Pretty Girls in the Vip (9781617730283) (7 page)

“I'm looking for her lighter,” he said, still digging around.

Her lighter was right on the nightstand. I sat up and then he was digging around in her jeans pockets.

“What are you looking for?” I asked him as I got up from the bed, walked across the room, and looked out the window. I saw Marquis still sitting outside in the car even though he said he was supposed to be on a condom run. I sensed something wasn't going right. I nudged Courtney awake, and she snatched her jeans from Quan and asked what the hell he was doing.

“Yo, Courtney, where the money at?” Quan said in a gruff voice.

“Huh, what money?” she asked.

“You know what money. Your pussy wasn't worth no eight hundred. Y'all should have been doing tricks and bumping pussies with each other and giving us a show for that kind of money. You didn't do nothing special, so give me our money back.”

“Shit, you lost your mind. We not giving you shit. Fuck out of here,” I said.

“Look, we ain't giving you any money back. You got what you wanted and we got paid. That's what it is,” Courtney shouted at Quan.

“Naw, that ain't what it is,” he said as he picked up Courtney's shoes. She leaped toward him. He pushed her and I was ready to hit him when he pulled out a black .45 automatic gun. He pointed the gun at us and we both fell back. I stood still as he took our hard-earned money out of Courtney's shoe. He backed up out of the room holding a gun in one hand and our money in the other. I didn't think it could get any worse, but it did. After he shut the door, Courtney ran over to the door and opened it. She screamed, “You little pencil-ass dick bitch. I was faking it when I was yelling. I couldn't even feel that shit.”

What Courtney was saying must have had some truth behind it because Quan came back and banged on the door. We were laughing until he shot through the motel window twice. We both ducked down and waited until we heard their car screech off. There were so many names I could have called dumb-ass Courtney, but I didn't. I was too drained and too angry to light into her ass.

“We have to get out of here before the cops get here.”

“I know,” I said as I hurried to grab my belongings and we ran out of the motel.

 

We were several blocks away and out of breath before we stopped running.

“Oh. My. God. He is crazy. I can't believe he shot at us and left us all the way out here,” Courtney gasped.

“Yeah, this is fucked up. I can't believe he shot at us, either. We have to find out what bus runs around here.”

My insides were on fire. That dry-ass condom and his crooked dick were not a good combination. I was fuming mad. Now that my high was blown, I could smell Marquis's stank blunt breath all over my skin.

“I wish we could call the cops.”

“And say what, Courtney? You sound so stupid right now.”

“Yo, I had no idea he was crazy like that,” Courtney said.

I looked over at Courtney's face and knew that I was so tired of doing this bum bitch shit. Getting robbed and shot at by the dudes we were just fucking with. Sometimes Courtney was my best friend, my sister, and other times she was the dumbest bitch I knew. I didn't want to yell at her, but I couldn't hold back.

“Courtney, this was some real stupid shit.”

“Okay, so you act like I knew this was going to happen.”

“I'm not saying that.” I knew Courtney was about to flip it back on me. She fucked up, but somehow it was about to be my fault.

It always started with, “Bitch, you ain't better than me.” She was going to say that I was nothing because I let my daughter go to live with her father's family. If I was a real woman I would hold it down like she was doing with her daughter. She always brings up unrelated shit when we arguing.

Aunt Rhonda says we are water and oil and we will never be able to get along fully. Sometimes I think she is jealous that Ayana never met her grandparents and my baby lives with hers.

“Don't try to act like this is my fault, Shanice. As soon as you saw him near my bag you should have said something.”

“I did. I woke you up.”

“Well, you should have been more on point. All I know is, you don't have to act like you better than anyone. You not better than me or smarter than me. Yeah, it's my bad I fucked up, but you did, too.”

I could argue with Courtney, but she would never get it, and all I cared about was getting home into the shower and into my bed.

“H
appy birthday, Aunt Kiya,” my nephews yelled as they both ran downstairs with a white notebook paper homemade card sealed with tape.

“Open it. Open it,” they both yelled.

“Okay.” I sat at the kitchen table and opened the card and about three dollars in dimes, nickels, and pennies fell out. On the front of the card there was a drawing of me and them and a greeting that was written in sloppy cursive handwriting that read H
APPY
B
IRTHDAY
W
ORLD'S
B
EST
A
UNT
.

“This is so nice. Wow, I'm so lucky.”

“We gave you that money for your birthday to buy a new computer,” Miles said.

“That's so sweet. Give me a hug,” I said as I extended my arms out wide enough to hug them both.

My sister, Lisa, interrupted our lovefest and told the boys to grab their jackets and book bags and head out to the car, so they wouldn't be late for school.

“So now that you're legal, what are you doing today?” she asked as she put her jacket on.

“Nothing special. Just going to the library to type my paper and then to class and that's it.”

“Well, maybe we can go to Applebee's or something tonight. Hopefully my overtime is on this check.”

“Yeah, I have to work, so don't worry about it.”

“Well, when you get off, let's do something.”

“Okay.”

 

It was my birthday, but it didn't feel like it. I hadn't really celebrated my birthday since before my mom killed herself when I was twelve. A lot of things just didn't matter anymore once she was gone.

 

I grabbed a birthday vanilla frosted donut with sprinkles from Dunkin' Donuts and a large orange juice. That was my birthday breakfast before I went and typed up my English paper. My phone was at the bottom of my bag and it started ringing.

Once I finally grabbed it, I was surprised to see Jabril's name on the screen. “Hey, Jabril,” I said as I walked out of Dunkin' Donuts.

“I just wanted to call you and say happy birthday. What are you doing?”

“About to go to the library so I can type my paper. My computer is broke.”

“What's wrong with it?”

“My nephews did something to it. I think it has a virus or something.”

“Wow, that's messed up.”

“Yeah, it is, but it's done and I know they didn't mean to do it. Well, I'm having breakfast and then going to class. I'll call you later.”

“You are always busy. Every time I talk to you, you're in school or getting ready for school, or studying for a test.”

“I have classes Monday, Wednesday, and Friday all day. So call me on Tuesday or Thursday.”

“What are you doing this weekend?”

“I don't know. My sister and nephews are going to take me out maybe later on. Other than that, I'm not doing anything.”

“You should come and visit me.”

“I can't until like spring break. Yeah, spring break I will definitely come.”

“Do you promise, Zakiya?”

“Yes, I promise.” I said anything to get him off the phone. I think I knew if I saw him it wouldn't be as easy to resist and say no to him.

“All right, well, I'll talk to you. Enjoy your birthday.”

“I will. Thanks, Jabril.”

 

I made it to class right as my instructor was writing problems on the board, which no one was copying. I must have been the only person in class who actually was there to learn something. Everyone else was there just taking up space. That's what I hated about community college. Some of the students were people who were in search of higher learning and wanted a cheap quality education like me, but then we were forced to learn with the thirteenth graders whose parents gave them ultimatums: go to college or get out.

One girl was sitting in class texting and another guy had headphones up all loud with his hood on his head.
Why bother even coming to class?
I thought.

The professor began explaining our lesson and I was so lost. I looked in the book and back at the board, but it wasn't making any sense.

I raised my hand and asked him to explain it again. Usually, things came easy to me. But for this math, I needed a tutor to help me understand. He ran back through the problem fast and I still didn't catch up. So when he turned and asked if I got it, I just responded with a head nod.

After class I tried to wait in line to talk to Professor Langer. I didn't want to be late for work, but I had just sat for an hour and was still clueless. By the time I reached his desk, he was packing his briefcase.

“Hi, I was wondering how I can get extra help in this class.”

“They have tutoring in the library and I have office hours.”

“Do you have any time today?”

“No, I'm sorry, I have another class. I can't discuss this with you right now. You can e-mail me.”

I thanked him and gathered my belongings. Exiting the classroom, I heard a little commotion. I walked around the growing crowd until I saw Jabril standing there with three guys in tuxedos. Each man was holding a dozen red and white roses. Before I could react to Jabril or seeing the flowers, the men handed me the flowers and began to sing Stevie Wonder's soulful, a cappella version of “Happy Birthday.” I stood still with my hand over my mouth in shock. Jabril came over and hugged me tightly as the men continued to sing in harmony. Tears dripped down my face. I hid my face in Jabril's side as he comforted me.

“What are you doing here?” I mumbled.

“I had to come and say happy birthday to my favorite girl.” I couldn't believe Jabril was right beside me. I hung on to him, so happy, but also mortified that he had made this big spectacle at my school. I couldn't believe that he'd shown up on the day I decided to rock a hoodie and jeans to school. Students were snapping pictures on their phones and recording us. Then those who weren't taking pictures were asking Jabril for his autograph or to take a picture with him. I guess it wasn't every day a famous basketball player came on campus. A lot of guys automatically recognized him. It was hard to miss his six-five frame, chestnut eyes, and beautiful smile. He was wearing a fitted black shirt and jeans.

“Zakiya, I couldn't wait until spring break to see you. You know I love you.”

“I love you, too, Jabril.” I couldn't keep the tears back and could barely speak. Jabril ordered me to stop crying and pulled me to his side once more, and we walked me out to an awaiting black Cadillac Escalade. The driver opened the door and helped me in the car. People had followed us to the car and were waving as we drove away. I wiped away more tears and then punched Jabril softly in his side.

“Why you come up to my school embarrassing me?”

“I knew I was going to be in the city, so I had to see you. I wanted to take you out and surprise you.”

“But I have to go to work.”

“I'm not taking no for an answer. You're calling out of work and I'm taking you to dinner.”

“This is all nice, Jabril, but I can't call out from work.”

“So I came all this way, and you can't tell the people at your job that you are sick?”

I looked over on the other side of Jabril and saw more flowers and gift bags.

“Okay, I'll call out, but you are crazy. What if you hadn't been able to find me?”

“No, I knew where you were, in class. Why do you think I called you this morning? But then you were taking so long coming out, I was like, damn, I hope she came to school today.”

“So how long are you in town?”

“Until the weekend, then I'm going back.”

Jabril had done all of this for me, I had to be thankful. I didn't have a choice. I had to call out from work. I asked him to be quiet as I dialed my job. I never called out, so I didn't expect it to be a problem. Someone from the customer service desk answered and I asked to speak to Lenora. Lenora answered and I said, “Lenora, it's Zakiya. I'm not feeling well so I'm not coming in.”

“Okay, I hope you feel better, but you know I had three other call outs today. But it is not your fault. Feel better. I have to call around to see who I can get to come in.”

I made sure she was off the phone before I said, “Okay, are you happy? I'm not going to work.”

“Yes, I am. Thank you for allowing me to kidnap you.” He kissed me, his tongue tickling mine, going back and forth. I hugged him so tightly and kissed him back. Now that he was in front of me I couldn't act like I didn't miss and want him, too.

“Well, I need you to open your first gift.” He handed me a box with a watch, then there was this huge brown, leather monogrammed Louis Vuitton bag and inside of that bag was a pair of diamond earrings in the shape of a butterfly, a matching bracelet, a watch, and an iPad.

“Thank you, Jabril,” I squealed, looking over all my gifts.

“You're welcome, Kiya. My boy Lloyd told me I should get you a pair of red-bottom shoes, but I couldn't remember your size and I forgot to ask you.”

“Jabril, I'm happy with all this. I don't need anything else. I wanted an iPad. Thank you so very much. All of this is so nice.” I placed the watch on one arm and the butterfly bracelet on the other.

“And that's not all. I have one more surprise for you.” He pulled out another box. “And remember this? You left this.”

“My chain.”

“Now, you have the earrings and bracelet to match it now. And I know I said that was it, but you said you needed something else when I talked to you this morning.”

“What?” I asked as I watched Jabril pull a slim box from under the seat and placed it on my lap.

“A new MacBook Pro!” I shouted. “I needed a computer so bad.”

“I know. That's why I got it.”

Out of all the gifts he'd just presented me with, the computer was the one that made me cry. I didn't know how I was going to buy another one. “Thanks, Jabril. Really, thanks.”

I reached out and hugged him again and then asked him where we were going. Through all the present opening I noticed the driver was crossing over the Benjamin Franklin Bridge into New Jersey.

“I'm kidnapping you.”

“Kidnapping me to where?”

“Somewhere you said you wanted to go when you finally turned twenty-one.”

“Somewhere like where? Do you know how long ago that was? My memory is not that good . . . tell me!”

“Atlantic City, because you said you wanted to walk the casino floor and when they asked you for ID you were going to flash it in their face.”

“I did say that. You remember everything, Jabril.”

 

Jabril had a suite waiting for us at The Water Club by Borgata. We spent the day talking and getting reacquainted in the spacious room and massive bed.

“I missed you,” Jabril said, kissing my forehead.

“I missed you, too.” I felt all kinds of emotions overtake me.

“So, what are we doing now?”

“We are going to dinner, but first we have to get you a dress.” He called down to the concierge desk and this man came upstairs and asked my shoe and dress size and returned with five dresses for me to pick from and three pairs of shoes.

I showered and changed into everything and I felt like a princess—or Cinderella. I had all these new sparkling jewels on, a new dress, new shoes, and my prince, Jabril.

 

We left our hotel room and walked to the restaurant on the same floor. The restaurant was set by a pool and it was intimate. There were only a few other tables, and they were empty. It was like we had our own private restaurant.

“You know, they only let their high rollers up here. I heard you have to gamble at least five hundred thousand to be invited to this floor. I asked around and everyone said this is the best place in Atlantic City.”

“It's beautiful,” I said, looking around and admiring the scenery.

 

Dinner was a lavish spread of filet mignon, lobster tails, and sautéed spinach. Our servers attended to our every need. Once I took my glass away from my mouth, they were there to refill it or pick up my napkin when it fell off the table.

“So, how has your mom been?” I asked. Jabril's mother, Claudette, and I had become quite close when he and I were together, but I cut her off when I cut him off.

“She is good, going back and forth from here and Oklahoma. Always asking about you.”

“Aw, really? Tell her I said hello. How about your uncle?”