Page 11 of Body Language
“First of all, you're lucky I came. I was three seconds from putting on my robe and watching reruns ofGirlfriends.”
She looked me up and down and nodded. “Okay…you look good. Waist sittin’. Lace tight. I see you gave them thighs a lil coconut oil baptism.”
I posed. “Soft but slippery, baby.”
We turned toward the line of girls outside the club. All types: long wigs, no wigs, barely-there outfits, fishnets fighting for their lives. One girl was doing squats in stilettos, another was hyping herself up in the mirror of a compact.
Ty sucked her teeth. “Why shorty got on her cousin’s prom dress?”
“Why that one look like she just clocked outta Popeyes and kept the shoes on?”
“She did! That’s grease in them socks. I know that smell.”
Another girl walked by smelling like straight Bath & Body Works.
I whispered, “She got on A Thousand Wishes and desperation.”
We passed a group of girls side-eyeing us heavily. One of them had a BBL so fresh, her walk had a loading screen.
Ty leaned over and whispered, “Why does her ass look like it’s still buffering?”
I choked. “Bitch, I don’t feel like fighting today.”
A girl in line rolled her eyes at us and mumbled, “They not even all that.”
Ty turned around like a principal catching a student texting. “And YOU are not even in the club yet. Talk to me after your name on the flyer, boo.”
I hit a lil spin. “God don’t like haters with cheap heels.”
We finally made it to the front. Ty looked up at the GivGold sign and said,
“Okay, it’s givin’ money. It’s givin’ somewhere you meet a rich uncle who got a pacemaker and a pension.”
I nodded. “It’s giving maybe this was a good idea.”
She turned to me seriously. “You ready?”
I adjusted my hoops. “I was born ready.”
“Let’s go in here and make ‘em forget every bitch they ever loved.”
The room smelled like fresh perfume, baby oil, and competition.
After we finished dressing, girls were already inside a room, heels high and bodies glistening.
Me and Ty walked in like a damn announcement. We wore matching all-black fits. Mine was a velvet two-piece with cutouts on the hips and just enough shimmer to catch light when I moved. Ty had on a black mesh one-piece with silver piping and a deep V-cut.
Different styles, but same energy on purpose. When two dark-skinned women walk in with intention and symmetry, men go stupid and women go silent. We both had our hair slicked back into matching ponytails, not a single strand flying.
No frizz, no flyaways. Just finesse. That was our signature for years.
Twin energy.
Not because we were trying to be the same, but because that’s how you shake a room without touching a damn thing.
One woman with confidence is a statement. Two? That’s a damn conspiracy.
We stood against the back wall, quietly watching the other girls talk and stretch. You could smell nerves in the room. One girl kept pacing. Another was bent over, adjusting her fishnets like it was gonna fix her choreography.
