“Okay. Tonight we’re coveringFat Maby Nicole Jackson. Me personally, I had to buy some new batteries. Whew!” Van fans herself, and Ty’s jaw drops.
He’s so far gone, it’s hilarious.
“The twist at the end was a muthafucka. I’d never thought the cousin was that grimy. A nigga had to go back and reread after finishing,” Reem says.
“Y-y-yeah. Crazy. The sex scenes was fire though.” Ty clears his throat and grins at Van, who waves him off.
“I, for one, loved the BBW representation. Piggy was that bitch, and even though she had to do something strange for a little piece of change, I’m glad she got her happily ever after.”
“Okaay! Me too, Dally,” I squeal. “She’d been wronged by everyone and still came out on top. Fuck Tab!”
Dal leans over and we slap hands.
“You didn’t feel like she was wrong in the beginning?” Reem asks me.
I just shrug. “She had to do what she had to do. I couldn’t imagine fleeing some shit like that and not having a support system.”
“I agree, Macy. Piggy had been trapped in an abusive relationship, left, and was seconds away from going back before she was propositioned. You never know what you’d do until your back is to the wall.”
The look on Van’s face turns haunted. Ty turns to her and whispers in her ear, but she just nods and smiles at us. “Enough about that, though. Our president chose an erotic novella. Let’s get into the good stuff; I wanna hear your best sex stories.” Her grin turns salacious and Reem and I exchange another glance.
“You seen Ty covering his lap with the pillow? Poor boy was about to jizz on himself,” Dal cackles as we share a sundae at the kitchen island later tonight.
Peanuthead picked out the flyest ring, and proposed to her on his birthday, on the tripsheplanned. When they got back, she and Denver moved into his house, which meant I had to move, too. Dal tried to say she wanted the extra income from renting out her home, but she’s not fooling me. Her and my bestie-in-law want to keep an eye on me like I’m their firstborn. But shit, maybe I need it.
Peanuthead is out of town, and the kids are asleep. It feels like we’re fifteen again, snickering over something we had no business eating so late at night.
“I swear, Reem picked that book just to torture him. Van for sure is one of those Erykah Badu freakazoids. I don’t know why he doesn’t just ask her out.”
Dal scoops a huge glob of chocolate syrup. “Speaking of Reem… you two are pretty close. What’s up with that?”
I roll my eyes. “Even if I wasn’t pregnant and out of commission, we are just friends.”
“You? Friends with a man?”
I fake gasp. “I have friends, Dal.”
She rolls her eyes and scoops more sundae. “All your male friends are in love with you, Mace. I wouldn’t be surprised if Reem is, too.”
I shake my head. “Nah. That’s really just my bro. Reem likes model, bougie types. And you know I steer clear of anyone who could pass for my brother.”
Dal snorts. “Oh, yes, you and your obsession with ethnically ambiguous men. Bitch takes one semester abroad and thinks she’s Galleria from The Cheetah Girls.”
I stick my tongue out as she laughs more, but she stops when the back door opens.
She beams behind me. “Hey Shad. What you doing up?”
I nearly choke on ice cream, letting the thick liquid slide down my throat.
Shotta is behind me.
One of my favorite rappers. One of thefinestrappers. Who happens to be Brina’s best friend, and Dal’s peoples.
Breathe, bitch. Don’t be a groupie.
Mind you, I’m the same girl who hadboththe Native Sons trying to choose up on me a few years back. Shit, PC still likes my pictures.
But something about Shotta makes me feel like a nervous wreck, especially up close.
