Around the Way Girls 8

by Tina Brooks McKinney

  She had me, I was busted. I remembered we were supposed to meet the counselor but I’d been putting off that visit even before my mother died. The truth of the matter, I didn’t feel like going to school. Ebony had told me it was a waste of time and money. She said all I needed was a high school diploma because of the economy and I was inclined to believe her. Every day on the news, they talked about the college graduates who couldn’t get jobs because of the economy.

  “Damn, I forgot. Why didn’t you call and remind me?” I realized my mistake as soon as the words left my mouth.

  “Bitch, I’ve been calling your ass for weeks. You know what! Fuck this shit.” She stood up and pushed her fries onto the floor. “I ain’t gonna beg your ass for nothing. Peace out.” She walked to the door with her head held high.

  I felt like a piece of crap. I ran after my friend. “Val, wait. I’m sorry.”

  “Talk to the hand.” She kept on walking, taking a piece of my heart with her.

  We’d been through so much together, I couldn’t believe I’d taken her friendship for granted. “Bitch, I said I’m sorry, damn it.”

  “Reshunda, I ain’t up to no games. It’s been a fucked-up day—so I don’t need any of your bullshit.” She continued to walk.

  I had a hard time keeping up with her because Valencia was at least two feet taller than me. Plus, she was damn near running trying to get away. I reached out and grabbed her arm but she snatched it back.

  “Damn.” I stopped in my tracks. I’d never seen Valencia act this way, and suddenly I knew exactly how she felt.

  “What?” she spat. Her hands were balled into fists, which was also a first for me.

  I’d seen Valencia jump on someone else but she never took this stance with me. I wasn’t really worried about her hitting me, but it bothered me nevertheless. A small group of people who’d been standing around on the corner watched us.

  “Would you calm your angry ass down so I can talk to you?” The last thing I wanted was to create a scene because it could make the situation a lot worse than it already was.

  “It’s hot as a hell out here. I’m going home.”

  “Fine, I’ll call you later.”

  “Whatever.” My mind told me to run after her and try to make things right but my stupid pride would not allow it. I was caught in the middle. My best friend and my cousin hated each other and each of them were vying for my attention. I was left feeling guilty for spending time with either of them.

  “Shit.” I started walking home, but with each step I became more and more determined to either squash whatever the problem was with Ebony and Valencia or tell them both to leave me the fuck out of it. Ebony never came right out and said she didn’t want me to be friends with Valencia, but she’d get this funky look on her face every time I mentioned her name.

  “School over already?” Ebony startled me when she pulled up to the corner in a black Honda Civic.

  “Where the hell did you get this car?” I asked as I took a step off the curb. It wasn’t a new car but it was certainly newer than my father’s car and it was sporty.

  “A friend. Get in.”

  I was nervous about getting into the car. I was pretty certain she hadn’t stolen it but who’s to say her friend didn’t steal it. I didn’t want to get caught up in some bullshit, especially if she hadn’t bothered to question the owner about the validity of its title. I slowly walked around to the passenger side and got in. Hell, I didn’t even know if Ebony had a license, but my stupid ass still got in the car with her.

  As soon as my ass hit the seat, she took off, barely giving me time to close the door and put on my seat belt. “Damn, can you slow the fuck down? You ain’t in New York.” I immediately regretted my decision to get in the car.

  “What?” Ebony asked as she eased her foot off the gas and gave me a sheepish grin. “Hey, isn’t that your little friend?” I followed her finger as she pointed to Valencia. She blew the horn and had the nerve to wave as she sped by. I wanted to crawl under the seat when I saw the look on Valencia’s face.

  “Why the fuck would you do that?” I demanded. If I had any doubt about Ebony trying to break up my friendship with Valencia, it was cleared up then.

  “What are you talking about? You told me to be friendly to her.” She had this silly look on her face as if she didn’t understand why I was so upset, but I wasn’t fooled by her little act.

  “If you were going to fucking wave, why didn’t you stop and give her a ride?” I was furious.

  “Oh, do you think she wanted a ride?” Ebony asked, trying to play dumb.

  “It’s a hundred fucking degrees outside. You know what, stop the fucking car. I’m not playing these games with you.”

  “Are you serious?” Ebony’s foot never left the gas as she sped up the street.

  “Yes, I am.”

  Her lips curved into a pout as she pulled the car over. Ebony was a spoiled bitch, used to getting her way, but it was not going to happen this time.

  “I’m getting my nails done, if you go with me, I’ll treat.”

  She was trying to buy me off again, but this time it was not going to work, even though my nails were a hot mess.

  “Ebony, you need to understand and respect that Valencia is my friend. What you do to her, you do to me. If you don’t like her, that’s your problem, but you’re going to have to find another way to deal with it. I won’t be stuck in the middle.” I slammed the door behind me and took off at a slow trot to fix things with my friend.

  “What do you want?” Her voice was devoid of emotion when she opened her door.

  “Valencia, stop it. Can I come in?”

  She stepped out of the apartment, closing the door behind her. I could tell she’d been crying.

  “I thought you said you were going back to class.”

  She wasn’t going to make this easy for me, but if the shoe were on the other foot, I wouldn’t have either.

  “I stopped by to apologize for acting like an ass for the last few weeks.”

  “That’s an understatement.”

  Her verbal barbs were beginning to annoy me. She folded her arms across her body, but to me it felt like she was pushing me away.

  “But you have to recognize the part you played in it,” I pleaded, trying to get the focus off me.

  “Me? What did I do? I didn’t change, you did.”

  She looked astonished that I would even go there with her.

  “I didn’t change.” I wanted to say so much more but didn’t know where to begin.

  “Yes, you did.”

  She started counting off my infractions on her fingers.

  “You stopped taking my calls and you damn sure didn’t bother to call me. Hell, we don’t even walk to classes anymore. What’s up with that?”

  She was flinging things at me so fast I didn’t know which one to address first.

  “Damn, it sounds like we are dating and shit.” I started laughing, but Valencia was still holding onto her anger and failed to see the humor I was trying to interject.

  “Who put that dumb shit into your head? Wait, let me guess. I’ll bet money it was your cousin.”

  “What does my cousin have to do with this?” Now I was mad too.

  “She has everything to do with it and you know it. We have never been at odds with each other until she came along.”

  I couldn’t take it anymore. The two closest people in my life were pulling me in different directions and it was tearing me apart.

  “I said I was sorry, dammit and I’m done begging. Y’all got me twisted.”

  Chapter Six

  EBONY QUEEN

  “Damn, there ain’t nowhere to park!” Part of me was agitated because all of the spaces were taken, but the other part of me was elated because that meant the newsletter the club sent brought out some new patrons. New patrons equated to mo’ money for me. Things had changed since my first night at the club—I became a headliner with a whole new set of perks. They told me they were
going to do a feature article, but I had no idea it would become a full-blown campaign. The other girls in the club hated me, but I was used to that. I was about to leave the parking lot when one of the club’s bouncers came out to meet me.

  “Ebony, leave your car with me, I’ll take care of it.”

  “Another perk?” I asked, grinning from ear to ear. I liked the star treatment the club was giving me.

  “Something like that. The boss doesn’t want anything to happen to you.”

  “I like the way he thinks. Thanks, Rick.” I blew him a kiss as I stepped out of the car. I knew the names of all the guys working the club but it was part of my strategy. If I treated them right, they would look out for me if shit ever got ugly in the club.

  “Not a problem,” he said, winking at me. He wasn’t a bad-looking guy, but I wasn’t looking for a love, I was there to make money and he couldn’t afford me.

  “This baby is new, so make sure you take good care of her.”

  “I got you, ma.” He winked again as he got behind the wheel. I watched him safely maneuver my car into a tiny space before I went inside. They say membership has its privileges, and I was going to take advantage of each and every one offered to me. I entered the club through the side door heading to the back rooms to get dressed. I was eager to get out on the floor; the sound of dollars hitting the floor called my name.

  I was making a lot more money than I originally anticipated, for a few hours a night. However, the real money wasn’t made on the floor, the real money was in the back rooms, exclusively available to the men that could afford to be there. Access to these rooms wasn’t granted to everyone and it wasn’t only about the money. Money was paramount but you also had to be someone to enter those doors. These were the rooms the celebrities visited where their privacy was guaranteed. I hadn’t made it inside those sacred rooms yet, but I knew it was only a matter of time. I did, however, luck up on a man who sponsored my car.

  Cheetah’s didn’t approve of us meeting the gentlemen outside of the club, but as far as I was concerned, what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. I did a F&B with the credit manager of Honda in Covington: He fed me and I bled him dry. I sucked the cum out his balls and the money out his wallet. Not bad for a few hours’ work and the best part about it, I didn’t have to share that shit with anyone.

  Cheetah’s made all the dancers parade down the stairs into the main showroom but I wasn’t feeling that shit. It was a nightly cattle call with each girl trying to outshine the other. I stood at the top of the stairs and watched the other girls move. It was ridiculous to me and if there wasn’t money involved, I wouldn’t have done it, but I was about making mine.

  I waited until the last dancer took her spot on the floor before I descended the stairs. We were required to dance two full songs before we worked the room for private dances. Unlike the other girls, I didn’t compete for attention, it was given to me. I waited until the first record had played before I strutted onto the stage. I struck a pose in the middle of the stage as the other dancers slithered around in various stages of undress.

  Their bodies begged for money and to me, made them look pathetic. I waited. As the second song ended, the girls left the runway to dance in their designated areas. Little, if any money had been tossed on the floor and what was there wasn’t enough to pick up. They had wiggled their asses for two songs straight and hadn’t made a dime. This equated to a freebie and Queen Deep didn’t do shit for free.

  The DJ played an oldie called “Gold Digger” by Jamie Foxx. I used the drumbeat as an intro, following it with my hips. I’d borrowed a white shirt from my uncle’s closet. It fell to my knees and touched the tops of my thigh-high fishnet stockings. The first three buttons of the shirt were undone. A red tie, loosely knotted, was around my neck. The tie was so wide, it could almost be used as a sash. I had on black spiked heels, which made my legs appear even longer. I also had on a hat that I’d purchased from some thrift store. I knew I looked hot and when I was sure all eyes were on me, I tipped the hat and threw it on the floor.

  Queen Deep took over my body and I watched as she worked the runway like a hooker on the stroll. Everyone in the room appeared to move in slow motion, giving her their undivided attention. It was like taking candy from a baby. As she began my striptease, money rained inside and around her hat. I was having what could only be described as an out-of-body experience because Queen Deep was doing things I never would have done and I was granted a bird’s-eye view. She unbuttoned the rest of her shirt and allowed it to drop to the floor . . . more money hit the floor. More money rained . . . the harder she rocked her hips. Soon there was a thundershower in the joint when Queen Deep went deep; hips dipping on the way to that first bounce of ass flesh, what she called the uptown bounce because it pulled money out of men’s pockets. The bounce started with the firm, full roundness of her ass and jiggled, working its magic up into her titties. She cupped them in both of her hands as they shook like jelly. When she bent over, spread her legs and touched her toes, the first twenty-dollar bill hit her in the crack of her ass . . . and stuck there. She didn’t realize how turned on she had become until the floor became covered with bills, and then a sudden rush of blood to her clit pushed her pussy into overdrive.

  She got down on her knees and began seducing the women who were brave enough to enter the club. I was a little surprised to see them but it didn’t make Queen Deep stop her seductive dance. She turned me on, so I can only imagine how they felt. She parted her legs and waited, finger crooked, singing, She gives me money! Her voice was hetero-sexy! She paused, waiting for them to give her enough motivation to continue.

  “Do it,” the blond lady said as she slid a fifty-dollar bill into the moist strip of cloth that barely covered Queen Deep’s swollen lips.

  “Thank you baby.” She blew the woman a kiss and the crowd went wild; even the dancers stopped shaking their money-makers. She made a clap with her ass cheeks to the music and then she fondled my twins. My nipples were taut, standing tall and firm as she blew on them. She pulled my hat toward her, fondling the money. She pulled the bills from her stocking tops and G-string and stuffed that into the hat too. The men were begging her to take off the rest of her clothes, but I wouldn’t let her. By the time the song ended, I didn’t need Queen Deep to do my dirty work anymore. I could handle it from here on out because I had the confidence to dance alone. I collected my money and left the stage. I was elated and floating on a currency high. I couldn’t wait to get to my dressing room to count my money.

  Some redheaded bitch snatched my arm and twirled me around, causing money to spill out of my hat. Behind her were several other dancers. The ballsy bitch looked like she wanted to bust a cap in my ass and was the obvious spokesperson for the group.

  “Who the hell are you and what da fuck was that about?” She spoke with an Italian accent. Her tiny breasts bounced against her thin chemise cover.

  “I beg your pardon?” Homegirl was lucky I didn’t punch her in her fucking face. I didn’t take too kindly to people putting their hands on me. I snatched my arm back, daring her to try to touch me again.

  “That stunt you pulled out on the stage. You’re not supposed to be grandstanding and shit.”

  “Yeah,” the other ladies cosigned. They moved closer to the redhead in what could be construed as a show of solidarity. There was not a black face among them and it didn’t matter. I was glad to be back in charge because Queen Deep was a lover, not a fighter, and I was about to whip some ass if any one of them heifers stepped to me again.

  “Then I suggest you take it up with the manager ’cause I’m not the one.” I tried my best not to laugh at the hatred on their faces.

  “Hey, what’s going on here! Break it up,” Trent, the manager, announced as he walked into the center of the congregation. He was a no-nonsense type of guy and most of the ladies were afraid of him. I walked past the ladies with their mouths wide open into my private dressing room and slammed the door.

&n
bsp; “Get back on the floor. You aren’t getting paid to just stand around, damn it.”

  I had my ear pressed against the door, listening.

  “Who is that bitch and how did she get her own dressing room?” one of them demanded.

  “That ain’t none of your business and if you want to continue working here I suggest you move your ass,” he replied. I laughed this time because he put those bitches in their place. I was in the process of changing my clothes when I heard an urgent knock on the door.

  Thinking I was going to have to handle one or more of the ladies, I snatched open the door. “I know you bitter bitches don’t want no parts of me.” I held a straight-edged razor in the palm of my hand and I was prepared to use it.

  “Oh, my bad.” I stepped back from the door and allowed Trent into my room. I placed the knife on the vanity just in case I needed it. His eyes roamed my body but I didn’t attempt to cover myself from his lustful looks.

  “Damn, you know how to use that, ma?” Trent asked, eyeing the weapon.

  “You damn right and I’m not afraid.” Actually, I was a little afraid, but I wasn’t about to let him or anyone else know it.

  Trent’s face broke into a smile, as if he wasn’t worried about the nasty business in the hallway. “Just be careful you don’t wind up cutting yourself.”

  “No worries, I know how to handle mines.” If he noticed the double entendre he didn’t acknowledge it.

  “You were fantastic tonight. I’ve gotten so many requests for you, I can’t keep up.”

  “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” I thought he came in my dressing room to complain, but obviously that wasn’t the case. I wanted him to get to the point so I could continue making money.

  “Yes, of course.” Trent was a man after my own heart. He loved money just as much as I did. I walked away from him to finish getting dressed. I was confident he would look at my fat ass, so I made sure I jiggled it extra hard. It didn’t bother me to give him a free show. He was going to be my fast ticket to the top. I pulled a gold lamé two-piece outfit out of my bag that I’d picked up from the Rave.