Dance For Me (17 page)

 “Partying. I deserve it, right?”

 “Are you and Justin having problems?”

 Shamayla reached in her bag for cigarettes and lit up. She had on no makeup and her eyes glowed against her skin.

 “I’m trying to let him go.”

“Why?”

Shamayla made her eyes small at Hope as she took a drag.

“Zefar’s back in Vegas. I know after what Dominic did he left. I know because people I talk to, who know him, like his aunt and cousins. Well they warned me he just got back. If he finds out about Justin, he’ll kill me.”

 “He won’t-“

 “He’ll kill me,” she said firmly. “And Justin too, or hurt him real bad.” Shamayla hesitated for a moment. “I’m kind of afraid for Dominic.”

“Dominic can take care of himself.”

“You don’t know Zefar.” Shamayla took another drag. “He’s a coward.”

Hope believed her. You never underestimate a coward.

“I haven’t gone home. I haven’t been to work. I’m scheduled tonight but I want you to drive me there early, like right now. I’ll hang out until tonight.”

“Are you sure-“

 “Yeah.”

“What about a restraining order?” she asked, following Shamayla out of the house.

“Useless.”

Shamayla stood outside of Hope’s car, looking around for possible spies.

“I met some people I think can help me with Zefar.” Shamayla buckled herself in and with a shaky hand, put her cigarette to her mouth.

“What does that mean?” asked Hope.

“Just that,” Shamayla said. “Hey I need some stuff from Wal-Mart. Will you go for me?”

Hope nodded. 

“He doesn’t know where you are, right?”

“Not right now. He won’t come into this neighborhood anyway.” She rubbed cream on her face.  “I’m not going back home because he might know I stay there.”

She knew there was a lot of unexplained stuff going on with Shamayla, and she would explain it later.

 31… “Plan” in Motion

          Charla and Tristan crouched down behind the fragmented pink brick wall, watching and waiting for Hope or Dominic to come out. Hope’s car was parked in her spot but her apartment appeared dark as if no one was home. Also, Dominic’s truck was there too so the girls thought that maybe they were together. Tristan wanted to back out of this. She was sure she couldn’t stomach seeing them together again. 

       “I feel like an ass,” Tristan complained.

      “His light went off!” Charla whispered back. The girls crouched lower and saw Dominic’s door open. Sure enough, out walked Hope and Dominic behind her. The passed half hour was paying off. Still, Tristan’s eyes watered. It brutally killed her so much to see Dominic interested in someone else, to see another girl make him smile, make him happy.

       The girls gasped and sat completely down as Hope and Dominic approached his truck. They were talking but Tristan had no clue what they were talking about. Though their words were clear, Tristan couldn’t make sense of them. It was like trying to fit mismatched puzzles pieces together. She was so muddle headed and up to her throat with grief that nothing made sense. Moments later the truck backed out and rolled off into the darkness.

   “Come on,” Charla whispered, helping Tristan to her feet.

    “I don’t want to do this anymore,” Tristan sobbed.

   “Why are you crying? Tristan, seriously? You’re going to cry over him? Trust me, he’s not crying over you! He’s over there enjoying himself, happily banging another girl!”

    “Stop!” Tristan pulled away from Charla. “I don’t want to hear that!”

    Charla looked into her eyes, an idea forming in her head. 

     “Fine, stay here.”

      “Where are you going? Wait!” Tristan wiped her face with her sleeves and jogged after Charla who was hastily heading for the stairs.

     “Just wait here, be my look out.”

    “I thought we were busting up her car?”

    “Change of plans.”

   “I’m coming with you.”

    Charla and Tristan hurried up the stairs, Charla in the lead. She examined the window next to the door. 

    “The dumb ass left it open.” Charla reached in her back pocket and slid out a butter spreader. She stuck it between the screen and the window frame, easily popping one corner out.

    “I don’t think we should do this anymore!”

    Charla removed the entire screen and handed it to Tristan.

    “Pop it back in. Go in the corner over there and be my look out.”

   “No, I can’t.”

   Charla gave her a look like Tristan was confusing her.

    “I want to go in too.”

    “Fine, wait here. I’m going to climb through the window and unlock the door. Pop the screen back in.” Charla lifted her leg and climbed into the open window, separating the blinds. She tripped over something on the inside of the apartment and fell on her butt.

     Tristan turned around and peered down stairs to make sure no one was in sight. No one was so she popped the screen back in, roughly pounding the bottom corner with her palm. She couldn’t quite get it so she left it sticking out. The front door squeaked open and Charla waved her in.

    Tristan’s legs felt heavy and every step felt like it was taken in deep water. She was scared, thinking they would surely get caught. She could already see the cops arresting her and Charla.

     Charla felt up the wall with her hands and found a switch. The kitchen light went on.

     “No!” Tristan quickly switched it off. “Don’t be stupid!”

     Tristan turned on her phone and shone the white light. Charla rolled her eyes and held out the mini flashlight that was connected to her keys. They saw a Greta Garbo portrait on one wall and Hope’s bed pushed up against another. As they made their way toward the hall, passing the bed, Tristan couldn’t help thinking that this was the very bed Hope was screwing her boyfriend in. Her stomach churned and she looked away disgusted.

       Charla pushed open Hope’s bedroom door, shining her baby flashlight in front of her.

       “This bitch is weird. How many people live here?” Charla shone the light around the room. There was no bed or other bedroom furniture. There were paintings and a wooden with an unfinished painting on it.

      “She paints,” Charla muttered. “They’re crappy. She sucks at this. I’m sure it’s not the only thing she sucks.”

      Tristan’s wide eyes roamed the room through her cell phone light.

     “So what now?”

     Charla reached for the butter spreader. 

     “Here, do it.”

     “Do what?” Tristan asked looking horrified.

     “Shred them!”

    “I can’t! We can get in a lot of trouble for this. Let’s just stick with passing out escort ads with her face on them.”

          Charla huffed and held up the butter spreader. She jabbed into one of the paintings and ripped through it, dragging the blunt blade into a vertical tear. Tristan was about to tell her to stop but the sound of the thick rips gratified her.

             “Let me do one!” She took the butter spreader from Charla and moved onto the next one. She thought of Hope and Dominic together, anger pulsing through her veins. She stabbed at the canvas with elbow strength and then just as Charla had done, roughly split the canvas in two. Charla laughed and clapped, giddily grabbed one of the larger ones and kicked her foot through it multiple times. Tristan was enjoying herself for the first time in weeks. It was so exhilarating to tear through the paintings and the thought that they were of any significance to Hope gave her all the more drive to destroy them.

           Charla spotted a stack of them on the opposite side of the wall and flipped through them with the flashlight between her teeth. Then Charla shone the light around the room and spotted Hope’s jumbo box of paints and brushes. When she opened it she found an envelope on top of the markers. A moment later she hurriedly unscrewed the caps on the markers and squeezed the tubes, oozing globs of dark paint all over them. 

      “Shred these ones too!” She tossed Tristan a stack of paintings.

      Tristan didn’t care what they were. In the darkness she stabbed the paintings and destroyed them, laughing with tears of temporary joy rolling down her cheeks. Charla moved on from the paintings and emptied plastic tubes of paint all over the carpet. 

      “Grab some markers!” She kicked the box toward Tristan who gladly bunched markers in her hands. She took the caps off and scribbled all over the walls.

     “Let’s get out of here!” Charla said, hopping over the mutilated portraits. “Take some markers!” The girls then ran out of the room swirling the walls with the tips off the markers. Charla went into the kitchen and wrote WHORE across Hope’s refrigerator.

   “Let’s go!” The girls hurried out of the apartment, locking the door behind them. When Charla saw the corner of the screen popping out, she lifted her leg and jammed her foot into it, bending the frame a bit but locking the screen back into its place. The girls hurried down the stairs and hopped into their getaway car. It belonged to Andy, Charla’s nerdy friend.

  “Tell me that that shit felt good!” Charla shouted, speeding away from Dominic’s apartment complex.

  “Yes!” Tristan dropped her head back against the seat. “It felt sooo good. I just wish I could see her face!”

 “Ha! That’s what’s happens when you’re a stupid whore!” The girls howled, taking pride in what they had done.

  “I just can’t believe it we did that!” Tristan said in disbelief. “I can’t believe we actually did that.”

  “Trust me, she deserves a lot worse. And Dominic is next.”

      Tristan lowered her gaze. She didn’t want to hurt Dominic. In fact, she was really missing him and regretted not taking his calls. She reminded herself he probably just wanted to call to tell her he would be there for the baby. He probably didn’t want to be with her and seeing him with Hope pretty much confirmed it. Still, she’d actually give anything to be in his arms again. If only none of this ever happened…she wished Hope would die.

      “We’ll see what happens,” Tristan said quietly, staring out the window. The feel of satisfaction was gone quick and her grief returned, swallowing her whole.

 32… Can’t help myself

 His alarm went off at 1:30, yanking him out of deep sleep. Through the blurry living room light, Dominic made out his cell phone on the coffee table and pressed buttons till it went silent. He pulled a sweatshirt over his head, grabbed his car keys and locked up on his way out. The night was mildly cool and the drive through the deserted roads was quiet. He drove onto the freeway and into Las Vegas, where the city was lively and popping.

       Blinking bulb lights and large TV screen reflections rolled off of his windshield as he drove down Las Vegas Boulevard. He drove passed the flashing animations; one rich flashing hotel &casino after another.  He drove out passed the strip and pulled up in front of the Lucky Star, one of a few local casinos that opened up on the mini strip.

        Hope was already out front talking to Glenna. When she saw Dominic she told her friend bye and hopped inside of his truck, her thick false lashes still pasted on her eyelids. He leaned in for a kiss and turned the truck around. He turned back onto Las Vegas Boulevard and asked her if she was hungry. They stopped at a quiet Korean restaurant with a handful of diners and enjoyed a quiet meal in a booth. They exchanged few words, mostly flirtatious smiles as she slid her foot up his leg and settled it on his thigh under the table. He started looking into her eyes all intensely, making her warm up from the inside out. He whispered across the table that he couldn’t wait to get her home.

         He meant it. He paid more attention to her than to his food. In fact, he didn’t even eat much. He sat back with a little grin on his face, staring at her across the table, undressing her with his eyes. It started with her lips. He watched her mouth intently, when the fork delicately slid in and out of her mouth, how her lips sealed over the silverware. She noticed and put the fork aside, picked up the chop sticks and used those instead. So Dominic looked away from her lips and down at her slightly defined clavicle. It was sparkling with body glitter that covered her entire chest. He licked his lips as his eyes roamed down her chest to the two swells that were half covered with white cotton fabric.

          “Let’s go,” she said all serious, pushing her plate away. She could pass as a bad bitch if she was one, but Dominic knew she wasn’t stuck up or the bitch type. It was confusing but he liked it somehow.

          He left a few bills under a leaky glass of iced water and took her warm hand as they breezed across the restaurant and through the glass doors. He unlocked her door first, unexpectedly shoved her up against the side of the truck and kissed her under the white light of a lamp that lit up the parking lot. He couldn’t get enough of her. Hope loved the strangeness of him too. Things were brand spanking new and she loved his kisses; the taste of his mouth, the soft scent and the way kissing him made her feel all over. 

People passed by staring at them. An older lady smiled.

          She pulled her head away and he reluctantly did the same, pulling her door open. On the way back up the Boulevard he could hardly focus on anything but the way her leg crossed over the other. He kept glancing over to check out the goods. He was anxious to get her home and started speeding when they exited the strip. Once they were inside her apartment they felt each other up in the darkness and he turned her over on the bed. She pulled her dress over her head while he slid her underwear down her legs. He flipped her back over, tossing one of her legs over his shoulder. He liked being face to face with her.

          “How do you do that?” he murmured against her lips.

          Hope bit her lip and clutched onto his sides. It excited her, the way he was so into her, especially when she’d catch his eyes. And when they caught eyes it made things so much more intense for both of them. Afterward she got out of bed and went to the kitchen for a drink. Dominic lay in bed staring at the beads that reflected light from outside. They sparkled when she moved through them, coming out of the darkness from the kitchen. She folded her legs under her and sat on the edge of the bed, handing him the glass.