Page 33 of Not A Homie, Lover Or Friend
She dropped her head and came forward. I lifted her chin, “Why are you here?” I asked.
She shrugged. “My parents,” she mumbled.
“Do you enjoy dancing?”
She nervously turned to look behind her before looking back at me, “Yes, I dance at TSU, but this is different.”
I nodded. This I knew all too well. To love something, but having the pressure of your family hanging on your shoulders makes it unenjoyable. I glanced up at everyone.
Clap! Clap!
“Everyone open the floor,” I told the girls.
I glanced at Alyse. I wondered if her parents forced her to attend TSU rather than Juilliard, where she might have been more comfortable. I didn’t know Alyse’s story, but I wanted to know more because I saw a lot of myself in her. “I will start, and you will follow,” I paused. “I’ve been where you are. This is not about your parents, but you. If you enjoy ballet, then you dance with your heart.”
“Morgan, hit play when I tell you to.”
Morgan nodded before walking near the sound system. I stood in front of the wall-length mirror and stared at myself. Although I was good at what I did, I had gotten so lost in the outside world that I didn’t see myself as a ballerina; all I saw was a stripper, and shame consumed me. I took in a deep breath before I looked at Alyse.
Follow me.I mouthed.
There was no way I could show a weaker side to my girls. They looked up to me. Unbeknownst to them, their instructor was a stripper bitch, with a crazy nigga for an ex and a plan in my head for a come up. However, in this moment, I was Porsha the ballerina, the little girl who’d always dreamed of being on someone’s stage dancing to an orchestra that played their rendition of a modern-day classic.
I nodded at Morgan, who hit play. As the music started, I began.
Arms out, then up. Plié, plié.
Before I knew it, I was all over the floor. My body moved like silk as I got lost in the moment. There was no stripping, no chasing money, no Kareem, and no shame. I just danced. By the time I glanced back in the mirror, Alyse had joined me. She moved so perfectly that I stopped to watch her. She floated and moved with so much passion that it touched me.
Once she was done, we all smiled and cheered for her. I ended class feeling good and even more eager to open my own studio. The goal was to give girls the confidence they needed. To let them know, regardless of your background, a young black woman or girl can be in a setting such as ballet.
As the girls were leaving, Alyse stopped in front of me. “Thank you. I love dancing and ballet. I’ve been dancing since I was five, but” she paused. “My parents they much rather me get an education than dance. So, the compromise was me joining the dance team on campus at TSU.” She shrugged.
Before I could respond, three of the other girls snickered. “Be careful, Alyse, we don’t want you to learn how to be a stripper instead,” they said as they walked out of the room.
Well damn!Alyse just looked at me as she dropped her head and walked out. I was embarrassed because in that moment, I was feeling proud, but those little bitches humbled me so fast. They brought me back to reality and reminded me of my standing in life.
I had gone to grab my bag, when I heard my name being called. When I turned around to look, it was Kareem’s friend, Mison. I didn’t know what he wanted, but I smelled bullshit.
FOE
Chevy wanted us to come to his house today. I knew he was about to talk about the shit that happened at the Zoo. I mean, I get it, but in that moment, nobody could tell me shit. The nigga said something about Harvey, the girl I loved, and it was only right for me to defend her. Did I feel some way that he threw that marriage shit in my face, maybe, but it pissed me off, and I reacted. Now that Harvey and I weren’t talking, and the thought of losing her, a simple word like sorry seemed like the easiest decision. However, our problems had now exceeded something so minuscule.
I rang the doorbell and waited for him to answer. I didn’t see Zaria’s car, so I knew she wasn’t here, which meant this nigga was about to act funny about his plants and shit. That’s when the sound of the bass came rumbling in the driveway. When I turned to glance, it was Dio’s bad ass pulling up in his G-wagon. I couldn’t lie; the shit was clean as fuck. When he opened the door, the NBA young boy he was playing banged. He got out and jogged over to me. “Foe nigga what’s good?”
Dio looked good. He had really grown up before our eyes.
“Sup.”
He shrugged. “Chev called me out, so I’m here. You know, cause you were on some sucka shit. When will you niggas learn?”
My fist balled up, “Little nigga, who you talking—”
The door opened to Chev standing there with two slings on. One of his sons was in the front, and I would assume the other was on his back. “Finally get in here,” Chev spat. “Foe, you’re only a hop, skip, and a jump away, and you're moving like Terry the fuckin turtle.”
My lip curled up at Dio as I sucked my teeth before stepping inside. As soon as Dio and I stepped inside, I heard the click of the gun. When I turned around, Chevy had his shit aimed at me. “Nigga, next time you assault my plants, I’m going to shoot you. You thought I didn’t know. Fuck wrong with you. Menace ass nigga.”
Dio laughed hysterically as he shook his head. “Like I said, sucka shit.”
