Page 39 of Not A Homie, Lover Or Friend
LAKIA
When my brother’s eyes landed on me and Ma, I could see the flicker of evil in his eyes. He didn’t want us there. However, the way he engaged with his father, you would have thought the nigga had been around his whole life. When I saw the way my mother reacted, I just knew she had something brewing under that fucking wig.
I had already tried giving my mother a pep talk not to show her ass tonight. She claimed she wouldn’t, but something in my gut told me that was all bullshit. I tried talking Monfua into coming, not to start trouble, but also because I wanted him here, and I wanted to figure out a way for him and my brother to get along.
However, I knew none of it was possible and God wouldn’t allow that to happen until I resolved the issue with Harvey. When I first got here, I tried to talk to her, but she wouldn’t say anything to me. So, I kept my distance, but since everyone was mingling, I decided to try again, especially now that she was standing at the bar by herself. I watched Harvey as the bartender handed her a bottle of my brother’s favorite drink and a tray of blunts.Damn, she does know him better than I thought.Harvey looked good, too.
Her hair was in a high, messy ponytail; her makeup was laid; she was in an oversized vintage shirt with lace stockings and some knee-high black boots. I took a deep breath and walked toward her. I leaned in her ear, “You need help?”
She cut her eyes at me. “You don’t have to put on because it’s his birthday. I’m good.”
I shook my head. “No, I want to help,” I told her.
Harvey turned my way, giving me a short smile. “Lakia, I’m fine. I know you don’t like me and I’m okay with that. For the sake of your brother, let’s just keep it cool. Enjoy the night,” she finished and walked off.
She didn’t even give me a chance to apologize. I wanted to walk behind her, but before I knew it, she was lost in the crowd. I felt a light tap on my shoulder and it was my mother shaking her body to the music. “Harvey sure knows how to throw a party!” she yelled as she turned to the bar. “Let me get a gin and juice!”
I rolled my eyes. “You don’t have to yell. They can hear you,” I said to her.
“Girl, hush. Let me have some fun.”
“Didn’t you do enough of that when we were younger?”
My mom tossed her hand on her hips. “You and Myles are never going to let me live it down. I know I wasn’t the best, but let me try.”
She continued shaking her body to the music as the bartender poured her a drink. She took two swigs while holding it in the air. “Yaaas!I need a hot boy!” she sang. “You see Myles Sr acting like he ain’t see me. I should go say something to his black ass.”
There it was, her getting ready to start some shit. “Uh, ma not tonight.”
She swiveled her body in a circle to the music. “Woo shit!”
I glanced down at my phone, hoping Monfua would text me back. The DJ got on the mic, asking Foe to come on stage for a special gift, and I knew Flex was about to come out. The feeling of multiple taps on my shoulder caused me to turn toward my mother. “Look at that handsome thang right there.” She pointed at the door.
A smile eased on my face as I pushed past my mother so that I could get to my muhfuckin husband.
“Goddamn, Flex, you look good as fuck!” one of the girls walking by said to me.
I glided on my black lipstick as an added touch before I stood when I heard the DJ tell Foe to get on the stage. I glanced at my skimpy neon orange two-piece. The added glitter and baby oil on my body made me shine like a fucking star. My hair was in two long cornrows. I rolled the orange shiesty mask down over my face, leaving only my eyes and mouth exposed.
I pinched at my long lashes to ensure they were secure before I turned and strutted from the back toward the stage. The goal was to pull out my best moves. I wanted to leave Foe wanting more and I was determined to do whatever I could to do so. The DJ continued on the mic as I stood near the stage, looking at the back of Foe’s head as he sat on the stage.
“Foe, we know it’s your birthday so what better way to celebrate than to flex some pussy on the stage. Ayo Harvey, are you taking applications? Cause any woman willing to get her nigga a stripper for his birthday is one I want.”
Everyone laughed, but Foe turned to him, sticking his middle finger out. “You don’t want a job.” I heard Foe say.
I glanced in the audience, and Harvey was sitting in a chair directly in front of the stage, facing me. The way she gazed at him, I could tell they were locking eyes. The lady who came in with Lakia stood next to Harvey, waving her hands. She had on a short, red wig with worn-out curls; the back of it was flipped up by the neck. I could tell she had worn that wig more times than she could count. The damn wig was screaming for hydration. She wore a tan body suit with an orange, cheap shirt tied at her stomach, and that told me all I needed to know. It had to be his momma.
The DJ turned toward me and nodded. The lights dimmed low as he dropped the music. I slow strutted onto the stage.
Slow, strut, slow, strut.
Slow, strut, slow, strut.
Slow, strut, slow, strut.
By the time I was entirely on stage, I stood behind him and allowed my hands to caress his shoulders. I’d become nervous, and I had done this shit a million times, but this felt different. My eyes landed on Harvey as she crossed her legs, narrowing her eyes at me. I came around, standing in front of him. I almost melted because he was that damn fine. That’s when I droppedinto a squat-like position. My head tilted to the side as my body rocked.
Back, forth. Pussy tap.
