Page 4 of Next Level
Dawg and Zoom, our tracker/hacker, approach with beers in hand. Dawg hands me one and says, “Prez, have you seen Sunshine? Christ, she’s on point today, throwing down some oldies and looking fine as fuck!”
A remix of “Low Rider” by War starts booming through the speakers.
“Damn. She is on fire right now. I was wondering who was DJing today. I’m sure Sammie girl’s over there.” I take a swig of the beer.
Dawg has had a mad infatuation with Sunshine ever since he saw her DJ a few months back. She’s good, I’ll give her that.
“Yeah, she’s over there dancing with her girlfriends. Jay’s got eyes on her,” Zoom informs me.
We always have someone watching Sammie when she’s with me. I used to follow her around, but she started getting mad atme, telling me she needed space and that nothing was going to happen to her with all of us men around. So now when we’re out at functions, I have a prospect lingering in the shadows keeping an eye on her.
I push off my bike. “Let’s make our rounds so we can get out of here and get ready for the party tonight. I need a shower.”
My brothers all stand in agreement.
As we approach the DJ area, I see Sammie dancing with her girlfriends just as I expected, and Sunshine is bouncing behind the decks. Sammie loves to dance. Ever since she was young, she’s always been dancing or playing video games.
Being president of the club, I always have men around me. Usually a couple in front and a few behind.
As we make our way through the crowd, I tip my chin and do a few fist bumps here and there. After COVID, not many people shake hands or embrace, at least not at big events like this. Now, if it were at a meeting of sorts, the usual handshake and one-arm embrace occurs.
“Aw, yeah,” I mutter to myself when I hear Fisher’s rework of “Jamming” by Bob Marley come to life. I finish my beer, handing my cup to Dawg next to me. I smirk. “Time to embarrass my girl.”
Dawg is grinning from ear to ear, but his eyes move past me over to Sunshine.
I start to dance, moving up next to Sammie and her girlfriends. Once she sees me, she stops dancing and yells, “Oh. My. God. DAD. STOP.”
I shake my ass. “Don’t you, DAD, me. What? You don’t want to dance with your old man?”
Her friends all squeal, loving it, as they move around with me dancing in the middle. I put my arms in the air and wait for the music to drop before doing a little dance, shaking my ass again.
My brothers are all whistling and hollering at me as Sammie starts to laugh and push through her friends so she’s next to me dancing.
“Pop, seriously. Dance right.” Sammie gives me her threatening eyes. “You’re embarrassing us both.”
I throw my head back with a chuckle, and I do as she says. I begin to dance normally, saying, “Okay, Punkin,” and move my body to the music.
People go on with their business now that the show is over. My daughter starts moving around me and doing some footwork. I keep up with her. I was a raver, so I do have some moves.
I glance over at Sunshine, who is bouncing her shoulders with her headphones on, setting up the next song to mix in, which is my cue to exit the dance floor. Sunshine plays “Rizz” by AYYBO. The beat hits, and everyone gets excited. More people join the dance area.
I see Dawg next to her, shuffling his shoulders, pounding his fist in front of himself to the beat as he bobs his head.
Time to go. The car show is almost over, and I want to be out of here before all these people want to leave all at once.
I whistle to get my brothers’ attention. “Round everyone up. Let’s roll,” I announce.
Dawg turns to speak to Sunshine, and I lean into Sammie and say, “It’s time to head out. Say your goodbyes.”
Sammie stops dancing, not happily, then complains, “No, Dad,” with a pout.
Again, with the DAD.
She only uses ‘Dad’ when it’s a serious situation or she’s mad. I don’t say anything. I just give her a stern look.
She knows better than to try to fight with me in public. Her whole demeanor changes, giving me the puppy eyes. “Pops, can Amanda and Sarah stay the night?”
I tilt my head, agreeing.
