by Love Belvin
More than usual, since the semester began, I was not in the mood for acting. It was one thing to be in close proximity with Aivery to pretend we were still solid, but it was an entirely different matter to plan matching outfits.
Yet I’m here…
A senior quarterback of the most prestigious HBCU in the country, I had no personal time to take a shit. Between practices, working out, my obligations to the Panthers, and finishing up on my classes, time was a nonrefundable commodity. Still, I died a slow suicide by hanging out in the cafe’s lounge, doing…shit.
With Aivery’s best rendition of puppy eyes on me, I finally answered, “Getting custom clothes for an event we don’t even know we’d win doesn’t sound economical on any level.”
Her expression melted downcast. “You know we’re going to win, Ashton.”
“I don’t. Dre, over there, is peaking in popularity stock,” I informed, no matter how wild the reach was. “If he picks the right upperclassman to start dating, we could be wiped completely off our three-year winning streak.”
“Bwaaaah-ha-ha!” Aivery spat a mocking guffaw his way. “Bullshit. Dre could never! He barely made captain this year. Only because he hangs out with us.” She stuck her tongue out at him playfully to assuage the blow.
But it was not. Aivery was all about appearance and popularity. Her claws cut and killed.
“Ohhhhh!” Al choked on a laugh, needling Aivery’s jab.
Typically I’d join in, but this afternoon, the humor in it all missed me.
Dre’s crooked smile made me believe she may have possibly offended him. “‘S’all good. I always got next year when y’all gone.”
Aivery’s head swung up to me when she felt my body harden to stone. I didn’t acknowledge her, though.
When she needed something resembling a response from me, she continued. “It’s our last year, Ashton.”
“Isn’t Sherell due that weekend?”
Sherell was Aivery’s older sister who not only adored her, but was having twins. Aivery was expected to be there to welcome the babies into the world.
Aivery shrugged. “I can always arrange for a flight after the festivities—”
“Look at her,” Andrea hissed.
Within seconds, all of our eyes shot across the room. Mine immediately landed on tall firm legs, quickly ambling to the athletic counter to place an order. I wasn’t quite sure about Andrea’s subject, but my mood was further frustrated by, once again, noticing Tori McNabb.
“Look at her hair,” ShawnNicole noted. “I can do so much with it, instead of leaving that fucked up weave in.”
“She’s diseased. I wouldn’t go near her,” the derisory in Aivery’s voice twisted my gut.
“Nah. McNabb’s cool,” Al tried explaining.
“Word.” Dre agreed, snickering. “Strong as hell, too.”
“She looks it.” Andrea snorted, starting off a round of laughter from her and Aivery.
While there was familiarity to the energy of their humor, today it offended me. Cutting up and shooting the shit at others’ expense had always been a pastime for us. Why had it been an annoyance to me these past few weeks?
“You guys thinking she’s cool is a specific result of Ashton working out with her in the mornings. You know all it takes to make or break a reputation on this campus is a word from our crew,” Aivery declared. While gaping at Tori, at the counter, her eyes narrowed. “No way could she be telling the truth about having a man with money interested in her.”
“But I know what I saw. That bitch stepped out of next year’s model Cayenne Porsche. My uncle’s courting it, so I know!”
Cayenne?
That was the loaner I had two weeks ago when I dropped my Panamera off for service. My service account rep said it was the only loaner available, but I suspected he was trying to upsell me. They were known to try and entice customers to upgrade. It was obvious to me the night Andrea was yapping about was the one I dropped the poor girl off.
“The only people on this campus with Porsches are Ashton and Hakeem McDowell, and they’re both cars.” Aivery tapped her chin as she thought hard. “Unless she’s whoring—and she can’t be because no one’s buying pussy packaged like that—it has to be someone off campus.”
“Well, she swore it was someone she was dating when we saw her earlier, Aivery.” Andrea laughed. “She said she had a date with him, so we shall see.”
“When?” Karmen’s head whipped around.
“This week.” Aivery answered. “She said they’re going to a show, and her dingy ass better not be lying or I’m going to roast her all the way down to the last line of her BSU resignation letter.” Her eyes and mouth were tight as she swore that pledge.
The entire group howled, knowing how vicious Aivery Cooper could be.
“Wouldn’t that be crazy? If that bitch is lying about fucking a baller?” Andrea highlighted.
“Who said she was fucking him?” I asked, hella-confused.
“For a bitch who looks like that to attract a dude pushing a Porsche of any kind, you know she’s, at least, blowing him down every chance he gets.” Aivery visibly shuddered. “Ewwwww! She’s just gross.” The group—except for me—chuckled. “I’m dying to see her ugly, broke ass fall on her face.”
I winced at those harsh words. I watched Tori take food to go, because she had no one to eat with here in the cafe, so of course she’d go. Her shoulders curled over and her feet dragged in her new sneakers. That’s when I remembered.
“Hey. Do you know of any second-hand stores around here?” Her question in the library earlier. “I got myself into some bullshit with my big mouth. Don’t sweat it. I’ll figure it out.”
She was looking for something to wear to a show. But did she really have a date, or was Tori putting on for my superficial friends here?
As my crew laughed at Aivery’s threat, suddenly and clearly, I was slapped in the head with something I hadn’t felt in fucking forever: inspiration. I shuffled to my feet, realizing I didn’t have her room phone number and had to get it.
“Just remembered a meeting I have.”
“Wha—” Aivery trilled. “Where?”
“The athletic compound.”
“I can go with you!” Aivery called behind me.
“It’s a closed meeting and you know you can’t roam around there,” I reminded her, pulling out my cell.
“Shit! Make sure you tell Jones I plan to keep fighting for inclusion!”
Those were the last words I heard, and recognized the passion behind them right away. Aivery had been fighting for cheerleaders to have access to the athletic compound for a year now, but unsuccessfully. Cheering wasn’t considered a sport and, therefore, its group didn’t need space on that secluded portion of the campus.
I couldn’t think about that bullshit. There was a more pressing matter to tend to: Tori.
“Is that all?” I asked my mother while turning into the parking lot of the Garden Boutique Mall.
“That’s all he said, Ashton. Those motherfuckers are playing dirty,” my mother swore as I held my cellphone to my ear. “Then I heard they put him in the same unit as Blocck Boi $even. You know they’re doing this to fuck with him, right?”
My chest constricted as I pulled into a parking space, the sky darkening into an orange hue.
“Let’s just see what Levi says before we jump to any conclusions,” I tried calming the both of us.
No matter how convincing my resolve, I was scared as shit for my cousin, Brick. He was high rolling in custody. Between law enforcement and his enemies from Blocck Boi $even, he had to sleep and shit standing on his feet.
“Shit. He’s being paid more than the federal reserve for a third world country, he better have something useful like placement in solitary confinement until his expedited court date.”
“I gotta go.” I took a cleansing breath. “Love you, lady.”
“Love you, baby.”
When I hung up, my attention swung to my rig
ht. Instantly, I was distracted from my woes back at home. Tori was physically tense and fidgeting at the same damn time.
“This y’all local mall?”
“Kind of. It’s where some of us come when we’re in need of…” I scratched my neck. “…higher end products. Plus, it’s on the low-low. You don’t find many BSU people here.”
Her narrowed, untrusting eyes swept the area around my car. “So why are we here? And whose car is this?”
“We’re here to get you something to wear on the date you told my friends you have on Friday, thanks to this car that belongs to me.”
“I don’t get it. You’ve got a car and a truck?”
“That night I picked you up from in town when you were walking in the rain, the Cayenne Porsche truck was a loaner because this baby—” I tapped the steering wheel “—was getting a maintenance checkup. Everyone on campus knows my car. Otherwise, nosey ass Andrea Brown wouldn’t have created a romanticized narrative of who you were with that night.”
“So, this your fault?”
“Not exactly, but I do feel a part of your ruse now and can try and subsidize it. And we start in here. Let’s go.” I opened my door to exit. “I have a meeting tonight I can’t be late for.”
When I stood to my feet outside, I sensed Tori following suit. When she closed her door, I tapped the fob, locking the doors. It had taken close to two hours to get here from when I left Aivery and the crew in the cafe. Although just minutes behind her leaving from getting her food, it seemed like Tori had disappeared. I went to her dorm room and her roommate, Samantha, told me she wasn’t there. Then I shot over to the athletic compound, scouring the building and fields for her, all to no avail.
I ran into Collin, Trisha’s assistant, who told me Tori mentioned going to the common area on her floor. That’s where I found her: on the floor, legs spread out with her food and the yellow pages in between. It was clear to me, in that moment, she was determined to find a second-hand shop. For once, we were on the same page.
I held the door for her once we reached the building. Tori followed me down the shiny replica-cobblestone floors until we arrived at the boutique. Inside, it was as slow-paced as the halls, which was ideal.
“Hi! Welcome to Tessie’s.” A young caramel woman greeted with large, expectant eyes. “I’m Bella. How can I help you?”
“I called earlier to request a stylist. My name is Ashton.”
“Oh!” Her eyes bounced between Tori and me. “That’s me. I spoke to you earlier. Is this your girlfriend?”
I snorted. “Hardly. Let’s call Ms. McNabb an unusual ally.” Then I turned to Tori, whose eyes were big as saucers as she stood with one arm crossed over her, holding the other while her fingers curled and flicked successively. “Dress, jumpsuit—”
“Or rompers,” Bella interjected. “I see you have lengthy legs. We have a gorgeous sequin romper just in. Ashton mentioned the event being formal.”
Before Tori could speak, I made clear, “Perhaps tuxedo hot pants, but no romper on my dime.”
Bella coiled visibly, and when we looked to Tori for an answer, she shrugged with one shoulder.
I turned my back to Tori again. “Let’s see a few mini length dresses. I’m sure Tori’s date would like to be reminded of her age while taking her out for a night on the town.”
“Let’s get started, shall we?” Bella clapped her hands, shoulders lifted in sheer excitement as she pulled in a deep breath.
Thirty-five minutes and four dresses later, I glanced up from my Blackberry. Tori cowered out of the dressing room in a long-sleeve embellished black mini dress with a plunged neckline. I knew this because Bella gave a full description of each dress before Tori tried it on. This one hit different than all before it. The black lined mesh beneath the jeweled embellishment looked good against her rich brown skin.
As Tori stood tautly with foot on the other, she bit her lips together. If I was crazy, I’d think she liked this one. She didn’t try hiding a smile like with all the others.
“You like it?”
“You like it?” she countered sans the hidden smile.
Bella joined us mutedly, hands crossed over her pelvis as she smiled wistfully.
“I do, but…” My eyes roved up her colorless toes and hairy legs to the pink cotton cupping her breast underneath the lush material of the dress. “Why do you have that sports bra on?”
Tori shrugged meekly with one shoulder. “It’s my only bra.”
My face fell into my palm.
“Oh. Ummmm…” Bella lilted. “You don’t need brassiere support with this dress. However…”
I caught her hesitation and nodded respectively. Lifting my head, I asked the painful question through gritted teeth. “You only have one bra, and it’s this sports bra?”
“Yeah. This one’s new, though. I just got it ‘cause my old one didn’t fit anymore.”
Old ‘one’?
I swung my index finger at Bella, lost for words. But she, too, understood questions and commands without words.
“We have a line of Mahogany undergarments here. They are pricier than your Calvin Klein or Victoria Secret, but it’s because they’re hand-sewn using extraordinary fabric. They also melanin-match very well,” Bella explained professionally with an undertone of pleading. “What size are you?”
My regard swept up to Tori, and I found myself holding my breath. When those eyes fell downcast and that one shoulder lifted, my face dropped into my palm again.
Firmly, Bella announced, “I’ll get my measuring tape,” and took off swiftly.
“Ashton…” Tori started.
“When you take off the dress, try not to rip it.”
Tori’s eyes flashed and head bucked. “Fuck you, Spencer.” She stormed back into the dressing room.
I grumbled, “I wouldn’t go that far.”
Seconds later, Bella appeared again and slipped behind the floral curtain of the changing room. I got lost in my phone, playing solitaire. Steve Irwin died from an occupational injury. The guy had been celebrated for weeks at this point. Google had been in talks of buying this new video-sharing platform website, YouTube. The shit was unreal. It had just gotten popping. So many irreversible, Internet revolutionizing events happening in this brief span. Those fuckers from Facebook were my age and younger. My age! They rolled out their social media services to colleges and we’d played around on it, setting up profiles. I told Dre and Al we’d been too comfortable with our parents’ fortunes because these white dudes were creating wealth, independently, for their great-great grandchildren. In my case, I’d been relying on football to generate my own—
“Ashton!” My head shot up and mouth collapsed. “Is this how it’s supposed to fit?”
I couldn’t tear my fucking eyes from the wine hued laced bra holding tits belonging to a goddamn porn star. Her waist was femininely narrow, highlighting her curved hips in the sports leggings she wore here under the oversized gray sweatpants. My mouth went dry and my voice morphed into damn crystals as she waited impatiently. How the fuck could McNabb hide all that shit under gym gear?
In my peripheral, I could sense Bella returning, but couldn’t gain my faculties to speak or move.
“Perfect! So we know your size,” Bella announced cheerfully. “We have this in several colors in lace, and in a combination of lace and satin. What would you like?”
I inspected each inch of Tori’s face for answers to her betrayal, and she gaped my way for answers about this shopping excursion. Somehow, I was able to snap back into the here and fucking now.
My eyes closed and I swallowed nothing down my dry throat. “Half dozen,” I croaked out then licked my lips. “Half a dozen bras and two dozen panties. Two to match each bra.” My eyes landed on Tori as I gained my wits. “Can you at least pick the colors? Damn!” I stood, leaving the dressing room. “I’ll be looking at shoes.” Before either could speak, I was headed toward the front of the boutique.
A fancy sequin dress, more bras
and panties than I ever had or wore at a time in my entire life, a pair of stockings—no, hosiery—with the fancy line down the back of the leg that I’d probably rip, and high-heeled Jimmy Choo’s because, apparently, that brand of shoes had a flatter arch I could walk in, were all being rung up before me. The shoes…We spent thirty minutes on me trying on shoes and walking in them. It was a little embarrassing, but seeing Ashton get into helping me get ready for my fake date won over my ego.
“That’ll be $2,318.89.” The girl, Bella, smiled as she hit us with the damage I’d been worried as hell over.
I bit my lip, trying to drag my heavy neck to look at my co-conspirator. I had nothing close to three hundred dollars to my name, much less two-thousand, three-hundred. But when my eyes finally landed on him, ignoring me, Ashton pulled out a credit card smoothly. His face was still tight with annoyance. He seemed fifteen years older the entire way here—in fact, he’d been acting that way each time I’d seen him without his friends. He still handled me with an edge of coldness, but now each moment I’d been spending time with him, he’d been helping me in some way.
He turned to me and grated with a tight forehead, “You have to practice walking in those heels. Remember, the old women’s track field is pretty much ghost town now that they’ve gotten a new one. It stays clean and well-lit at night. You can go out there for a lap or so to practice.” He pulled in a deep breath through his nose. “You can get your hair, nails, feet, —” His eyes swept over my face “—eyebrows and all that done on campus. Do you know where the hair and nail salons are?” I nodded.
“They’re some of the most talented around the country. They’ll hook you up. I’ll cover it before you go on Friday. You just have to call to make your appointments ASAP. Let me know if you have any questions.” I was too overwhelmed with details to even nod my head. “And Tori…” My eyes snapped back up to his tight face. “Practice walking in the fuckin’ shoes.”
Before I could respond with whatever dumb version of “okay” I could come up with, he turned away and bags were being handed over the counter. Ashton carried all but one, and silently we walked out of the mall and drove nearly an hour back to campus. We only spoke when agreeing Ashton should drop me off at a secluded part of the campus where I could catch the shuttle to my dorm. It was close to nine when I made it back to my room. The first thing I did was lay stretched across my bed, hoping Ashton didn’t miss his meeting.
