Authors: Ni-Ni Simone
“Oh, he was in the room too?” Khya said. “No wonder you didn’t want him looking like Gary Coleman.”
“All I know,” Courtney carried on, “is that once I put the glass to the wall, it was on. Chile, I felt just like a church lady in heat.” He fanned his face. “So anywho now that I know you, Seven, and very well I may add”—he looked at Shae and Khya—“why don’t you introduce me to your friends?”
I looked at Courtney and rolled my eyes so hard it’s a wonder bullets didn’t shoot from them.
“Dead!” Courtney screamed. “Courtney’s dead.”
Hands down, this was some bull. How did he get all in my business and I don’t even know him? And I really wasn’t ready to deal with Shae’s judgment and Khya thinking that I just out and out accepted anything—because that is far from the truth. But what was true was me wanting to kick Courtney’s behind.
“Don’t be mad, Seven,” Courtney said. “I admire you.”
“And we admire you, Courtney,” Shae said, “for telling us the truth. So anywho, my name is Shae.”
“And I’m Khya, wassup, round? I think between my status alerts and your glass to the wall, we gon’ make one hellva team. And I got something that’s gon’ fix your roommate and his lil nasty problem.”
“Do share, honey, do share.” Courtney popped his gum. “Is it a bullet made out of Imodium AD? ‘Cause he can tear up a bathroom too, chile! Funk miser. Trust, I don’t know where they got this jungle bunny from, but he got to go. And don’t you know he’s from Jersey. A resident of my home town, Newark,” Courtney said in disbelief. “He’s about four feet tall and he calls himself, Lil Bootsy—”
“You’re from Newark?” I frowned.
I sure hope I don’t run into this clown when I go home…. Wait a minute…. What did he say his roommate’s name was?
“Who’s your roommate again?”
“Percy Jenkins, but he calls himself Lil Bootsy.”
Oh … my … God … Jesus must be pissed off with me—
Before I could finish my thought, Courtney screamed, “There go the lil freak right there!”
I turned to the right and in my sight was a nasty ghetto throwback of a mess: Percy a.k.a. Lil Bootsy, b.k.a. Miss Minnie’s son and Cousin Shake’s stepson, the one who always dressed in a sky blue velvet suit and a cape, and thought being called a pimp was the world’s greatest compliment.
Now I know for sure I have arrived in hell with gasoline panties on.
Percy walked over to our table and said, “ ‘Sup, Shae? ‘Sup, my beautiful plus-size queen.” He looked at Khya and growled. “Your prince has arrived, and don’t let my
size fool ya, ‘cause I like my women big and juicy. Ain’t that right, Seven?”
“I don’t know what you like.”
“You need to stop frontin',” Lil Bootsy snorted. “ ‘Cause you know if I wasn’t your cousin I woulda tapped that by now.”
I completely ignored him.
“Seven, you don’t see me talkin’ to you?”
“Don’t worry,” Courtney said, “if they don’t see you they will smell you in about five seconds. Five … four …”
“What are you doing here?” I snapped in disbelief, I swear I wanted to fight him. Real talk—I couldn’t stand this dude.
“ ‘Cause this college was cheaper. They accepted me in the EEO program, and my stepdaddy, Cousin Shake, sent me to look after you … so here I am.” He stretched his arms wide and smiled, showing his top grill of pink and yellow gold teeth. He snorted at Khya and said, “You like that, don’t you, girl? I see you watching me. Look at it good now.” He opened his mouth. “Spells, you need to get with me.”
“Listen, lil avatar,” Courtney said, “she clearly doesn’t want to be bothered with you.”
“You don’t know what she wants!”
“Well, I do,” Khya interjected, “and, Seven, I want you to get your lil cousin.”
“I’m older than her,” Percy said.
“Well,” Khya continued, “get your lil big cousin.”
I quickly spat, “He is not really my cousin.”
“Oh, you just gon’ disown me right in my face?”
“She probably don’t see you.” Courtney popped his gum. “She probably still looking for you, ‘cause you so damn little that I’m sure all she hears is a voice.”
“Oh, I see I’ma have to drop a silent killer for you.” Percy snorted.
Courtney slapped his hand over his mouth and said, “Oh no!”
“What the heck are you talking about?” I frowned. “Silent killer?”
Before he could answer the question I thought for sure I was about to pass out. “What is that smell?” I looked down at Percy, and before I could think of how I was going to lay him to rest, the crowd in the caf started moving swiftly out the door.
Oh … hell … no …
As I went to clobber this weed for chasing everybody out of here, someone yelled, “Parade, y’all!”
“Parade!” Khya jumped out of her seat. “Oh hell yes, welcome home to me, Khya Baptiste! Welcome home, bey-be! Second line in the hiz’zouse!” She looked at me and Shae in excitement. “Listen, when we get back to the room, Seven, then we’ll discuss how you got lil nasty creatures coming out the woodwork, neighbors all up in ya business, and of course we’ll save the lecture of how you don’t have to accept every apology that homeboy brings, but until we get there, we need to get this parade poppin', now come on!”
“Parade?” Percy said. “Let me go get my tambourine. Later.” And he ran out.
Parade? Do I look as if I care about a parade when someone has taken a bullet and shot my life away?
“I’m not going. You go ahead.”
“You trippin',” Khya said. “We all need to be on the second line groovin'!”
“Don’t worry about her,” Courtney said to Khya. “She’s just a lil upset with me right now. But she’ll get over it.
Now, I’ll go with you, I’m all for getting something poppin'. The only things I need to know are: if this second line thing is gon’ sweat my hair out and what exactly is it?”
“Look,” Khya said, “all you need to know is that cuties are everywhere! Now come on!”
“Got to go!” Courtney stood up.
“Why is there a parade?” Shae asked.
“ ‘Cause it’s hot outside,” Khya said. “Hell, ‘cause it’s Monday and the breeze is blowin'. I don’t know. This is N’awlins—we don’t need a reason to party! Now come on, before they move off this street and we have to run behind them to catch up!”
“We’re coming,” Shae said to Khya and Courtney. “You two go ahead. We’ll catch up to you.”
I knew as soon as they disappeared from sight that Shae was going to start lecturing me, so I simply turned to her and said, “Josiah showing up at the door didn’t even go down the way Courtney described it.”
“You know, Seven, whatever you do with Josiah is on you. If you’re cool with what went down last night, then who am I?”
“Shae, I’m trying to tell you that it wasn’t as deep as Courtney tried to make it seem. I mean, come on, you can look at him and tell he’s extra.”
“Oh, he’s extra?” she said, nodding her head. “Okay.”
“Look, I’ma big girl and I told Josiah that if he wanted to do other things—see other girls—then I was out.”
“Why does it have to be on his terms? You know what?” She sighed. “You’re right, you’re a big girl, so I guess we’ll find out what big girls do.”
“Would you two come on?!” Khya rushed back into the caf and over to the table.
“I thought you were gone already and in the parade?” I said, surprised.
“Looka here, round,” Khya said, placing one hand on her hip. “We in this together. Ain’t no, you go have a good time, while I sit back and figure out life. Nah, it don’t even go down like that. We’re roommates, we fixin’ to be friends for life, so we gon’ be ‘bout-it, ‘bout-it together. I don’t care that you let Josiah in the room—'cause the truth is I’da let my boo in the room too. Ya heardz me? All I care about is him treating you right,'cause if he ain’t—”
“Then Courtney will be all up in dat azz!” Courtney yelled from the door. “Now come on! Fa’ real, ‘cause it’s so many cuties out here my mama might not never see me again. Geezus!”
I looked at my friends—even Courtney, who I had a feeling would be forcing his friendship on me—and pushed my lips into a smile. “A’ight, come on!”
Don’t ever … wanna deal with this again
So … you better tell her …
—T
EEDRA
M
OSES
, “Y
OU
B
ETTER
T
ELL
H
ER”
T
he beaming sun provided a spotlight for everyone who grooved down the center of the street. The campus was huge, and sat in the center of the hood. Only one side of the campus was gated, and the other side, where the parade jumped off, was smack-dab in the middle of the French Quarter—brightly painted row houses, jazz clubs with painted neon signs that hung above the doors and read COME AS YOU ARE.
People were everywhere: some bouncing and doing African-inspired dances on the sidewalks. There were dancing crowds on just about every other galley; but most people were either in front of or behind us, dancing, playing instruments, singing, chanting, and partying down the center of the street from one block to the next.
I couldn’t help but drop off my self-doubt and sulking at the caf’s exit, because there was no way, in an atmosphere like this, that I could feel anything more than joy, wonder, and excitement.
Like for real, the Big Easy amazed me. Now, don’t get it twisted, I loved my city and would be a Brick City honey for life, but there was no way I could deny the beauty of this southern hood.
Every other parade I’d been to, I was a spectator, watching the club, group, or organization fly their flags, maybe play a few horns, and wave at the people as they walked down the street, but this was a straight-up party. We were dead in the mix and it was so many tenders I felt like I was going boy shopping. And these tenders weren’t just standing around. These tenders were blowing horns, playing the drums, banging tambourines, singing, and chanting as practically everyone grooved down the street.
I whispered to Khya, while I moved my shoulders and feet to a natural rhythm, “What am I supposed to do?”
“Just what you’re doing.” She twirled beneath a lavender parasol that someone had just given to her. “And just remember,” she screamed over the music, “to let yourself go!”
I took her advice and danced like crazy.
“When you’re out here”—Khya grooved—“dancing in the street, on second line, nothing else exists—”
Except Josiah.
I stood frozen as I spotted Josiah a few feet in front of me, entranced in a conversation with the girl I saw him kicking it with last night at Big Country’s party.
Instantly, my heart sank. A tailspin of emotions crashed through my veins, causing me to feel a rush of panic, confusion, and uncertainty all at once. I didn’t know whether to play it cool or to lose it.
But, I had to stay calm … but, for-real, for-real, I desperately wanted to flip out more than anything … but I couldn’t.
Right?
I mean, like, flip out about what, though? Josiah’s obvious lie to me? A strange feeling? Me not liking this chick because she’s standing too close to my man? Huh? Does any of that make any sense? And I don’t want to play myself by being the insane girlfriend who spazzed every time her boyfriend had a conversation with a female. But he lied to me.
You know what, I’m not about to sweat him. I’m good. I’ma act like I don’t even see them, fall back, and peep the situation.
I stood silently in my spot—as Khya grooved and moved with the crowd—and waited for what felt like forever, but in reality was about ten seconds, and then I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to say something….
I started walking toward Josiah so fast that I’m not certain how it all went down, but somehow I ended up on the ground and a dude dressed in a glittering green suit was doing his best not to trip over me. And just when I thought I’d left being clumsy in high school….
“You all right?” The guy managed to catch his balance. He extended his hand and helped me up.
“Thanks,” I said as he walked away. I dusted myself off and looked back over to where Josiah had been standing only to see that he was gone, yet the chick was still standing there like she was homeless. I started to position my hands like guns, point them toward her, and pull the triggers … but I didn’t. Instead, I felt a pair of unexpected arms wrap around my waist and a whisper in my ear. “Why didn’t you tell me you were going to be here?”
It was Josiah. I closed my eyes, took in the seduction of his cologne, and then quickly broke the spell. I stepped
out of his embrace, turned to face him, and said, “That’s funny”—I batted my eyes—“especially since you told me you had practice, so maybe I should be asking you, why didn’t you tell me you would be here?”
“Practice was cancelled,” he said a little too quickly.
I stood silent and nothing would fall from my lips. I wondered when he started lying to me. Did it happen slowly or all at once? “Okay, Josiah.” I tried like hell not to sigh, but I couldn’t control it.
“What?” he said with a slight attitude. “You don’t believe me?”
No, not at all.
“Josiah, I’m not trying to argue with you. If you say practice was cancelled then it was cancelled—”
Before I could go on, some guy stepped slightly in front of Josiah and said, “Excuse me, bruh.” He looked me over twice, stopped at my breasts for a moment, and I guess when he decided he’d had enough of that view he looked in my face and said, “I’m Devin, wassup, ma?”
What?
I looked around because I knew for certain I had to be mistaken. Was he … ummm … trying to get with me, while my boyfriend was standing here? I mean, he was cute—six-foot-three, milk-chocolate skin, and he clearly had the potential for me to find out his name and hook him up with one of my homegirls. But him trying to get with me and doing it in Josiah’s face was a whole other ball game.
I guess when I didn’t answer he figured he needed to greet me again, so he did: “Wassup?”
“Friday night at seven, Red Fish Grill in the Quarter. Matter of fact, we can get this romance poppin’ and head over there right now.”
I didn’t even have to turn around to know that was
Khya. Where there was a cute boy, Khya, her tight clothes, and her cleavage were always somewhere around. “I’m Khya.” She smiled at Mr. Bold, whose eyes molested her breasts and then reached her face.
“A’ight, that’s wassup,” he said and then returned his attention back to me. “That sounds like a nice lil spot she mentioned, we can head on over there now.”
“All right,” Khya answered. “Give me a few minutes to get my purse.”
“Khya,” I said sternly, as I glanced at the thumping vein about to jump out of Josiah’s neck. I turned to ole boy and said, “Look … what’s your name again?”
“Devin,” Khya interjected. “Devin ‘Air Bender’ Singleton. 2009 Graduate of Carter G. Woodson High School in Baton Rouge, one of the top basketball players with a high probability of getting drafted. And they call him Air Bender, because when he jumps he bends the air to let him through.” She made a motion with her hand as if she were shooting a basketball and said, “Swoosh. Now, Seven, let’s go so we can get our future crackin’ with the up-and-coming LeBron James.”
I didn’t even have to look at Josiah again to know smoke was coming from his nose and ears. Can you say gettin’ what his hand called for?
If I was shiesty I would take homeboy’s number while standing right here … but nah, as tempting as it was I’ll fly above. “Screech!” I held my hand up. “Bring it back, Khya. Bring it back.”
“Seriously,” Josiah said, finally speaking up, as if the cat had stolen his tongue and just returned it. “She has a boyfriend.”
Devin gave me a one-sided grin and said, “What he doesn’t know isn’t my concern.”
“Yo fa’real dawg, chill,” Josiah said to Devin, as more of a warning than a statement. “Fall back, this is my girl.”
Josiah wrapped his arms around my waist, and pulled my back to his chest. “This is Seven.” Immediately my eyes wandered over to where homegirl was watching us from afar. I hated that I couldn’t get a good read on whether she cared or not.
“Oh, damn, you’re Seven?” Devin gave me the updown. “My fault, my dude.” He gave Josiah a pound. “You should’ve introduced me.” He looked me dead in the eyes. “I keep telling my roommate to stop being rude. You wanna trade him in for a darker version who scores more points?”
“Well, you might be a lil darker,” Khya said, “which happens to turn me on—but you don’t score more points. Matter of fact your nickname changes when you get to the foul line; and it becomes Lil Whack. Just sayin'.”
Devin smirked as he looked at Khya. “Your mouth is ridiculous.”
Khya’s face lit up like Christmas. “Don’t worry ‘cause when you realize that I’m the woman for you, you gon’ love all this mouth. Now—” She walked over to him with her BlackBerry in her hand, snapped a quick picture, and said, “I need about five minutes before we leave, because I need to go and get my spare phone battery, update my status, and load this picture on the Internet.”
“You might wanna ask my permission,” Devin said.
“Permission?” Khya frowned. “Who do you know gets permission to put somebody on the Internet? Boy, please.”
Devin laughed in disbelief and as he and Khya became involved in their own conversation, Josiah turned me around toward him and pressed his forehead against mine. “I promise you I was about to leave here and come check you.”
“Okay.” I arched my brow.
“Seven,” he whispered, “I’m not feeling this new attitude.”
I swallowed. “Me either.”
“So whatchu saying?”
“Nothing. I’m not saying anything.” I graced his lips with a kiss, desperately wanting to change the subject. “Now, since your groupie doesn’t seem to be leaving”—I pointed to the girl—“do you want to walk over there and introduce me?”
“Behave.” Josiah frowned. “I told you that was nothing.”
“Then you better tell Ms. Nothing that I’ve been here for two days and already I’m sick of looking at her.”
I think my jealousy turned Josiah on because his face lit up. “Believe me, she knows who my girl is.”
“There y’all are.” Courtney fanned his face as he walked over to us. “I was looking for you.” He tapped me on the shoulder.
All I could do was shake my head. I swear I don’t think I’ll ever be able to shake this dude.
“ ‘Cause the good Lawd knows,” Courtney carried on, “I couldn’t take another moment of Shae and Big Country.” Courtney looked at Josiah and said to me, “What have I done for you to be so rude to me?” As he spoke his boa moved with the wind.
I swear I was so over this dude. “O … M … G … what the heck are you talking about?”
“Can I at least get a proper introduction?” Courtney insisted. “ ‘Cause watching him beg at the door last night doesn’t count as one.”
“Beg at the door?” Devin laughed. “A’ight, I think that’s my cue to leave. Later, Josiah, I’ll catch up with you at the party tonight. Bye, Seven.” He smiled. “Bye, Khya.”
“Bye, Hubby—I mean Air Bender—I mean Devin, honey,” Khya said as she blew Devin kisses.
Devin walked away and I turned to Josiah. “Party?” I frowned. “What party? I thought you were supposed to spend some time with me.”
“Pause.” Courtney held his hand up. “You don’t nag him the day after y’all make up!” He hit me with the tail end of his boa. “You at least wait until tomorrow. Now, introduce me.”
“Have you lost your damn mind?” I said tight-lipped to Courtney. “If you hit me again I’ma rip that thing to shreds.”
“And you gon’ have a problem too. This is Dolce and Gabbana—do you know how much this thing cost me? I should tackle you for the thought of it all. But I’ma let you have that. Now, introduce me, ‘cause I’m not going away.”
I sighed.
I think God really hates me.
“Drama,” I said to Courtney, “this is my boyfriend, Josiah. And Josiah this is Courtney—”
“Not just Courtney,” Courtney interrupted while cheesin’ extra hard. He shook Josiah’s hand as if he were having a seizure. “But Courtney Lay’mar Piére. Boy, you so bad that you make me wanna lock you up.”
What?
“That’s a good one, Courtney,” Khya said. “I’ma have to use that.”
Courtney continued, “I’m trying to be the first male cheerleader for the basketball squad, you think you can hook that up? My mama always said it isn’t always about what you can do, but more about who you know. And trust me, I would be good too,” Courtney rambled. “Picture it: me in black leggings, skin-tight black wife beater, and Voguing … all over da place … all … night long. The people’ll be like—'all hail to the king,’ ‘cause he runnin’ the court—oh wait.” Courtney turned his beady eyes toward me and stared. “Oh my …” He slapped his hand over his mouth. “I just figured out why you’re so angry.”
Where did that come from?
“What?” I said. “Anybody else confused? What are you talking about?”
“Oh nothing.”
“What do you mean nothing?” I spat. “What is it?”
“Forget it.” He shook his head and tapped himself on the hand. “Bad Courtney, bad.”
“Are you hearing voices or something? Would you just say it!”
Courtney shook his head. “I don’t know if I should say it.”
I wanted nothing more than to punch him in the face. “Just say it!”
He blinked. “You can calm down.” He cleared his throat. “Maybe I should ask you instead of assuming: Are you the hoodrat they were talking about online this morning?”
“Hoodrat?” Josiah said, taken aback. “What?”
“Yup, that was her,” Khya confirmed.
“Dang, girl, you all famous and everything.” Courtney shot his sick smile at me. I promise you, this dude rode every last one of my nerves.
“And you know this,” Khya said proudly, “ya heardz me. But I tell you what, we’ll take a lil heat from the paparazzi, ‘cause we’re dying to be in the paper, get chased down the highway, and have helicopters flying over our heads—but trust and believe, nobody else bet’not come crazy.”
“Fa’sho',” Courtney agreed. “ ‘Cause this yo goldmine, I mean this is your boyfriend, Seven.” He smiled at me. “So don’t worry …” His voice drifted as a group of cuties stood in the center of the parade and played a jazz tune.
“Oh, honey,” Khya said as if she were in a trance. “I think that one there has a record deal. Hey, lil cutie.” She waved.