Secret Society

by Miasha

  “Don’t worry ’bout it, babe, I can handle his scrawny ass,” Tina said.

  “Let’s go to Friday’s,” Khalil suggested. “On me,” he added.

  We walked across the street to the parking lot and played eenie meenie minie mo to determine whether we were going to drive James’s Suburban or Khalil’s convertible BMW M3. The BMW won, so we did ninety the whole way to T.G.I. Friday’s, damn near sliding off of our seats every time we came to a stop.

  We all filled a booth at the restaurant. We drank Long Island iced teas, ate Jack Daniel’s entrées, and bugged out.

  “Tina, you might wanna get you a doggy bag,” James came out and said.

  “For what? I’m gonna knock this off right here,” Tina replied.

  “Yeah, but you know you gonna want some more when you get home, you know, for ya midnight snack,” James joked.

  “I can just take yours ’cause ya bony ass ain’t gonna eat it all.”

  Tina and James was always goin’ back and forth bustin’ on each other’s weight. It was fun chillin’ with James and Khalil. They always had me and Tina crackin’ up.

  Spending time with Tariq was much simpler. He appreciated it when I would show up at his office during the week and treat him to lunch or something. I chose weekdays to be with him because that was when James had classes and basketball practice and O was usually making his runs. Sometimes I would go with Tariq to show people properties. Not a bad job at all if you like sales. And the commission was heavy. It would be newlyweds buying their first home together or businesspeople relocating from other states or couples with too many kids for the two-bedroom apartment they called home. It was interesting. I learned a lot. I started thinking about buying my own place.

  “You really want to do it?” Tariq asked.

  “Yeah,” I said simply.

  “All right. I’ll take you Monday. You’ll be my client.”

  “Sounds good to me,” I said, licking my ice cream.

  Tariq and I were sitting on a bench in Fairmount Park along Kelly Drive, spending some quality time together. He was the romantic type who liked to chill in intimate places.

  “What type of house are you looking for?”

  “I want a thorough-ass crib,” I said, staring into the sunny sky.

  Tariq laughed. “You’re so hood,” he said.

  Monday came and I went to Jersey to Tariq’s office. He treated me like a client instead of his girl. He showed me a few available houses in Jersey, implying that he wanted me to move out there with him. But that wasn’t happenin’. He showed me a few houses around Philly. They were all right but not exactly what I was looking for. It took seven weeks, but I finally found one in Haverford Township right outside of Philly. It was a three-bedroom town house with two and a half baths and a full finished basement. The main floor was newly renovated with recessed lighting throughout, hardwood floors in the living and dining rooms, and a gourmet kitchen with all stainless-steel appliances, granite countertops, and a flat-top stove. It was hot, especially for me, a single twenty-year-old unemployed girl from Master Street.

  By that summer I was the shit. I had my own place and I was seen in a variety of hot cars. One week I would pull up to the Julius Irving games on Parkside in Tariq’s milky white Jaguar XK8. Tina was in the passenger seat. The next week Tina would be driving Khalil’s M3 and I was in the passenger seat. We were the flyest girls out there. Bitches were hatin’ like crazy, especially because we were young bucks. And the niggas was on us the minute we showed up at any of the games. Tina was pimpin’ hard on dudes, but I was cool with the three I had so I wasn’t doin’ nothin’.

  Tina was messing with Khalil and this other guy named Drake from North Philly. Drake was a crazy dude with more bodies than a city morgue. I begged her to stop messing with him even though he was breakin’ her off. So she told him that she was HIV-positive. Tina was stupid like that, but she got rid of him. It was cool, though, because Khalil was really feeling her and he did just about everything for her. She wanted for nothing. I remember days she would call him up out the blue and ask for like three thousand dollars. He would hop in his Beamer and bring it to her, no questions asked. I was impressed and was kind of jealous that James wasn’t capable of that, but I let it ride because I knew that once James got drafted I was first in line.

  Besides, I wasn’t doin’ too bad myself, and it showed when my birthday came around at the end of the year. Tariq bought me my own duplex in the Northeast. It already had tenants in it and everything. Typical of him. He was all for black people owning property. And it was a foreclosure so it didn’t break him. Plus, he really cared about me and was trying bad to win me over. He was at the point in his life that every man comes to once he’s achieved most of his goals and is tired of playing the dating game. He was ready to settle down, and I guess I was the first suitable female to come along at that time.

  O bought me a diamond bracelet. He told me he had one more surprise for me. When he pulled up in front of my house in a 2002 Range Rover, I had no clue that it was the one more surprise. I almost fainted, but I didn’t let him see that. He was the type of dude that had to believe you was used to getting shit like a $80,000 car for a birthday gift after only one year of knowing a nigga. So I kept my cool. Besides, I wasn’t a fool. Niggas who bought their girls cars were smart. They knew they could take it back in a heartbeat the first minute she started trippin’. Needless to say, I kept my shoelaces tied tight.

  James somehow scraped together some money and took me to Jamaica for a week. It was like a double date. Khalil took Tina. We had a ball. James and Khalil were straight-up hood niggas, which meant you could go anywhere in the world with them and have fun. They knew how to make the best of any situation. Being in the islands helped too, but they made the trip. When they weren’t busting on people, they were taking us on crazy shit. We did everything from Jet Skied to scuba dived. We even panhandled just to fuck with people. We would have skydived if it weren’t for Khalil being afraid of heights. It was a week well spent, and even though it didn’t cost nowhere near my other gifts, it was the most memorable. I couldn’t imagine spending a week in Jamaica with Tariq or O, anyway. Tariq would have probably spent the whole time buying time-share and O probably would have wound up finding a weed connect and setting up shop. So, even though the trip exposed how broke James was compared to O and Tariq, I was glad he was the one I spent it with.

  I was on cloud nine. Nothing made me happier than great sex and money, and that’s what O, James, and Tariq were good for. With the three of them, I was having shit my way, and playing the game was giving me more and more of a rush. I couldn’t wait to see what the new year had in store for me. Or maybe I could.

  January

  In 2002, Tina and me brought the New Year in together like always. But instead of club and barhoppin’ in Philly, we went to Vegas to hook up with these white guys named Terry and Derrek from L.A. They were some rich-ass investors who Tina met at a Sixers game last season. Khalil got locked up for drug trafficking right around Christmas, shortly after we got back from Jamaica, so she was interested in broadening her horizons. She came to the realization that the type of guys she was used to dealing with would only end up where Khalil was, or dead, and she needed stability.

  Terry and Derrek were twins. They looked all right, but they were old and it showed. Derrek was for Tina. He was short, buff, and bald. I called him Mr. Clean behind his back. My dude Terry was similar to Derrek in height, but he was less buff and more flabby, and he was only bald in the middle. Both of them dressed very well, in Italian-made suits, expensive jewelry, and silk and cashmere shit, which compensated for what they lacked in the physical department.

  We met up with Terry and Derrek at the MGM Grand Hotel on the strip. They already had a room for us. It was a huge two-bedroom suite on the top floor. Our view was off the hook. We could see the whole strip and at night-it was a sight to see. So many bright lights, fancy cars, and people. Guys and girls filled the s
treets, walking, driving, or posted up on the strip. It was exciting. Every bone in my body anticipated action. Tina and me were turning so many heads, and if we were selfish and careless bitches we could have jumped in one of them Ferraris quick, right in front of Terry and Derrek. But that wasn’t our steez. And besides, Terry and Derrek gave us no reasons to. They were both filthy rich and had no problem peelin’ off. We were like their trophies, and they kept us polished and lookin’ good. We drank, partied, and fucked a lot, and we even did some shopping at the Venetian. It was fun as hell out there, but when the week was up I was ready to go home. I missed my house. That is, until I got there.

  The first thing I noticed when I walked through my front door was the blinking on my answering machine. I checked the caller ID first and saw that James had called me about a thousand times. I told all my dudes that I was going to Vegas with Tina for a few days, so I didn’t know why James blew up my phone. Besides, he was in Houston negotiating a contract with the Rockets. What would he be all pressed to get in touch with me for? I thought.

  Most of the messages were short. “Babe, it’s me, holla back,” “Babe, pick up the phone,” “Celess, where you at,” etc., etc., etc. But the last one was long and detailed.

  “Celess, what’s up with you? I heard some wild stuff about you. You need to call me as soon as possible, because if what I found out is true you’re goin’ to have some serious problems.”

  I called James back on his cell. He answered on the first ring.

  “Yo, what’s up?” he whined.

  “Hey, baby,” I said. “What’s up?”

  “You didn’t get my message?”

  “Yeah, what’s up, what hater told you somethin’?” I asked, trying to convince him that it was a lie before even knowing what the hell he was going to tell me.

  “Yo, I’m at an NBA party, right, and these broads come over and try to holla at me and this other bull. So the one broad had a fuckin’ Adam’s apple and shit, right? So the bull I was with cursed the broads out. Then he started tellin’ me about these two joons from Philly who be playin’ dudes the same way. They dress and live like women, but they really men.”

  I would have liked to have passed out. Fuck! I thought. I was already trying to work up a plan. But before I went jumping to conclusions, I waited for James to finish.

  “Then dude said yall names, Tina and Ce-fuckin’less. Yo, say it ain’t so, Celess,” James pleaded.

  “What?” I yelled. “A man? That is some insane shit, James. I can’t believe you’re bringing me this high drama!” I was trying to play it off. I didn’t know what else to do.

  “But yo right, I started thinking,” James said, “and we never fucked in the light. And you always make me hit it from the back. What? I be puttin’ it in ya ass? And yo, you ain’t never ask me to eat you out or nothin’.”

  “If I remember correctly, you told me you didn’t eat pussy!” I shot back at him.

  “Yeah, but I tell every joon that and it don’t keep them from asking me to make an exception. Just tell me what the fuck is goin’ on, please.”

  James sounded like he was going to cry. I was actually starting to feel bad. I never thought I would have to come clean to anybody before. I thought it would either come down to them finding out during sex and liking it so much that they wouldn’t care, or I would stop dealing with them before they could ever figure it out. Tina didn’t school me to this part of the game. I didn’t know whether to continue denying it or just apologize and beg for his forgiveness. I knew that I would not be able to get away with denying it because as soon as he came back to Philly he would be checking for a penis. So I decided to just tell him the truth.

  “Look, James, I’m sorry,” I started out, then I immediately started crying.

  “You bitch! You fuckin’ dirty bitch! How the fuck could you do this shit to me, Celess? Is ya fuckin’ name even Celess?”

  “James, I’m so sorry. I knew you wouldn’t have got with me if you knew, and I was feeling you,” I whined.

  “Bitch, is you crazy? You damn right I wouldn’t have got with you! You a fuckin’ man! I’m not fuckin’ gay! You’s a crazy bitch! You know what yo, don’t fuckin’ call me! If you see me anywhere, don’t fuckin’ say shit to me! If you even fuckin’ look my way I will fuckin’ hurt you! I swear to God!”

  Click.

  I held the phone to my ear even after James had hung up. I listened to the dial tone while I cried and felt sorry for myself. I knew I should not have done that to James and he was the one who deserved sympathy, but this made me realize that I would never sincerely get what I wanted. I would never be a woman, no matter how dressed up I got or how much makeup I wore or how many hormones I took.

  I needed to get out of the house. I needed a drink. I called Tina.

  “What? Well, who the fuck told him that? Who in the NBA found out about us?” Tina asked.

  We were in her black-on-black GS 400, a gift from her white friend Derrek, on our way to Main Street in Manayunk.

  “I don’t know. I didn’t ask him all that,” I said, still crying.

  “Girl, wipe your eyes. Don’t be crying over no man. Shit, James was the brokest of the three, anyway,” she said frankly.

  “That’s not the point, though, Tina,” I explained. “I really hurt him. He sounded like he was going to cry.”

  “Well, you know what, they do it to women all the time, play with their hearts. He’ll get over it.”

  “But what you gonna do about Khalil?”

  “What about Khalil?”

  “You know James is gonna tell him, if he didn’t already,” I explained.

  “Khalil is doin’ time. James ain’t gonna be in touch with him for a minute. Especially with James going to the NBA, him and Khalil will probably lose touch.”

  Tina had all the answers, but she didn’t understand. Yeah, she’d been dressing up since she was fourteen, but she never been in my or James’s situation before. She never even came close to a guy finding out about her. Hell, when I met her I thought she was a girl. It was ninth grade. We had a class together. She was dressed so fly. I admired her. I was still playing a straight role to a certain extent. I dressed like a regular guy. I acted like a regular guy. But I wasn’t a regular guy on the inside and Tina could sense that. When she told me she was a dude, I flipped out. I didn’t believe her. It came down to her showing me her dick. It wasn’t on some gay shit either, because I was not at all attracted to her. She was too pretty and looked too much like a girl. I wanted to do the same thing she was doing. I wanted to live my life as a girl. I figured it would be much easier on me messing with guys as a girl than as a guy. But now I didn’t know what to think. I felt fucked up.

  I got drunk as shit off of apple martinis. Tina dropped me off home at about eleven o’clock. I went right to sleep.

  Ding-dong. Ding-dong. Ding-dong. I jumped up out of my sleep. The clock said twelve-fifteen. I was fucked up. I managed to get out of bed and go see who was at my door. I could see through the peephole that it was Tariq. He was dressed casual in a leather jacket, a baseball cap, a white T-shirt, and some baggy jeans. Then I remembered he took off from work to spend the day with me. I didn’t open the door. I ran into the bathroom and tried to get myself together. I couldn’t let him see me like that. I was a mess. He kept ringing my bell. Then he started ringing my phone. I answered.

  “Hello,” I said, sounding sleepy.

  “Wake up, sleepyhead, I’m outside your house,” he said.

  “Oh, shit, Tariq, I forgot all about our plans,” I confessed.

  “Well, now that your memory is refreshed, can you come open the door?”

  “Yeah, hold up a second.”

  I put myself together somewhat and let Tariq in.

  “Who did you go out with last night?”

  “Tina got me drunk as shit.” I switched the blame.

  “I see,” he said.

  “Give me a minute to do something with myself and we can go out,” I
said.

  “Just get in the shower,” he said. “We can chill here, watch movies, and order in,” he suggested.

  That was a bet. I turned on the faucet so I could take a long bath. But I made sure to lock my bathroom door. Good thing too, because Tariq did try to come in. I did all of the important things in the bathroom, like tape up my thing and put on my bra and panties. I slipped into some J Lo sweats and some slippers. I brushed my hair back into a ponytail and bobby-pinned the weave onto it. I put on a little makeup and joined Tariq in the family room.

  Tariq had already made himself comfortable. He had taken his jacket and shoes off and was surfing through the channels. I felt a lot better after that bath. I just needed to get some food. We ordered Chinese and pigged out for the day. It was relaxing.

  When Tariq left at seven o’clock I began to feel bad all over again. I started feeling bad for James. Tariq and O too-I just kept thinking what would happen if they found out. I never used to worry about this, but since James found out, I realized that it was possible. As usual, I called Tina.

  “Tina, what you doin’?”

  “You mean who I’m doin’,” she joked.

  “No, I meant what like I said,” I joked back.

  “I’m working out,” she said.

  “How did we get into this, Tina?”

  Tina knew what I was getting at. “Why are you still trippin’ over dude?”

  “I don’t know. I’m nervous that they might all find out. And what if James come back to Philly trippin’ out on me?” I worried.

  “James isn’t the type. Plus he got a rep to think about too. You think he want people to find out that he fucked a man? He won’t say or do shit, trust. You just need to replace him and move on,” Tina demanded.

  She had a point. James was probably busy trying to get this whole thing out of his head.

  “You’re right,” I said.

  “Matter of fact, we’re going to Delaware tonight,” Tina said.