, filed in right behind me without asking questions. Amy was bent over with her palms on the floor popping her butt like she was in a strip club. Her dress was hiked up and her thong was in full view. Timothy kneeled down and whispered something in her ear. I’m not sure what he said, but when Amy looked up, the expression on her face was as if she’d seen a ghost. Swiftly, Timothy grabbed her by both wrists and pulled her to an upright position.
“What the heck are you doing here?” he asked. “I thought you said you weren’t feeling good.”
“I’m just having a time good,” she said in a drunken slur. “I mean, having a good time.”
“Have you been drinking?” Timothy asked. “I thought you said you didn’t drink.”
“Who the hell are you and why are you interrogating her?” the guy she was grinding on asked.
“What do you mean, who am I?” Timothy asked. “I’m Amy’s boyfriend! Who the heck are you?”
I was so drunk, I hadn’t even paid any attention to the guy Amy was dancing with until he spoke up. When I finally took a look at his face, I couldn’t believe my eyes. Of all the people in the world Amy could have been dancing with, it just so happened to be Konceited. I hoped he didn’t recognize me.
“J.D.,” he said. “You better get your choirboy roommate outta here before he gets tossed up, man.”
“See, this is exactly why I never come to the club,” Timothy said, grabbing Amy by the hand and attempting to walk away. “C’mon. Lets go talk.”
“Amy’s not going anywhere,” Konceited said, grabbing her other hand.
“Amy!” Timothy said, looking back at her in frustration, wanting so badly for her to pull away and follow him.
“Timothy,” she said, letting go of his hand, “I think it’d be best if you just walk away. I’ll catch up with you a little later, okay? Sorry.”
That comment damn near knocked the wind out of me. The damage it had to have done to his pride and self-esteem was immeasurable. His own girlfriend had just chose another man over him right in his face. That was the epitome of public humiliation. She might as well have spit in his face while she was at it. At that point, Timothy should have just walked away.
“What is this all about?” he asked. “I don’t understand. How long have you been seeing this guy? Where is all this coming from?”
“Oh, me and Amy been going strong for a while now, patna!” he said, smacking her on the ass.
“Craig!” she shouted. “Not in front of Timothy.”
“I’m surprised your roomy, J.D., didn’t tell you,” he said, laughing.
“Oh, so you knew about this?” Timothy asked me.
For a moment, I was at a loss for words. I didn’t want to lie to him. I felt like the poor guy had already been lied to enough. Really, what could I say?
“I’m sorry, man,” I said. “I wanted to tell you before but…”
“And this whole time, I thought we were friends,” Timothy said.
“He really did want to tell you, fam,” Fresh said.
“Oh, so you were in on this, too?” Timothy asked. “I guess I’m the butt of the jokes, huh? I can’t believe you guys. You know what? From here on out, just act like we never met!”
“Timothy,” I said, grabbing his forearm, “calm down, man.”
“Don’t touch me!” he said, pulling away angrily. “You’re gonna get what’s coming to you. Just watch and see.”
Seeing Timothy storm out of the club made me feel like a piece of shit. I wasn’t even the culprit, yet I still felt guilty. I should have told him about my suspicions the first time it was brought to my attention, so I could’ve had a clear conscience about it. Even still, why did Konceited feel the need to throw me under the bus? He could’ve just as easily left my name out of it altogether. Not only did it cost me my friendship with Timothy, but it also could have cost me a passing grade in biology. Without Timothy’s help with my homework and studying for my final exam, I didn’t stand a chance.
“Hey, he had to find out sooner or later, fam,” Fresh said, tossing his arm around my shoulder as we walked back toward our section. “She had T-Mac out here looking like T-Wack!”
Apparently, Timothy wasn’t the only one having girl problems. When we made it back to our table, it looked like Dub-B and Jasmine were in the midst of a heated argument. Jasmine was shaking and crying and Dub-B’s face was beet-red. I stood close to get my ear hustle on. It turned out I didn’t have to eavesdrop at all.
“J.D., your boy is trippin’,” Dub-B said. “I am really gonna have to whoop his ass, yo.”
“Who?”
“Lawry!” Jasmine shrieked.
“That’s not my boy, for one,” I said. “But what did he do?”
“He grabbed my girl’s ass when she went to the bathroom,” Dub-B said. “I’m telling you, J.D. When I see him, I’m putting hands on him, fam. That’s all there is to it. I’ma embarrass him, B.”
“That’s crazy!” I said. “Are you sure it was him? I thought he liked guys now.”
“Yeah, I’m sure,” Jasmine said. “I know that stanky-breathed bastard anywhere. He was trying to holla at me and when I walked off, he smacked me on my ass hard as hell.”
“Where’s he at?” I asked.
“Jasmine said he went downstairs after he did it,” Dub-B said. “I’ve been trying to spot him, but there’s like a million people down there. Finding him in here would be like finding a needle in a haystack. I’ma see him soon, though. Mark my words.”
To ease the tension, Fresh poured up one more shot of Patrón for each of us. Getting more drunk only made matters worse. I was still sucking on a lime slice trying to deaden the tequila taste when Fresh nudged me with his elbow.
“I know I’m drunk and shit, so I might be tweakin’,” he said. “Don’t look now, but I think your girl Leslie is
on her way over here.”
“On her way over where?” I asked, instinctively turning to look over my shoulder as I’d just been asked not to.
Sure enough, when I turned around, Leslie was right in my face. Now, Leslie had no idea about me prepledging Kappa. That’s just the way I wanted to keep it for now, at least. Although I didn’t see any of the other Kappas near Konceited, I knew he wasn’t alone. Plus, I figured he was still keeping an eye on me. So when Leslie leaned in to give me a kiss, I purposely avoided her lips and gave her a hug instead. I hoped she didn’t notice.
“Hey, what was that all about?” she asked. “These lips aren’t sweet enough for you to kiss in public all of a sudden?”
“Nah, it’s not like that, boo,” I said.
“Please don’t tell me you’re acting shady because of these corny little boppers you got over here in your section,” she said. “I was just coming over to say hey. I’m not hating, am I?”
“Of course not,” I said.
“Whatever!” she said. “I’ll let you have your little fun. Just call me when you leave.”
Just watching Leslie walk away in her skintight yellow dress turned me on. By the time she reached her girlfriends over by the bar, I was rock hard. One of the girls in our section who was sitting at zipper level noticed my arousal. I felt her tap me on my thigh.
“Excited?” she asked, laughing as she nodded at the bulge in my pants and showed her girlfriends.
“How’d you know?” I asked, smiling.
“Yo, son,” Dub-B said. “Who is that dude all in your girl’s face over there?”
When I spun around I saw some guy crowding Leslie’s personal space, pointing his finger all in her face. By her body language, I could tell he was making her uncomfortable. I was so drunk, I could barely stand on my own two feet without wobbling. But I had to do something. Instinctively, I started walking over briskly. Dub-B, Fresh and Fats filed in right behind me without asking questions. Leslie was standing with her back pressed up against the bar and the guy she was having trouble with had his back to me. I was halfway to them when all of a sudden, the guy grabbed her by her neck with two hands and started choking her. His grip was so firm around her neck, she dropped her champagne glass and both of her feet were off the ground.
Next Semester Page 17