Authors: Rae
Simone looked in the mirror, fascinated by her appearance.
Jana gazed at Simone's reflection in the mirror, thinking about how young she looked, even though she wore a revealing dress and a dark-colored headdress. “You know what you need,” Jana said, pulling a makeup case out of her purse. “You need some of this.”
Simone frowned. “I don't know about all that.”
“Why not?” Jana asked.
“I don't know,” Simone said. “It might make me look funny.”
Jana laughed. “No, it won't. Makeup looks good on everybody.”
“I wouldn't know,” Simone said. “I've never used any.”
“You've never used makeup!” Jana exclaimed. “Are you serious?” Simone nodded.
“It'll look great on you,” Jana said. “We don't have to use anything heavy. Maybe a little foundation, some eyeshadow, mascara, some lipstick to bring out that mold on your lip.”
Simone looked at Jana doubtfully. “I don't know. I don't wanna be walking around here looking like a damn clown.”
Jana giggled and slid the chair from underneath the desk and sat it in front of the mirror. She then placed her hands on Simone's shoulders, motioning for her to sit down. “Trust me; you'll look gorgeous.”
Stefan and Paris sat in the back of Club Oz waiting for Jamal and Kenneth to come back with their drinks.
“I'm telling you, they've got some. When we met up with them this morning, that nigga, Kenneth, still had some stuck in his nostrils,” Paris said. “I swear to God.”
Stefan laughed. “Awright, we'll see.”
“But how?” Paris asked. “Ain't like they gonna offer it up.”
“Don't worry; I'll mention it,” Stefan said.
Simone walked over to the table and sat down. “Hey, y'all; what y'all been up to?”
“Well, look at you,” Stefan said.
“You like?” Simone asked. “Jana bought it for me and she did my makeup, too.”
“Yeah, you look exactly like a little drag queen Barbie doll,” Paris joked.
“Well, I'll take that as a compliment,” Simone said.
“That's how you better take it,” said a guy wearing a high-blonde wig and a yellow dress with fringes, eavesdropping on their conversation from a table nearby.
The three laughed and continued with their conversation.
“What y'all been doing?” Simone asked.
“Not too much,” Stefan answered. “Just getting to know the area and having a little fun; that's all.”
“Well, I hope y'all ain't having too much fun without stopping by the AIDS taskforce booth to pick up some condoms,” Simone said.
“Yeah, make sure you stop and pick up some dental dams,” Paris joked.
“Dental dams; why would I need dental dams?” Simone asked.
Stefan looked up and saw Jana heading to the table along with Jamal and Kenneth, and decided to put an end to their conversation. “Don't pay Paris ass no mind; he doesn't know what the hell he's talking about.”
Jana placed Simone's glass in front of her and sat down. “What are you three talking about?”
“Oh, nothing; just trying to educate Simone,” Paris said.
“If he was, he did a poor job of it, 'cause I still don't know what the hell he's talking about,” Simone said.
“Well, I'll tell you what,” Paris said. “I'll holla at you in a couple of days and see if you're still singing the same tune.”
“Shhh...the impersonations are about to start,” Jana said.
Simone looked at Paris and rolled her eyes and Paris sipped his drink, giggling to himself about how naïve Simone was not to consider that Jana might have more than a friendly interest in her.
Stefan rested his head in his hand while he sipped his fifth drink. He noticed Simone and Paris seemed equally as bored. “What else is up for tonight?”
“Yeah, 'cause this shit is not what's up,” Paris said.
“Don't tell me y'all are bored already,” Kenneth said.
“Out our damn minds,” Simone answered.
“No problem; we could do something else,” Jana said.
“They have nude swimming at the country club,” Jamal said. “Y'all want to see what's up with that?”
“Naw, I'll pass,” Simone answered.
“I'll tell you one thing; my nose is getting a little wet,” Stefan said. “I sure would love to get my hands on some powder.”
Jamal's eyes widened. “Excuse me?”
Stefan smiled. “You know yay, white.”
“I prefer the term nose candy myself,” Paris added.
Simone held her head down, embarrassed that Stefan had shared their recreational activity with their new acquaintances. She was sure they didn't share their interests and would frown down on them for engaging in it.
Jamal looked at Kenneth and Jana, and then grinned. “No problem; we can go back to my room and take care of that.”
“You want to go, Simone?” Jana asked.
Simone nodded her head.
Paris gulped down the remainder of his drink and then led the way out of the club. “Who would have thought we had so much in common?”
“Damn, I haven't sniffed anything this good in a couple years,” Stefan said.
Simone sat back on the sofa across from Stefan, rubbing her fingers across her nose. “You ain't lying.”
Stefan stretched out across Jamal's lap, moving his legs back and forth nervously. “I remember the first time I used this shit. I was thirteen, my grandma was in the middle of a card game and asked me to run upstairs and get her pocketbook. When I went in the kitchen, I saw the empty sandwich bag on the table beside her; it still had a little residue on it so I set her pocketbook in front of it and slid it off the table. As soon as I got out the kitchen, I ran upstairs to the bathroom, locked the door, and sat there on the toilet, sniffing the residue off the bag.”
Jamal smirked. “Damn, you started early.”
Stefan slapped him on his arm playfully. “When did you start?”
“To tell you the truth, I didn't really care for the shit 'til about two years ago,” Jamal said. “It was my hustle and that was about it, until I met up with this big-time cat I was copping from. It seemed like every time I saw the nigga, he was sniffing the shit. One day, I went to holler at him and he was sitting at the table with a gang of other niggas, sniffing lines. I tried to conduct my business as fast as possible and be out but, for some reason, this nigga was on some friendly shit. He asked me to come sniff a few lines with him and his people. I ain't want to be like naw, 'cause I ain't want to offend the man, so I sat down at the table with them and snorted some of that shit. Man, I swear, when that shit went up my nose, I thought my head was about to explode.”
“Amateur,” Paris joked.
Kenneth laughed. “Oh shit.”
Jamal giggled. “Yeah, that's what that nigga called me; an amateur. He thought it was the funniest shit.”
“Did you still cop from him after that?” Stefan asked.
“Yeah, we tight as a bitch now,” Jamal said. “Matter of fact, there the nigga go right there,” Jamal said, pointing at Kenneth.
Jana rested her hand on Simone's thigh. “What about you, Simone? How did you start using?”
Simone pointed to Stefan. “That's who turned me on to it. He turned Paris on, too,” Simone said, paying no attention to the hand Jana had rested on her thigh.
“He sure did,” Paris said. “He called me over there one night so I could sit on the porch with him and sniffed residue off one of them damn sandwich bags.”
Jana reached under the cushion on the sofa and pulled out a blunt stuffed with dro, grabbed a lighter from her purse, lit it, and then took a few puffs. “I tell you one thing though; I still love this shit right here.”
Jana passed the blunt to Simone. Simone took a few deep pulls and handed it to Stefan.
Paris looked over at Simone, whose eyes were red and narrow. “Damn, Simone, that shit getting to you already. That must be some good shit; hurry up and pass it, Stefan.”
Stefan passed the blunt to Jamal and he took a few puffs and handed it to Paris. Paris took a few puffs and then he and Kenneth took turns blowing each other guns. The blunt made its way back to Jana and she took a few puffs and leaned over and blew Simone a gun. Simone could feel her body become numb with every passing moment and before she knew it, she drifted off to sleep.
Simone didn't make it back to her hotel room until five o'clock that morning. She slept late into the evening.
She was awakened by a knock on the door. She couldn't help but think about how awful she felt. Her lips were parched and her stomach seemed to be trying to reject something she'd consumed the night before. Her back was hot and itchy where the sun had burned her through her dress. She reached for her cell phone to check the time.
Damn, it's seven o'clock
, she thought. She wondered had Stefan and Paris overslept, too. Simone grabbed her robe from the foot of the bed, slid it on, and made her way to the door. “Who is it?”
“It's Jana.”
Simone cracked the door open.
Jana greeted her with a smile. “Can I come in?”
Simone nodded. “Sure.”
Jana took a seat on the bed and Simone stretched out on the bed beside of her.
Jana looked Simone over, taking notice of the dark area underneath her eyes. “Are you feeling alright?”
Simone shook her head. “I feel like I'm about to pass out.”
“You think you might have a hangover from yesterday?”
“Naw, I think it's all that time I spent outside in the heat,” Simone answered. “Plus, I've only eaten once since I've been here.”
“Damn, I wish you would've said something,” Jana said. “We could've grabbed something to eat.”
“We still can.”
“There's a Ruth's Chris on Fulton Street; we can go there,” Jana said.
“That's what's up.” Simone reached for her suitcase and grabbed something to wear. “Just give me some time to shower and get dressed and we can be on our way.”