Page 8 of Breaking the Rules
“I mean, you’ll have a cover-up on,” Lawryn said, pushing the garments into Savanhi’s arms and finding the nearby sofa to plop down on. “Have you heard from Zay?”
“This morning, when he told me I could go back to the apartment tomorrow night,” Savanhi spoke from behind the dressing room curtain.
“Knowing him, he’s replacing your bed and couch and making sure Brixx can’t move his legs to wiggle his toes, let alone climb the stairs to your apartment,” Lawryn said with slight laughter before continuing. “Why haven’t you asked him for the money for the studio? One phone call and you know he’ll have you booked up through the summer and fall.”
“Because when lessons slow down – and they always slow down – I’m going to feel like a failure again for taking his money again and nothing is coming back to him. At this point, I’d rather just figure out how to stand on my own feet.”
“I get that. I do, but you know, like I know, Zay thinks he’s your daddy, and he’s not going to let you struggle.”
“I know. But I have to also be realistic. Zay can go away at any second, and if I don’t know how to stand on my own, I’m not going to make it,” Savanhi shared, voicing her concerns out loud. She stopped talking and tried on the handful of outfits, finally settling on a hot pink, thong back bikini with a colorful, flowy skirt cover-up. Cute, flowy, and unassuming.
“Let me see,” Lawryn said, opening the curtain and finding Savanhi tousling her hair to the side. “Oh yes. The body is giving.”
Savanhi rolled her eyes and chuckled. “Thanks.”
She ran her fingers over the butterflies Lawryn tattooed on her pelvis over a year ago and sighed. “New beginnings.”
“New beginnings. Let’s let the stress of trying to get out of the hood and chase our dreams rest for one night. Tomorrow, you’ll be back under neon lights, loud, handsy men, and bullshit. Tonight, drink a little, smoke a little, relax.”
“Fine,” Savanhi huffed. “Even though I’d much rather be on your couch stuffing my face and watching the Mahogany channel.”
“You’re an old woman at twenty-eight years old. I blame that on granny.”
“Considering I didn’t have any other woman in my life,” Savanhi laughed. “Who else am I supposed to mirror. Hell, Zay was the one who stole my first bra and pads from the Stop N Shop. And then his dumb ass taught us about sex.”
“Oh my God,” Lawryn screeched, covering her face. “I will never forget that bullshit. He literally stood in the middle of granny’s house and said if a nigga pull out his dick, shoot it off.”
“It was ridiculous for real. And when I finally did it, my junior year of college, he went and beat the boy up for bragging about it.”
“I saw him a few weeks ago. Zay really beat him cross-eyed. Whew, I hate to see how Brixx is going to turn out.”
“Yeah, I’m creating handicapped men. Settling for men I know can’t do nothing for me, and then when it all goes to hell, Zay beats them as punishment. Maybe it’s really me?”
Lawryn popped her hip. “Stop talkin’ crazy. You just need a man with some bigger hands to hold all that you are.”
“Yeah, like I’m going to find that,” Savanhi said rolling her eyes. “You ready to go?”
“Mhmm,” Lawryn buzzed, popping the tags off. “This is on me. I’ll meet you up front.”
Savanhi got dressed in the oversized shirt and shorts she’d roamed into the boutique wearing. The pair took the short walk back to Lawryn’s apartment, stopping to get ice cream on the way. In the apartment, the women sat on the balcony and shared a blunt.
“Do you think it’s sacrilegious of us smoking Azul Kush?” Lawryn asked with a giggle at the end of her question.
Savanhi chuckled. “I’m not a Crimson Heart and what they don’t know won’t hurt them. Maybe one of them should make a strand that’s as smooth as this.”
“Listen to you, like you blowing trees every day.”
Savanhi rolled her eyes. “Nah, just with you when life slaps me in the face. That’s been what four times so far?”
“Granny, Dame, your miscarriages, and now.” Lawryn sighed. “At least it ain’t death. And technically, Dame is in prison for life but he’s still living so… it’s not so bad.”
“Still sucks though.”
“Yep, but we’re going to focus our attention on having a good time and blowing the bullshit in the wind. So, you finish that and let’s get going.”
An hour later, the pair was strolling arm in arm through a beachfront mansion. Their phones and keys had been zipped into a bag by the security at the front door. Whoever’s party this was, they were serious about their privacy.
“We not at no Tariq Style party, are we?” Savanhi questioned.
