Gettin' Hooked (13 page)

I'm not
sure what I'd been expecting, but hell nah, it wasn't this. After waiting in line with a couple dozen other folks, we were finally let inside the club. Gettin' in went down just like James said it would. At the door we showed our IDs: Maurice his Cali driver's license, Kayla and I our high school cards.

James's boy peeped 'em out, then glanced at our faces, then let us through like he'd made sure were old enough to be inside a club that served alcohol.

I'd been to plenty of kickbacks and pallays, I knew the music would be loud and folks would be actin' a fool. But I hadn't anticipated the low lights throughout; the only brightness was the brilliant neon slung up to backlight a row of booze behind a long bar.

Standing on my tippy-toes and grippin' Maurice's hand, I glanced 'bout, tryin' to see over the tops of heads. A system had been set up in the back corner on a small stage and there was a dude workin' the table hella hard, spinnin' track after track and mixin' them up.

The bump of bass vibrated along my skin, the
boom-boom
findin' its place in my blood. Not exactly dancing, I moved with the beats, a roll of the head, a rotation of the shoulders. And the crowd moved in time, too, shiftin' and swayin' as one song scratched into the next.

Toward the center of the dance floor there was a few boys krumpin' wild-like, hittin' it and doing a battle. Kids at home had done this, too, but here, mixed with the flow of drinks and hyped sounds, each hard stomp, each wiggle and shuffle, seemed way more intense.

“I'll get us something to drink,” James shouted to be heard over the tunes.

I could see Maurice nod, but I didn't say crap, too focused on takin' in all my surroundings, the movements, the tiny-ass pieces of clothing, the grillz, the frillz, all the feet covered with Jordans.

I'm not sure how long James was gone, but it only felt like a quick sec before he was back with drinks.

“Here.” He handed out glasses.

Accepting without really looking, I brought it to my lips and drank it, then screwed up my face at the bitterness. “It's beer.”

“Yup.”

I'd had drinks before, but never did dig the taste. Glancin' at my cousin, I could tell she didn't really like it, either, even though she was fo' shizzle sippin'.

Stretchin' out my hand, I went to hand the glass back to James. “You drink it, I don't really like it.”

“You don't like to drink?”

Hell nah, I didn't. It made folks act hella stupid even though there was something a little fun about the goofy feelin' a few drinks created.

Chill, girl,
this little inner voice murmured. I was away from home. Slantin' my gaze from Kayla to Maurice, I hexa knew I just wanted this to be a good time, forget about consequences.

“I just don't like the way beer tastes.”

“So you want something else?”

“Sure.” I shrugged. Just for a moment I wondered if this was 'bout tryin' to fit in. Takin' a deep breath, then exhaling all slow-like, I let go of it…let it slide away. Nothin' wrong with having a little fun.

The song changed, the chant makin' me want to move my feet, to shake-shake my thang. Unlacing my fingers from Maurice's, I stepped away from him, joining the folks bumpin' the floor.

By the time song ended, my heart rate had stepped it up and my body was warm. When I looked back to where I'd left them standing, I realized James had returned and was holding a small glass filled with something blue.

And Maurice was still standin' there, too, the smile in his eyes shimmering as he watched me. I smiled back, then moved in their direction, acceptin' the drink from James as I approached.

“What is it?”

“Good.” He grinned wide, his now free hand reaching for Kayla's.

“Oh…” I took a sip.
Good
was right. The cool blue fluid was sweet and slightly fruity. Though I could still taste the nasty of alcohol, it was faint compared to anything else I'd tasted.

“You like it?” Kayla asked.

“Yup.” I drank deeper, the swallow feelin' hella good on my throat after dancing.

She turned toward James. “Can you get me one?”

“Me, too.” I handed him back my empty cup, then grinned all sassy-like at Maurice, who chuckled low in this throat beside me. Liftin' on my tippy-toes, I whispered in his ear, “It's good.” As I moved away, I intentionally brushed my lips across his skin, just enough to hear him catch his breath right quick.

And then I was struttin' away from him, smilin' as I shimmied back toward the edge of the dance floor, where I was welcomed into the mix of bumpers 'n grinders. Girls were laughin' around me, their arms in the air, their hips swivelin'. And there were fellas there, too, movin' in time with the
thump-thump-thump
of the beat.

By the time the song—or two, I'm not sure, 'cause I lost track—ended I was feelin' as warm inside as I was dampened by sweat formin' on my skin. I wasn't faded, but fa sheezy, I could feel the effects of the booze.

Cool fingers linked with mine, drawin' my attention as I danced, too small and delicate to be Maurice's. Lookin' back, all I saw was long strands of blond hair bouncin' over Kayla's face.

She angled toward me, lifting her voice to be heard, “Oh, my gawd, girl. This is hella tight.”

I nodded. The club was off the chain.

I'm not sure when it happened. I was havin' a hexa hard time keepin' track of time, keepin' track of which song blended into the next,
shit,
thinkin' clear at all. Things moved fast around me, bodies shifting, arms, people seeping like water. But things were moving slow, too. Colors blurred, patterns stopped makin' sense.

I was just groovin', the rhythm taking up residence in my body. Just dancing, and then he was there. Maurice was behind me, his hand on my waist, his hips grindin' into me. Laughin', I turned in his arms, grabbin' hold of his shirt, drawing him closer.

He laughed, too, his body tremblin' beneath my touch as my hands found their way beneath his shirt to smooth across soft skin and hard muscle. It's not easy to remember, but I think we were in the middle of the floor, bass blaring heavy around us, bodies brushin' against us, dancin' like everyone else was.

But it felt like we were alone. Just Maurice and me. Just his large frame. Just his hands. Just his lips. As the club faded away, the crowds, the noise, all I could see or feel was him. And I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to be with him. Really be with him.

I wanted, now more than ever—almost desperately—to be his girl.

“Kiss me.”

Had I said that aloud? I wasn't sure, but before the thought, or the words, were clear his mouth was on mine. It was sweet at first, just a brushin' of lips, just a slow glide of tongue. Then the kiss deepened. And we stopped dancin' and just stood there makin' out.

His hands roamed all free-like across my back, skimmed lightly over my waist, arced over my butt until he gripped the backs of my thighs and pulled me closer. I think I made some little moanie noise because he found a way to angle his head and stroke his tongue between my teeth.

And I gripped his shirt at his sides, holding on tight so the world wouldn't spin away from me. So I wouldn't fall into a puddle of goo at his feet. So my bones wouldn't melt leavin' me unable to stand without his help.

I was standin' in a club in Arizona with Maurice makin' out. I laughed against his mouth. I couldn't help it, it just seemed so hella silly to me.

The kiss ended. Maurice chuckled, too, and let me loose a little. But before I stepped too far back, he was draggin' me back into his embrace and huggin' me hella tight.

Things were a little hazy now, but it didn't seem like he hugged me long before he was whisperin' in my ear, “Walk it out, girl,” and movin' back to do the moves of the song. I laughed and joined him, shufflin' my feet, pumpin' my arms in rhythm with the rhymes.

It was all gravity, baby, as I danced a few steps away from Maurice and turned, tryin' hecka hard to focus on finding where Kayla and James where dancing.

I could see them a few couples over bumpin' and grindin' and doing their thang. Kayla looked over just then, and I returned her wide smile as she ground into her man.

A large hand settled on my upper arm, givin' me a little tug. Thinkin' it was Maurice, I turned into him ready for more of those yum-yum kisses and gentle caresses. Only it wasn't Maurice, but some other dude.

“Hey, tender, lemme get atcha.”

I pulled my arm away. Or tried to. His hold was firm. “Let me go.”

“Come on. You're bangin', girl. Holla atcha ya boy, I know you been lookin' for me.”

It was hard to focus. I squeezed my lids closed, then opened them again but it did little good. He wasn't going to let my arm go, so I scanned behind him lookin' for Maurice.

I have a man,
I wanted to shout at him, but with my mind buzzin' hard I was hella worried he'd know I was lying. “You're trippin'. I'm not lookin' for you or any guy.” Maurice was the only one I wanted.

“Yeah, right.”

“Lemme go! I'm not lookin' for anyone.” I was shoutin' now, because my heart was pounding against my ribs and it was gettin' hard to breathe, or because the music was so loud it was the only way to be heard.

“I saw your profile. I know you need what I got for ya.” He grabbed his crotch with his free hand.

“You're talkin' 'bout my shortie.” It was Maurice's voice, coming from directly behind me. Lawdy, just in time.

“This beezy ain't yours.” The dude's fingers were tightening painfully on my upper arm.

Maurice shoved the dude hella hard in the chest. “Call her a bitch again.” It was a taunt, a dare.

Because the guy was grippin' me, I stumbled back as he did, but was kept from fallin' as Maurice stepped in my direction and put his arm around my waist. Maybe 'cause he was off balance, or maybe 'cause he knew he was no match for Maurice, the guy's hand slipped from my arm.

Immediately Maurice was steppin' forward, puttin' himself between me 'n the other boy. His hands were fisted by his sides, his chest forward, chin high.

“Why ya blockin', brah?”

“Step off, punk, she got a man.”

I did? “No, I don't.” Snap, did I say that aloud, too? Both of their gazes shifted to me.

The other guy scoffed. Maurice's dark gaze locked on mine for a sec, and I swear, there was somethin' jealous and possessive there.

The other dude laughed. “See, she jeepin' you.” He grabbed his crotch again. “Maybe you not puttin' on your twirk good 'nuff.”

And with one thump, the dude hit the floor, Maurice lettin' his fist rain.

I narrowed my eyes, tryin' to get rid of the blur, tryin' hella hard to get rid of the feelin' of being a little unsteady.

My heart was poundin', my pulse racing. I couldn't think straight. Biting my lips so I wouldn't scream, I watched the scene unravel.

The guy had called me a slut and Maurice was fightin' him. Beatin' the shit out of him.

And then other fellas poured into the mix, some fists flyin' but most tryin' to pull Maurice off and hold him back. A couple other guys were fighting now, their hands flyin' up.

James was there then, both his hands on Maurice's shoulders as he shoved him back. “Take Imani outside,” he ordered, tryin' to get a handle on what was goin' down. “I've got this.” He angled his heard toward the door. “Bounce, dawg.”

Maurice nodded, turnin' toward me, but I was already moving away, trying to shove past people to get to the exit. I stumbled a couple times, my entire body tremblin', my knees feelin' like they were about to give way.

I could feel Maurice on my heels, feel the heat of him as his palm settled on the small of my back and urged me along.

We were through the doors now, and being splashed with the cool night air. It felt good rushin' across my cheeks, across my body that was mostly exposed. My skin bare.

My step faltered, but Maurice didn't slow. “Over there.” And he angled us so that we entered the shadows around the corner of the buildin', hidden from the glow of the streetlights.

“Why'd you say that?”

Huh? I closed my eyes, tryin' hexa hard to recall what I'd said that he could question, but my mind couldn't wrap around the memory, shiftin' from one event to the next. Circling back again.

“What?”

“That you don't have a man.” There was emotion in his low, rough tone that I couldn't read, anger or pain, I wasn't sure.

I swallowed. “I don't,” I whispered, my cheeks going all warm. I slanted my gaze away.