by Kiki Swinson
“All right, stay strong then, but keep in mind your girl keep that fire.” She pulled out a bag of weed and ran it across my nose.
It smelled so good I could have snatched it out of her hand, but I had fought too hard to let her break me. “Bri, put that shit back in your purse before Ma come up in here,” I said as low as possible.
“Ha ha.” She laughed. “Such a square.” Then she placed the bag back in her purse. “Guess I should have rolled up and hit it before I got here. Good I didn’t, though. You and this weed-free shit would have blown my high.”
“Shut up.” I had more to say, but the ringing of my cell phone distracted me. Sasha’s name lit up. I hadn’t heard from her since the dinner and figured she had been busy like us. “What’s up, Sasha?” Then I hit the speaker button so that we could all chat.
“Just getting off work. What you up to?”
“Enjoying my day off. Shit been hectic at work. But Bri and I at my crib chillin’, she about to touch my hair up.”
“Okay, tell Bri I said what’s up.”
“She can hear you, I got you on speaker.”
“What’s up, bitch?” Briana said.
“What’s good?”
“Over here trying to get your girl to roll up with me. But she trippin’. You still blowin’?”
“Absolutely.” Sasha giggled. “Could never give that up. It’s my sanity.”
“That’s what’s up. We’ll hook up, then.”
“Just hit me up,” Sasha offered. “Hey, I’m glad I caught you two together. What’s up with Saturday night? How would you both like to hit the club up for some fun?”
I looked at Briana, and she was all smiles. With all the working we had been doing lately, the party life for us had all but come to an end. A night out at the club sounded like the type of therapy we needed.
“Yes,” Briana and I said at the same time.
“All right, all right. Sounds like a plan, then. Saturday night it is. I’ll text you the club information, Porsha. And ladies, I promise we ’bout to turn all the way up.”
“Shit, let’s do it.” Briana was hype. “It’s been a minute since I shook my ass.”
After we all said bye, I ended the call. Saturday couldn’t come fast enough. I was ready. “Sasha coming through,” I said.
“No doubt. We need some excitement in our life. I guess having her around ain’t such a bad idea.”
I was relieved that Briana had accepted her because if she hadn’t, I would have had to shut it down with Sasha.
“See, I told you.” I smiled. “Hey, Ma,” I said. She leaned down and kissed my cheek. I noticed she was still in her robe. I hadn’t seen her since early morning when I had left the house. When I came in, I checked on her and she was taking a nap. I really wished she would get out more. I just had to figure out a way to make that happen without upsetting her.
“Hey, Ms. Jen,” Briana said.
“Hey, Bri.” She headed toward the coffee pot in the kitchen. “So that’s Sasha you were just on the phone with. That wouldn’t happen to be Sasha that you two were once friends with, is it?”
“Yeah that’s her,” I confirmed.
“Really . . . Hmmm . . .” All the pausing told me something was up. Briana kept fixing my hair. And I just waited. “When did you start back talking to her?”
Now I remembered why I hadn’t mentioned that I had run into Sasha—to avoid this moment. Briana had been enough to deal with when it came to the surprise of Sasha. “Well, actually I ran into her at work. She came into the branch and we started talkin’.”
“And just like that you all cool again. She calling you and whatnot?” Ma remembered the confrontation with Sasha.
“Yeah,” was my only response. There was nothing else I could say.
“You know I remember when you all were really good friends. And I don’t know . . . I always got the feeling that Sasha was selfish. Everything you all did was all about her. If not, she was angry and couldn’t do it.”
“Yo, I remember that too.” Briana wasted no time agreeing. I wished Ma would stop. I had just got Briana to accept Sasha. The last thing I needed was for Briana to start having some kind of negative feedback.
As much as I wanted to defend Sasha, I had to be honest with myself. “I guess she could be a little self-indulged sometimes. But we were kids then. We’re all grown up now. And people can change, even Sasha. The least we can do is give her a chance.”
“Aye, I’m trying to give her that. But she better not make me regret it.” Briana was serious.
“You’re right, people can change.” Ma tried to sound optimistic. But I knew she too would have her eyes on Sasha. I shook my head. I would have I told you so coming from both sides if Sasha started acting crazy. But I was not about to worry about that. Saturday night we were hitting the club for some much-needed turn up action. I could not wait.
CHAPTER 7
Saturday night finally arrived, and it was on. Briana and I had spent all day shopping trying to find something cute that we could flex in. Sasha had texted me Friday and told us to meet her at Club Stylz. Briana and I had never been there. It was a new spot on what is considered to be the upper-class side of Oakland, but from what I had heard in the streets, a lot of Oakland ballers hung out there. According to Sasha, the cover charge at the door was a hundred dollars. I almost screamed “hell no.” Briana, on the other hand, convinced me that the price would probably be worth it, since we wouldn’t have to duck from any shootings or worry about bottles flying across our heads. That was the type of thing that happened in some of the clubs we frequented. It just seemed people took their hood ways with them everywhere they went. So I was looking forward to enjoying myself without looking over my shoulder. After driving for nearly half an hour, we were finally in view of the club.
“Damn, they got valet,” Briana said in awe. That was something we definitely were not used to.
“I see,” was my uneasy reply. I slowed down behind the cars as they turned into valet. “Let’s find our own parking space.” There was no way I was allowing them into my car. I’m sure they were not used to parking cars that looked like mine. No way. Driving past the entrance, I spotted the parking lot. But again I became uneasy. The lot was filled with Porsches, Maseratis, BMWs, you name it.
Briana and I looked at each other. There was no way I was parking my 2003 Toyota Camry beside those cars. I was not ashamed of my ride, but I did not want to be seen climbing out of it. Briana knew what I was thinking.
“So what are you going to do?”
I continued to look around the lot. “I don’t know,” I mumbled.
“Just park right here. Fuck it. ’Cause I ain’t walkin’ far in these heels.”
“I was thinking the same thing.” I admitted as I scanned the area for the closet open space.
“Let’s do it, then. We gon’ be the baddest bitches in there anyway.”
Briana was right, this Toyota wasn’t stopping shit. I found a spot close to the end of the lot. We climbed out and made our way up to the entrance. After paying our cover charge, we were inside. One look at the high ceilings and lounge areas, and we were both impressed. I had only seen clubs that looked like this on television. The club looked like a scene out of the show Power times ten. It was nice.
“Look at this badass club,” Briana said as we stood still for a second and took in the full view. “And we been wasting time and money over at Club Taj, leaving early just so we can miss the drama.”
“For real.” I agreed. “But Club Taj only costs ten dollars to get inside,” I reminded her.
“True that,” she agreed. “But this shit straight bangin’. And the DJ on fire.” Briana snapped her fingers. She was ready to hit the dance floor already.
Still sightseeing, we made our way through the club seeking out the bar where Sasha had told us to meet up with her. All eyes were on us. I guess all that time we had spent shopping paid off. Briana, with a body that had been compared to Nicki Minaj,
was flexing in her all-black sheer lace short jumpsuit with a pair of pumps. Her caramel-colored skin glistened in the club lighting. Then you had me, a super bad redbone with a set of full lips. I stood every inch of five-six, which I considered to be the perfect height for a woman. Not too tall and not too short. My short red cutout one-shoulder dress fit my butt perfectly. I could feel all those wondering eyes on me, but I was not easy to bait.
“East Oakland in the house,” Sasha yelled, stepping out of nowhere.
“In the motherfucking flesh,” Briana bellowed over the loud music.
“I see you two came to slay tonight. Y’all killin’ in those outfits,” Sasha complimented us, observing us from head to toe.
“Well, you know how we do.” I grinned. “But you ain’t lookin’ too bad yourself.”
“And this is true,” Sasha joked. “Did you have trouble finding the place?”
“Nah, it was not hard at all. The GPS on my phone led us straight here. We arrived down to the minute.”
“Yo, Sasha, who is the DJ?”
“DJ Kid Nick. He from the Bay Area. He brings the heat always.”
“I see he killin’ it.” Briana was rocking to his mix of Usher’s old love in the club.
“He always on point. I promise you won’t catch him slackin’ the whole night. From what I hear, he travels between here and New York. He DJs at all the hottest spots,” she shared.
“That’s what’s up.” Briana kept rocking her head to the beat.
“Let’s grab some drinks. You know I got my fake ID.”
“I’m down. Get me a shot of Hennessy.” Briana chose that brown right away. I knew she was ready to be on one.
“I’ll take a martini, dry, with two olives.” I followed. I wanted to keep it light. Home was not right around the corner. The last thing I needed was a DUI. Briana had gotten one a year ago and was just finishing up with all the crap they put her through to get her license back, and the money she spent on license renewal and city fines was ridiculous. I did not need that aggravation.
Once we had our drinks Sasha led us to a table she had reserved for us. It wasn’t VIP, but according to Sasha the table was five hundred dollars. Good thing she had taken care of that because I had already dropped a bill to get inside. I would have gladly lounged at the bar or stood all night.
We were all sipping our third drinks and mellowing out. But when the DJ dropped “Set It Off ” by Lil Boosie, we all rushed the dance floor. And that’s where we stayed for the next three songs. We were all on one and loving it.
“I’m about to have to sit down,” I yelled over the music to Sasha and Briana, who both looked like they were just getting started.
“Ah, come on, Porsha. Stop being such a prude,” Briana joked.
“Prude, my ass. I need a break.” I laughed, then turned and headed toward our table. What I didn’t tell them was that I wanted to remove myself from the eyes of this guy who had been watching me all night. He was seated in a VIP booth close to our table, and he had a perfect view of the dance floor.
Back at the table I was relieved to finally sit down. Just as I did, the unknown guy who had been watching me approached my table. My mouth instantly went dry. Why was he at my table? Was he that bold? In that moment I wished I had stayed on the dance floor or that Briana and Sasha had returned to the table with me. But here I was alone, and the brother was fine.
“Hi. I know you probably noticed me watching you all night and were probably starting to feel uncomfortable. So I just thought I’d come over and introduce myself. I’m Reginald Shaw.” He extended his hand to me.
Not sure if I should shake it or not, I stalled. Then just as I was prepared to shoot down anything he might attempt to say, one of my jams came on: Usher’s “Bedtime.” I was weak for that song, so when the question if I would dance with him floated off Reginald’s lips, I found myself having absolutely no control as I replied yes. The song and the dance turned out to be everything I could have hoped it to be and not wanted it to be at the same time. Wrapped in the song, I lost myself in his embrace. The song was over way too soon, but that one song and that one dance had loosened me up. Once it was over, we headed back to my table I didn’t question the fact that he joined me without being invited. Briana and Sasha still had not returned.
“I’m Porsha,” I announced, realizing I had not given him my name for the dance.
He smiled. “That was going to be my next question.”
A smile spread over my face without warning. “Yes, first-name basis is always good.”
“No doubt. So what brings you to Stylz?”
“I’m hanging out with my girls. I’m sure you seen them.”
“Yeah. I noticed you dancing with two other females.”
I nodded my head as I started to jam in my seat to the remix of “5 Star Chick.”
“Can I get you something to drink?”
“Nah, I’m cool.” I said, continuing to bob my head, but keeping it cute. “Do you hang out here all the time?”
“From time to time. I try not to club too often. But occasionally my crew and I come out to VIP and pop a few bottles.” He smiled and I wanted to melt. If I had to guess his height, I would say he was about six-three. He possibly weighed about two fifteen, muscular build. His skin tone was milk chocolate, and he had the straightest set of teeth I had ever seen on anyone. The conversation turned out to be good. Before I knew it, time had flown by and it was time go. Before walking away, he had asked for my number. I wanted to say no so bad, and I would have, but he smiled and the numbers slid off my tongue one by one. Briana and Sasha finally reappeared just as he was walking away. We stood outside the club and chatted briefly.
“So who was that cutie all up on you?” Sasha inquired.
“Bruh was fine as hell.” Briana chimed in.
“Nobody.” I tried to play cool. I didn’t want them reading too much into it.
“Don’t look like nobody to me.” Briana used sarcasm. “That brother was at that table for a long time.”
“So you two were watching.”
“Hell yeah, why you think it took so long for us to come back? Please tell me you don’t think I’d dance eight songs straight for nothing. You know me better than that.”
“I should have known you both were up to something.”
“Come on, tell us about him.” Sasha grinned. “Give us the juice.”
I looked at them both and playfully rolled my eyes. They wouldn’t leave me alone until I told them something. “His name is Reginald Shaw.”
“What?” Briana snapped her neck to look at me. “Reginald . . . sound so preppy. He must be a college boy.” She said it as if it was almost a crime. “But his swagg damn sure does not say preppy boy.”
“Reginald.” Sasha said it as if she was studying it to form her own opinion. “I guess his name is okay.”
“Thanks, Sasha. Briana thinks everyone’s name should sound like it can catch bullets,” I joked.
“Whatever. So what else happened?” Briana kept on being nosy.
“We danced, then talked. That’s about it.” I shrugged my shoulders.
“And?” Sasha grinned. They both wanted a juicy tell-all.
“That’s it. Oh, I did give him my number.” I was nonchalant. “But he probably won’t use it. You know how guys be out tryin’ to see how many numbers they pull in one night. I’m cool with not hearing from him, though. I really don’t know why I gave him my number. I don’t have time for dating.”
“Listen, for that fine-ass dude, I would make the time. Stop being so boring.” Briana smacked her lips.
“I am not boring. But you of all people know how busy I always am. That’s why I stay single. Guys want and expect too much in a relationship.”
“I know what you mean. But I can’t front. I wish I had someone. Especially a piece of eye candy like that,” Sasha said.
“Shit, that’s all I’m saying.” Briana cosigned.
I thought for only a brief sec
ond about all they said. While it sounded good, I knew what was best for me at the moment, and that was to stay focused on work and getting Ma back out into the world. Then I could get back into school. A relationship would only distract from that. So after thanking Sasha for inviting us out, Briana and I had headed off to my car. Sasha said she had to wait on the valet to bring her car around.
CHAPTER 8
I had been lying around the house all day in my robe. It was my first day off in four days and it had been raining nonstop. So instead of being out enjoying a nice day, I was home lounging on our living room sofa, eating kettle corn, and watching one of my favorite Lifetime movies, Small Sacrifices. The movie, which Farrah Fawcett starred in, was so good. Sad but good. No matter how many times I watched it, I just could not figure out how a mother could murder her own kids for a man, and never blink twice. Not once in the movie did she ever seem remorseful. Each time I watched it I cried, and this time was no different. Ma refused to watch it with me. She said it made her angry.
Gripping my Kleenex in my hand, I dabbed my tears for the hundredth time. The ringing of my cell phone annoyed me. I hated when I was indulging in a good movie and someone interrupted me. I cursed under my breath, swearing it had better not be my job. I didn’t recognize the number as one of the lines from the bank, but that didn’t mean anything—they had tricked me on more than one occasion, calling private or from a different number. Either way, I was prepared to say no.
“Hello,” I breathed into the phone, my tone annoyed. I wanted to send a clear message: Do not bother me on my day off.
I was wrong. “Hi, Reginald.” Hearing his voice on the other end had been a surprise. I really never expected him to call. It had been at least two weeks since we had met, and I hadn’t heard a thing.
“I didn’t think you’d remember my name.”
I recognized the humor in his tone. “Really. And what would make you think that?”
