* * *
Alisha’s home going was one of the most depressing days of my life. I didn’t cry. I didn’t shed one tear that morning. Ashton tried his best to be strong for Miss Danielle, who nearly lost her mind at the grave site. Her brother had to carry her away, kicking and screaming, before Alisha’s body was lowered into the ground. I watched everyone weeping and wailing over Alisha. I watched half of the dance squad hyperventilate, some even passing out. I watched Ne’Vaeh burry her face in Aaron’s chest, unable to look at Alisha’s dead body. I think seeing Aaron with Ne’Vaeh kept my mind off of the despair that I felt from the past few months that I watched Alisha fade away. Watching the way Aaron cherished that girl, despite what anyone thought, only made me miss him even more. I needed love from someone, no matter how hard I tried to fight that need.
The crowd began to dissipate, leaving only Ashton and me standing there. We stood there, watching as Alisha’s ivory casket was lowered into the ground.
“My baby sure could dance, couldn’t she?” Ashton’s voice shook, eying her marble statue.
Our hands intertwined.
I lay my head on his chest, his heart beating in my ear. “Yeah, boo, she could,” I whispered.
Alisha’s Farewell party was supposed to be uplifting, but I sat there alone at the bar, depressed as hell. I must have been on my forth Mango Tequila Sunrise. I watched as Aaron mingled with his old teammates and Ne’Vaeh purposely talking to everyone but me. Jamie left as soon as the church service was over. Seeing Ne’Vaeh after not seeing her for over a year was overwhelming enough, let alone seeing her with another man. Jamie was devastated. I’m pretty sure Ne’Vaeh got a thrill out of hurting him. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have been so visually blunt about her relationship with Aaron.
“Cute couple, huh?” I heard the irritating sound of Kelissa’s voice over my shoulder.
I didn’t even bother to turn around to see her face. I rolled my eyes as she sat down on the stool next to mine, looking like a damn African beauty queen. She must have gained about fifteen pounds this past year and a half. She and her husband had a baby, born on Christmas Day. Kelissa never looked so beautiful. She’d finally gotten some hips, probably went from a size 5 to a size 9, but it looked great on her. She always did look good in all of her clothes, slim or thick. She wore a skin-tight, long-sleeved black lace dress that met her ankles. Her Senegalese twists were swept up into a bun. She’d cried so much that her foundation had begun to run, but still, her face was flawless. She looked like a got-damn black Barbie Doll. That bitch.
I hadn’t heard her voice since she put her two cents in at my wedding rehearsal dinner back in 2014. Whenever she came to visit Alisha, I made sure I wasn’t anywhere in sight. I hadn’t forgotten the events that had taken place at my baby shower. It didn’t have to go the way it did, but that bitch wouldn’t shut her mouth.
“OMG, just when I was starting to enjoy the sound of not hearing your voice, you just had to say something, to me at that.” I sipped from my drink.
Kelissa laughed a little. “Oh, are you still salty about the way your own mama set you up, talking you into having your baby shower at your best friend’s—Ooops. No, your sister’s boyfriend’s house, who just happened to be your baby’s father? Someone should have smacked some sense into your mama, too, shit. No, it didn’t have to go down like that, but I couldn’t stand by and watch Ne’Vaeh be so blind. She always looks for the good in the wrong muthafuckas.”
I looked at her. I mean, really looked at her. Her eyes were puffy as hell. She’d been crying since she stepped foot inside the church. Kelissa and Alisha had been best friends since they were in elementary school together. They had met in ballet class, and they had been inseparable ever since. They didn’t always get along, trust me, they fought like alley cats on many occasions. But let someone fuck with either one of them, oh, they were fuckin’ that person up on sight. I kind of felt sorry for Kelissa. I don’t know what she was going to do without Alisha. She admired Alisha, looked up to Alisha, and worshipped Alisha.
I looked at her, watching the concealer running down her face as she began to cry over her friend again. I signaled the bartender to make me two more drinks. Then I handed a Kleenex to Kelissa.
She looked at me, hesitating before taking the tissue from me. She dried her face, then blew her nose. “Thank you.” She looked at me, as she balled up the tissue. “It’s nice to see that your bitchery only lasts part time.”
The bartender slid me the two colorful drinks, and I slid one to Kelissa.
“To Alisha, one of the most talented dancers I’ve ever met.” I held up my glass.
“Naw, bitch, the most talented dancer.” Kelissa held her glass up to me.
I grinned at her, watching her take a sip of her drink. Her eyes grew bigger as she sipped from her drink.
I laughed out loud. “Good shit, huh?”
“Hell yeah!” Kelissa laughed a little, whipping her lips. “Girl, how many of these have you had?”
“This makes my fifth one. Wait, it might be my sixth.” I sipped from my drink.
Kelissa shook her head at me. “Girl, that shit is gonna sneak up on you. I sure as hell won’t be drinking anymore after this one, no ma’am!”
I watched as she drank damn near half the glass. “So, how are you holding up?”
She looked at me, setting her drink down. “I’ve known Alisha a long time, you know? She was so strong and so beautiful. Even when she found out she was dying, she didn’t let that stop her. She danced until she couldn’t dance anymore. I miss her already, Charlie.”
I nodded, going through my purse for my cigarettes. I hadn’t cried all day, and I wasn’t about to start now. “Yeah, me too, ’Lissa.”
Kelissa watched as I started to light the cigarette. “What the fu—Charlie, when the fuck did you start smoking cigarettes? You don’t even look right doin’ that shit.”
I damn near choked off that bitch. I didn’t know how muthafuckas smoked that nasty, strong-ass shit. “Girl,” I coughed, “I found this shit in little August’s diaper bag. I forgot to give it back to Jamie when I saw his ass today.”
Kelissa sipped from her drink, “Well,” She swallowed, “since you and I are on speaking terms again, and while we’re on the subject of Jamie’s ass, you need to check him, because he’s about to lose his fuckin’ job. You know the dude has been fuckin’ the coach’s eighteen-year-old daughter? I mean, the bitch just turned eighteen on May first. The bitch got pictures all over Instagram and Facebook! You ain’t see that shit?”
I looked at her. I was pretty used to Jamie fuckin’ nothing but the hottest, richest chicks. Ne’Vaeh was the only mediocre chick he dealt with. Well, yeah, she’s cute, but compared to the thick chicks he fucks with, she was considered mediocre. “Girl, I have never been Facebook friends with Jamie for that very reason. He’s fuckin’ with Coach Frost’s daughter?”
“Yes, li’l Brittany Frost got her a taste of that chocolate! And you know how the sayin’ goes: once you fuck with Jamie . . .” Kelissa bust out laughing, nudging me in my shoulder.
I rolled my eyes. “Girl, bye.”
“Girl, shut up. I’m tellin’ you, Jamie must have that golden Donkey Kong magic dick, because you bitches be sprung over that nigga, for real! That nigga’s dick put a spell on y’all ass!” Kelissa shook her head at me. “The dude is even fuckin’ Kent Sanderson’s wife! You know he married that pretty Hawaiian chick last year.”
My eyes widened. Oh, he was looking for trouble. “The team owner? Oh, Jamie, why? Dude, why?” I attempted to take another hit of my cigarette, but that smell was giving me a fucking headache, so I put it out.
Jamie’s behavior was similar to mine—self-destructive. He wasn’t satisfied with his life unless he had some type of chaos going on. Jamie had everything anyone could ever ask for, yet he still wasn’t satisfied. The fame, the looks, the talent, the money, the cars, the house, the clothes, the fans . . . He was a part of something amazing, and
he was about to fuck that up.
“Losing that girl fucked that nigga’s head all the way up.” Kelissa drank the rest of her drink. “Li’l Ne’Vaeh was messed up for a while, too, according to Alisha.”
I looked at her. “What do you mean?”
Kelissa shook her head at me. “You don’t even keep up with your own sister. That’s crazy. Typical Charlene—always thinkin’ more about herself than anyone else. I know Renée told your ass to go and visit her. It didn’t dawn on your selfish ass that Renée might have told you to go see her for a reason?”
I rolled my eyes. “Bitch, don’t start.”
“She was in the hospital, almost died and shit. Aaron had to go and damn near save the girl’s life. That’s how they hooked back up. The girl was sick as shit. Would have died if it hadn’t been for him.” Kelissa watched my nostrils flare. “Renée was Alisha’s nurse. When she came back from staying with Ne’Vaeh in Atlanta for a few months, she told Alisha the deal.”
I was pissed. Yeah, I know you’re thinking that I have no right to be mad, and maybe I don’t. But she always gets what she wants, and it’s always at my heart’s expense.
“Charlie, you mad, or nah?” Kelissa smirked, looking over her shoulder as Anastasia Jones and her girls hit the dance floor. It was time for the dance tribute to Alisha.
“Hell yes, I’m mad. What the fuck kind of question is that?” I exclaimed.
Kelissa looked back at me, laughing to herself. “Well, you shouldn’t be. Look what you took from her! She loved Jamie, always has, probably always will. You had a baby with the nigga, and you have the audacity to be mad at her relationship with Aaron? Bitch, you can’t have your cake and eat it, too.”
“Well, ain’t that what you’re supposed to do with cake? Eat it?” I rolled my eyes.
Kelissa laughed at my jealousy, as the room went completely black before white lights flashed around the room. Anastasia and her girls could work their bodies like nothing I’d ever seen. I’m not a lesbian (okay, maybe just a little), but that girl was sexier than a muthafucka. Those hips, those thighs, that ass—she worked every part of her body in a way that had the entire room of people dazed. Fuck the other dancers around her—they didn’t exist as long as she was on the floor. Darryl had to be one strong man to be able to have a wife as sexy as she was. I’m sure it made him want her even more when he saw her dance. He stood alongside the dance floor, watching her dance. He probably was thinking of all the shit he wanted to do to her as soon as he got her back to the hotel. It was a hot little tribute they did for Alisha. Anastasia had studied all of Alisha’s videos of our performances, and she did a dance melody so to speak. It was fantastic. Anastasia deserved an award for bringing Alisha back to life. I’m sure Alisha was in heaven smiling down at her.
* * *
Kelissa wasn’t lying—that alcohol started to hit me as soon as my ass stepped foot in my Bentley. I didn’t bother to stay all night. After we ate dinner that night, I left. It had to be around 9:00 when I got tired of looking at Aaron and Ne’Vaeh hugged up. After Ashton left, it was safe for me to leave, too. It was still early enough to catch Kendrick. He was this record producer out of D.C. who also deejayed at DC Live. He wouldn’t go into work until around 12:00, so if I could just make it home around 10:00, I could catch him just in time for a quickie. A dose of that long, chocolate dick would put me right to sleep.
I had so much on my mind. I had to do something to clear my mind of Alisha, Jamie, Aaron, and Ne’Vaeh. I cared about Jamie. I didn’t want the idiot to lose his job because of his weakness for new pussy. I had to do something to convince his coach and owner not to end his contract. Jamie had the opportunity of a lifetime, and he was blowing it. After I helped Ashton clean out Alisha’s apartment, I would pay Coach Thomas Frost a little visit. Oh, we had our history. I might have teased the dick a time or two back in high school. Both Coach Frost and Kent Sanderson were just as bad as the players they coached. Age was nothing but a number to any of them back then. I’m sure they hadn’t changed much. Their wives had no idea what type of lifestyle they lived. Coach Frost had no business being mad at Jamie for messing with little Brittany. Coach Frost was just sixteen when he had his first child. He was a young, sexy white man, who had a secret love for black women, as a lot of them do. I was not going to have a problem getting to him, nor to Kent Sanderson, who had been trying to get me in bed again since senior year in high school.
I was so deep in thought that I didn’t even realize that I was speeding, and over the solid yellow line at that. I made it half way home before red and blue lights flashed behind me.
“Shit!” I cursed out loud, pulling onto the shoulder of the highway. I hate fuckin’ cops. Cocky, arrogant, uneducated muthafuckas who are bitter because most of them make less than thirty thousand dollars a year. They get a thrill off of having so much control, and they often misuse it and take advantage of those who don’t know the law.
I rolled down the window, then placed my hands on the steering wheel as I heard the officer’s footsteps approaching.
He aimed a flashlight straight at my face. “Driver’s license and registration, ma’am.”
I laughed a little, reaching for my purse, grabbing my wallet. “Aren’t you gonna tell me what you’re pulling me over for, Mr. Officer?” I shoved my license and registration into his hands.
“Ma’am, you were driving left of center.” He huffed. “And you were going eighteen miles over the speed limit.” I didn’t look at him, but from the corner of my eye, I saw him aiming the flashlight at my license. He hesitated for a second. “Charlene Campbell?” He flashed the light in my face again.
I covered my face. He was blinding me with the light. “Dude, damn!”
He laughed a little, removing the beam from my face, bending over, getting a better look at me. “I apologize. Damn, it’s been a long time. I almost didn’t recognize you.”
I looked up into his brown eyes. It was Jayson Taylor. We went to school together. He was kicked off the basketball team when he got into a fight with one of the referees. The boy had skills, his temper was just off the chain. Did we have sex? Of course. He was the first man to give me multiple orgasms in one round. Until this day, it’s still hard to say that man’s name without getting wet. Ummm, Kendrick was gonna have to see me another night.
I smiled up at Jayson, “Officer Taylor? Wow, it’s been a few years. How have you been?”
He grinned. “You’ve been drinking, Charlie?” He handed my license and registration back to me.
“What you gonna do? Handcuff me?” I grinned.
“Yeah, if that’s how you like it.” Jayson smiled, biting his juicy lips.
I laughed a little.
“My shift is almost over. I worked a little overtime tonight.” He looked back at the police car, parked behind mine. “Wait here.”
I sighed as he walked back to his car. I put my license and registration away, then I checked my face in the mirror.
In about five minutes, I saw the police car cut off its lights then drive off. Just when I started to say, damn, where is Jayson’s ass going, he was standing outside my window. “Get out of the car.” He took off his campaign hat.
I made a face, looking up at him. “What?”
“Charlene, you’re drunk. I don’t know why any of your friends even let you out of their sight, as drunk as you are.” He opened my door. “Let me drive.”
I sighed, unbuckling my seatbelt, stumbling out of the car, making my way over to the passenger’s side. I got in, looking at him as he put the car in drive and sped off down the highway.
“Make yourself at home.” I kicked off my shoes as we entered into my bedroom that night.
Jayson grinned, removing his jacket, watching me as I bent over to pick up my shoes off the floor. “You have a nice place. The modeling industry must be treating you well. You’re doin’ the damn thing like I always knew you would.”
I approached him, turning around so he could unzip my
dress for me. I pulled my hair to the side as he unzipped my dress, sliding the sleeves over my shoulders. I grinned as he grabbed me by the waist, gripping my dress in his hands. “So you’ve seen me on the runway?”
“My wife is a press rep. She goes to lots of fashion shows. She really admires you.” He gently kissed my neck.
I quickly turned around to face him. Oh, I was so tired of those thirsty, horny, depraved men who used me to take care of whatever needs their wives or girlfriends neglected. All too often, I was fuckin’ or suckin’ some guy who only wanted me when his wife or girlfriend didn’t want him.
I looked up at him, “Isn’t your wife expecting you home?”
Jayson shook his head, pulling my body up against his. “No, she’s at a business conference in New York. The kids are staying over her mothers.”
I shook my head at him, laughing to myself. “Kids, Jayson? Okay, umm, I’m drunk, but I’m not that drunk. Why did you come here tonight other than to get some ass?”
“Why did you bring me here?” Jayson’s brown eyes searched my face.
“Well, you didn’t much give me a chance, now did you?” I looked up at him. He was tall, brown skinned, built. He was so handsome and wasn’t at all cocky like most men who looked like him.
“Couldn’t let you drive home drunk, Charlene. Where were you coming from anyway?” Jayson let go of my dress.
I sighed, sliding my dress down, standing there in front of him dressed in a lace nude camisole, lace boy shorts, garter belt, and stockings. I unhooked my garter belt and sat on the bed to slide off my stockings. I looked up at him. “Alisha’s funeral.”
It's Wrong for Me to Love You, Part 3 Page 6
