Chapter Twenty
Sable
The crowd at the pool party was dwindling, and we’d kicked back in the late-evening sun drinking margaritas and playing around in the water for a few hours. Neither Carla nor Roxy had ever resurfaced, so my mood had gone bittersweet. Taking this as an opportunity to talk with Jazz alone about what was more serious than any of them, I wasted no more time.
“Have you talked to your cousin yet?” I questioned Jazz again, wanting to stay consistent because, at one point, this boat ride and vacation would conclude. I’d found it odd she hadn’t brought him up.
“He called me earlier, so everything should still go as planned. You’re worrying too much about something I already told you I’d take care of.” She blew me off again, refusing to hook me up with his name or number. Something was telling me to lay off and come up with another game plan . . . just in case. Jazz didn’t seem too reassuring.
“All right, girl, I won’t bring it up again. It’s just that if I don’t get up with him for a new identity, Mike Mike won’t have any problem tracking me down. That just can’t happen.” I kept it real. “If he finds me, you’ll be burying your girl, and I ain’t holding you up on that.”
“Trust me, I know. Your problems have become my problems.” Jazz’s last comment was snide and hurtful since she held all my darkest secrets, and she was tighter with me than Roxy. Above and beyond all that, she’d created problems that weren’t even on my plate by encouraging me to steal from my deranged, unstable-ass boyfriend.
I let her words be the last of that topic, and the final time I’d share a heartfelt moment with her. As many times as I’ve been her shoulder when some anti-gay activist ran up on her, having her crying and hating the world, she had some nerve to act like I was intruding on her personal space. I wasn’t about to trip or blow it out of proportion, though. Hopefully, she’d just come through when it counted for sure.
“The real thing you need to be concerned about, though, is Carla.” Here she went again changing the subject. I swear to God if she didn’t come through, I was going to kick her ass. I’d blown hella money, making her birthday unforgettable and her wardrobe ten times better. If I’ve wasted my get-right money on her lying ass, it was going to be hell to pay, for sure. I had to let it go and move on, for now, anyway.
“Um, well, since she hasn’t come back, maybe I have blown it with her. You know how us girls get.”
“Naw, she’s probably teaching you a lesson for playing hard to get. You heard Tyrell. She gets pussy and money. It’s nothing for her to be pressed so hard on you.”
“Then there’s no reason for me to be pressing so hard for her.” I got cocky, pointing at my body to prove the point.
“Miami breeds bodies. Look around. I suggest if you’re truly feeling her, not to stunt for us—well, Roxy’s old hating ass anyway. I already know what’s up.”
“Whatever. We’ll see what’s up. Come on, let’s go back to the room to get ready for the next event on the agenda.”
“I already know what’s up, girl. I’m just waiting on your slow-acting ass to catch up. We can bounce. Ain’t no way my ass gonna show up late to a drag queen show.” Getting up, we made a beeline for the room. I was ready to blow a blunt and chill out for a few before heading to the Captain’s Party. The sun had beat me down, and I was a little more than salty my woman crush hadn’t come back to check for me.
Jazz
I was so tired of being caught up in the middle of drama. Between the rocky relationship of Mike Mike and Sable, and the low-key cheating shit with Mike Mike and Roxy, and now this pop-up girl, Carla, everyone seemed to have something crazy going on that I had a hand in. You’d think with it being my birthday, the light would be on me. Coming to Miami was turning out to be a bust. And trying to help my girl was starting to look like it was going to blow up in my face. Once again, I had to deflect the topic and pray on the inside that my cousin wanted to look out for her. Paradise truly wasn’t what I expected it to be. Craps out.
Roxy
The 1800 and uncountable nuts I let loose to the thoughts of finally being a moneymaker’s girl had put me out cold. Hearing laughter and the door lock being rammed back and forth woke me up. I leaped up from my come-induced sleep to Jazz and Sable, trying to get in. With the bullet and bottle in hand, I slammed the safe shut, tossed the toy into my bag, and flew to open the door. I’d have to find a time to get back for my pain and suffering payout before the money made its way back to Mike Mike. I didn’t look at it as stealing—after all, Sable would take all the blame for any stolen dollars.
“Damn, my bad. I was in here drinking, trying to get right for tonight. I didn’t want anyone to walk in on a bitch drunk and passed out,” I half-lied, really bolting the room down while I searched for Mike Mike’s stolen cash.
“Oh yeah, my bad earlier when I came at you about your weave. I know it’s hard out here without a sponsor.” Sable tried to throw shade my way again, snidely looking innocent like she’d done nothing wrong.
“Don’t worry about it, friend. Sometimes, it is what it is.” I took her under-the-belt shots now because later, I would laugh at her demise. Mike Mike was going to take her out of the game, and with pride, I’d be the one to help him. She looked at me oddly but didn’t reply to my comment. Remembering what my boo asked of me earlier, I had to keep cool and play my position.
“Well, give me that bottle. I need to get where you’re at.” She snatched the 1800 and walked toward the closet. Then she proceeded to get drunk, tilting it up, spilling some over on herself and the bathing suit I’d claim in a few hours.
Chapter Twenty-one
Sable
The main ballroom for the Captain’s Party was just as decked out and pristine as the cabins were. I hadn’t felt the least bit of distress or regret spending out of what was now my private stash. I had to admit that being the boss of our clique for this trip had my ego swollen. Florescent lights danced throughout the dimly lit ballroom, immediately sucking me into a trance. Rainbow-colored balloons, centerpieces, and banners were draped strategically throughout, representing gay pride and unity. A few tables had flyers or poster boards propped up, advertising a particular performer or group.
Tonight’s itinerary included a drag queen show, something my virgin eyes had never experienced. Unlike many custom ship ballrooms, the Sunrise had a stage and runway with two stripper poles on each end . . . not to mention projection screens running real-time club footage. Two cages surrounded the dance floor and another stripper pole in the center. Already crowded just thirty minutes into the party, it was apparent Tyrell hadn’t lied when he said this spot would be turned up. The freaks were out and all-girl or not, the vibe hypnotized me. Everyone was dancing with all guards down. Jazz’s crew knew how to party.
Roxy and I hit the bar for a couple of waters and to scope the club out. Jazz had caught the eye of a stud first thing through the door and got sidetracked. Truthfully speaking, everyone was dressed to impress, rocking the latest fashions and kicks. A few studs had caught my eye too. Even though Roxy’s mood had slightly improved, she still wasn’t showing any interest in being here, which was cool as long as she didn’t attempt to ruin our energy or kill our vibe. Carla was heavy on my mind. I kept scanning the scene for her but was coming up dry. It was hard for me to admit I was acting so pressed over a chick, but I was digging the thought of something fresh and new.
We grabbed up our drinks headed fast in Jazz’s direction as we saw the chilled bottle of Moët on the table. I needed the water to bring me down some from my high. The blunts and shots had taken over early. Jazz and I had gotten white-girl wasted at the pool. Walking across the room, I felt as if I were being watched, so I moved with grace. My goal was to leave an air of mystery. I was starting to lose my cool, knowing Carla was close by. She had to be.
“Ladies, this place is bananas. It ain’t a G-spot in here that don’t want to get licked,” Jazz said, giggling, as we walked up to sit down. “T
he lesbos in the ‘D’ don’t get down like this,” she remarked, looking across the room at the stud that’d checked for her earlier.
“Yeah, it is,” I replied, turning to lock eyes with none other than Carla. Standing across the room, she’d attracted me like a magnet. Her style was fresh . . . fire-engine red studded-out blazer, white-collar button-up, denim True Religion jeans, and a pair of navy polo boots. Her appearance was everything of a manly thug, but I knew underneath that red and white snapback Miami Heat’s hat was an impersonator. I couldn’t help but smile and nod, letting her know she had my approval. Returning the gesture melted me inside, knowing I’d met my match.
“Good, then let’s enjoy,” Jazz shouted, breaking my thoughts but not my stare. It was the truth. I was curious, and tonight was going to be the chance for me to find what I had been secretly seeking. Jazz happily poured us each a glass of Moët. I began to sip and seductively dance for my stud like eye candy.
* * *
My girls and I were tearing it up on the dance floor. Pulling out all of my best moves, it was a celebration for Jazz’s twenty-second birthday and a liberation victory to be from up under Mike Mike’s lock and key. The DJ had the crowd going crazy playing all my favorites—Jeezy, Drake, and J. Cole, just to keep the list short. All of the newfound attention had my ego slightly swollen. No doubt, I was looking good and dominating the crowd. I was truly feeling myself. The attention added had me on a new high. I tried not to focus in on Carla, but either my mind was playing tricks on me, or the thought of having something new seemed very intriguing. Never having any interest in chicks before tonight, I was entering dangerous and unknown territory. And from the stares coming from ole girl, she definitely didn’t care about me claiming not to be into girls earlier. Fuck it. The night was young, and I was in it for the long haul, so, hey, it was whatever.
“Shorty, I’m only gonna tell you this once, you’re the illest,” Nicki’s song, “Your Love,” rang out through the speakers. Every time the beat banged, so did my body.
“Sunrise is the truth,” I shouted to my girls as I was gigging to the song.
“So, you trying to get Carla to come over here, or what?” Jazz asked, whispering in my ear as I danced back on her. I was in the zone, and from her slanted red eyes, so was she.
“Yeah,” I answered back, taking a sip of my drink, not even caring about being real tipsy. I couldn’t have a chance at playing behind my girls’ back, so fuck the cat being out of the bag. “Ole girl been watching my every move since we walked over here.” I grinned, feeling myself never losing my beat with the music. “It’s gonna be on.”
“Whelp, that explains why you out here freaking yourself, touching and popping all that booty. I heard that, boo. You better do it.” Jazz high-fived me and started getting busy to the beat too. A femme walked up behind her, and she immediately started doing her thang. I secretly wished I had the guts to just go with the flow and live my life without limits or boundaries. All that jaw jackin’ at Wet Willie’s was just a front to make Carla’s girl jealous.
The buzz dominated my mind. No longer was any part of me thinking rationally. I was lifted off the weed, and the bottomless liquor was making my body want to dance, so I was moving seductively. Yeah, I intended to get some attention, and it was most definitely working. A few random girls came over to dance, and I was very appreciative with my suggestive moves. They thought I was dancing for them, but I was just trying to entice Carla more . . . and it was also working. Each time a chick ran her hands across me or pulled me in closer for a more intimate dance, Carla’s expression hardened. She looked jealous, and that shit was turning me on. As she stood at the head of the room with her hands firmly in her pockets, I desperately wanted her to end this game of cat and mouse. If she approached me again, I’d be more than willing to give in.
“Her fine ass got you hooked, huh?” Jazz quizzed, noticing my stare down with the Carla. “Welcome to our world. You can’t continue to front like you don’t want to try it,” she said, kissing me on the cheek. Smiling back at her without hesitation or rejection of her words was all the confirmation she needed to know that I was bicurious.
“Well, don’t be rude. Go see if she wants to dance.” Jazz’s commands didn’t stop. Trying to nudge me in ole girl’s direction, she walked off, pushing up on another stud that was standing nearby. My homegirl was undeniably in her element. She wanted me to be like her, but bossing up on a girl had to be something totally different than leaning on a dude.
Focusing back in on my chosen stud, she grimed me, continuing to stare my chocolate body up and down. In the zone, I continued to move for her, belly dancing, licking my lips, letting her know I was available and ready to go full throttle. For some reason, I couldn’t back down, even though Mike Mike was a faint thought in the back of my mind. As she nodded at my seductive suggestions, adjusting her snapback hat to mask the blush engraved on her face, I was sure she was on her way over. All of a sudden, leaving me hanging and caught up in my feelings, Carla winked, disappearing into the crowd.
“Welcome to the stage, a veteran and the one who makes all this freaky shit possible,” and the room erupted with applause and screams. “Yeah, y’all know how the Sunrise does it. Come on, baby, let’s show these ladies how you get down.” As the beat of a music intro came on, Carla mysteriously appeared in front of a thin cloud of smoke. Seconds later, she had the entire crowd, including me, mesmerized. When Carla made her way through the crowd, she found me and showed all the way out. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Roxy with her cell out, recording, but I was too all in to care.
Chapter Twenty-two
Gianna
“Oh my God! Oh, hell to the fuck naw!” Hyperventilating, I leaned over the rail, trying to let my lungs gather some oxygen. Carla might as well have driven a knife straight into my heart with her bare hands. The ballroom walls had started to close in on me. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t speak. I was dizzy with fury. Sitting through my so-called devoted woman caressing and serenading someone other than me was pure punishment. I couldn’t take my eyes from the heart-wrenching pain as I witnessed another person who claimed they loved me betray me in a way that couldn’t be repaired. Sneaking on this boat to see her behind-the-scene behavior was stupid. Point-blank period. She’d shown me her true colors time and time again, but I ignored them.
If it hadn’t been clear at Wet Willie’s earlier that I’d become old news and replaceable to her, shit was sparkling bright right now and crystal clear. I watched Carla seduce ole girl from only a few feet away. Disguised in a wig, I was inconspicuous. Had she not been stunting for that newbie and trying to impress her like she’d done me months ago, maybe the supposed love of her life would’ve stood out amongst everyone else in the room, wig or not. It had been hard not to run up on the stage and do them both in. Having learned my lesson earlier, ole girl was a true match, and I had to catch her totally off guard. That was a given.
Lighting a laced blunt, one of the many habits Carla hooked me on, I trembled as I blew the poisoned smoke into the ocean breeze, trying to scheme on a plan of revenge. It was wrong for coming here in the first place, but I had, and now both they asses had to pay. Starting to pace back and forth, I opened my purse to assure myself the pistol was still in place. Pulling the universal key I used to unlock the doors to clean cabins, I made a dash for what I’d found out was Sable’s room. Knowing Carla wouldn’t have another bitch laid up in her room, they’d definitely be heading to Sable’s at one point during the night, and without question, I’d be waiting and hiding, and once they got there . . .
Chapter Twenty-three
Sable
“Hey, ma, can I kick it with you for a minute?” Carla coo’ed, easing up behind me, kissing the nape of my neck. Her lips were soft and slightly wet. Sensations shot up and down my spine. I nodded and took her hand, once again, following her lead. Roxy saw the hookup and dipped her own way. Watching her exit the door, I assumed she was fed up with all of Jaz
z’s and my over-the-top gay behavior.
“So, were you feeling my show for you tonight, or what?” she probed, walking me over to what I assumed to be her private booth.
“You seemed to know I would like it, putting me on blast and all,” I blushed, not knowing what else to say.
“See, I know you better than you think. All that stunting shit at the pool . . . Please tell me you’ve gotten it out of your system.” She stared at me, intently.
“Yeah.” I bit at the corner of my lip, all of a sudden shy. I’d never been this way before, but Carla was shaking me up.
“I hope you’re really ready.” Carla reached over to rub my back. Leaning in, she kissed my neck once more, making my body jerk. Her touches were making my heart skip beats, and my body became timid. Everything in the room started to slow down.
“So, that’s how you feeling?” she asked in tune with my body’s movements, making sure her lips stayed on my ear a little longer. This time, when she waited on my reply, her hand rubbed alongside my side, and her chin rested on my neck. She swayed to the beat. This chick had the impression of a dude on point and was turning me on for real.
“Well, you making me feel that way,” I responded, not even giving a fuck about holding back. She had gotten my vagina wet, so I was ready to let her explore. I started to grind, encouraging her to touch me even more. I got lost in the beat of the music and the smell of her cologne. I moved close up on her neck and kissed it gently. This was new. I was drunk and high. “Can we go back to your cabin? I know you’ve got a private one.” Fuck it. I wanted all in. I was about to live a new life anyway. Maybe it would be with girls, and Jazz and I could do this all the time.
“I’d be a fool not to. Let me give you what you been missing,” she whispered, leading me out of the party.
Girls from da Hood 14 Page 20
