Gettin' Hooked (5 page)

I thumbed
into my cell, ? up 4 2nite, then hit the button to send the text to Kayla. I'd been home a few hours, but pretty much hadn't done much besides stare at Maurice's profile on GettinHooked.com. Damn—the boy is fine. It was cool looking through the profile lists of his likes and dislikes, and I found myself smiling a few times, really digging this guy.

It was kind of weird having looked at him all this time, passing by the cutie on my way to Kayla's, peeping him every chance I got, and knowing he was hot, knowing that I was down with what I saw. But it was totally different now, reading about him and realizing this was a dude I could like. I mean hella like. A lot.

I'd changed out of my damp jeans when I landed in the condo, and pulled on some warm sweats, then yanked my mad curls into a band at the back of my head, knowing they were going to frizz since they'd gotten wet. If I was going out with Kayla tonight I'd have to totally redo my hair.

Shoving the cell into my pocket while I waited for her to respond, I headed to Gram's room. I hadn't talked to her much since I'd gotten home and wanted to make sure she had everything she needed before I went out for the night.

Pale light seeped out her half-opened door, not just from the TV but from a small table lamp. That was kind of weird, considering I hardly ever saw the light on because it bothers her eyes. Leaning around the door, I looked inside and saw her sitting her favorite recliner, rocking slowly before the news.

“Hi, Gram,” I said, moving into her room.

She swiveled the chair, turning toward me, shifting something on her lap, then sliding it beneath an oversize book. “What is it, baby?”

My attention was fixed on the fact that she seemed to be hiding whatever it was that she'd been looking at. And I couldn't help wondering why. “Just wanted to see how you're doing, Gram.” Though I answered, I couldn't get my thoughts from lingering on what was now covered by the pages of her book.

“I'm good, girl. Don't you be worrying yourself about me, child.”

But her voice sounded sad, a little more distant than usual. Maybe she was looking at pictures of my granddad. I've seen her doing that a bunch before, and it always seemed to bring on this mood. Must be it, I decided, not wanting to press her much about it.

Moving farther into her room, I sat down on the edge of her bed so we could talk for a bit before I hit the town. Okay, not so much the town, but maybe a party or movie or
something
other than staying home on a Friday night. “Has daddy called?”

She glanced slowly at the phone, the look of sadness somehow overshadowed by the darker image of guilt. What she had to feel guilty about, I couldn't guess. She couldn't change the fact that my dad worked for the airlines and spent most of his time in the sky. Gram sure as hell wasn't responsible for the fact that my momma couldn't deal with being a momma and skipped out on me before I'd formed any real memories of her.

Gram shifted her gaze back to me, looking me straight in the face. “No, Imani, he hasn't. Not since Wednesday night.”

“He must be busy.” I knew he was, because I knew deep in my heart if he wasn't he'd have called me. But even knowing it doesn't help ease the ache sometimes. “He'll be home this week, still?”

“Baby, I'm sure he will.” Her voice cracked as she spoke, and the strange mix of sadness and guilt clouded the sweetness of her words. Gram shifted forward, reaching to take my hand. She squeezed gently, the touch soft but firm, always the way of her loving.

Clamping my lids closed, I willed away the flow of tears, something about Gram's mood dragging on me. Swiping my free hand across my cheek to catch the lone escapee droplet that seeped past my lashes, I took a couple of breaths, then opened my eyes to see Gram looking me in the face.

“Is it something else, Imani?” she asked.

“Nah, just miss him, is all.” Reassuring her nothing else was popping off in my life, I leaned toward her to give her a hug right quick, but when I put my arms around her the book shifted on her lap and I caught the corner of a picture.

Of me.
My most recent school photo, the corner tucked into an envelope, a handwritten address mostly still hidden beneath the hardcover of the book. My gram's handwriting, telling me she was sending it out.

Oh, lawdy, my chest hurt bad, as my heart stopped beating for a sec. And my breath caught in my lungs as some strange pressure tightened around my stomach. Who was Gram sending a picture of me to? Some long hidden place in my soul gave a shout-out, that maybe—just maybe—she was sending a picture to my momma.

I had to bounce. Had to step out of her room, step the hell out of our condo before I pressed her about it. Gram wouldn't do that to me. She wouldn't. I had to keep on believing that, and even with the little nagging doubt, I sure wasn't ready to look for an answer right now. Maybe not ever. My momma left me, I told myself. I didn't need to be fussing 'bout it at all. It was her loss.

Straightening away from Gram, I smoothed my damp palms across my thighs just as my cell vibrated in my pocket. “I'm going out tonight, Gram. You all right if I stay at Kayla's?”

“I'm grown, Imani. I know how to take care of myself.” The resentment I always heard from her when I spent time with my momma's family was back, replacing the other weirdness.

“I know.” I kissed her cheek, then looked at the door so I wouldn't stare at the corner of my picture poking out of its hiding place on her lap.

“You be careful, girl.”

“I will.”

“Don't be getting in no trouble, you hear?”

“Fo' sho', Gram, I'm not about trouble,” I teased by adding a wink, then scooted right quick out of the way as she swatted playfully at my butt. Nope, I wasn't looking for trouble tonight, unless you called hooking up with Maurice trouble. I called it fun.

Assuming, of course, that Kayla and I ended up marinating at the same place he was chillin' tonight. Hopefully my girl had the inside track of where we'd find him tonight, though I'd have to be on the down low about peeping the info since she didn't know I was feelin' the boy.

“I'll let you know when I'm out.”

“All right, baby.”

Forcing a smile, I left her room, closing the door all the way this time, then fiddling in my pocket for my cell.

Dwn 4 a prty?, glared at me from the small, dark screen. Hell, yeah, I could be down for a party, and if it was Kayla's crew, there was a good chance my boy would be there, too. Grinning, I thumbed in my yep, then headed to my room to pick out something hella bangin' to wear.

As I sorted through my Apple Bottoms jeans and my saucy tops, I thought about calling Kayla and trying to find out more about the party. Was it a kickback or a house party? Was Moms and Pops out of town, 'cause that fa sheezy would change up the scene, and maybe how I'd want to dress. Although, hoping Maurice was there, dress to impress would be the code for the night.

Gt U in 45, bleeped a message onto my cell, telling me that Kayla and I wouldn't be alone tonight and one of her girls most likely would be driving. With only forty-five minutes until they came to get me, I knew I had to pick up my getting-ready pace.

Tossing a couple hella cute outfits on the bed, I headed for the bathroom and plugged in my flatiron, knowing I was going to have to redo most of my hair since it'd gotten wet and the kink was coming out in a fierce way. It was while I was waiting for the flatiron to heat up that my mind kept wondering, drifting back and forth between Maurice and my picture hidden on my Gram's lap.

Part of me wanted to blow off Kayla, party, Maurice, going out. That part wanted to march back into my gram's room and demand to know what the hell that picture was all about. I knew, I really knew, there was something to it. And as much as I wanted to dismiss it no matter what Gram was hiding, relying on the excuse that I didn't give a shit, that same part kept nagging me 'bout it.

And then, how could I blow off the chance to spend the night at a party with Maurice? Even if that picture had something to do with my momma, as I suspected, hell no, my momma wasn't worth skipping out on the guy I wanted. Wasn't worth the time my head was fussing over it.

On the here and now relationship I was hinting at getting is where my mind belonged. On Maurice, with his caramel skin and warm, friendly eyes. With his cheeks cut with dimples, and his sculpted bod, that did silly things to my insides when we touched.

Combing through a chunk of hair, I clamped the iron on it, then pulled it straight, repeating the process until my hair was tamed and back into pre-rain condition. I didn't bother with makeup much, but had a serious thing for lipgloss. Applying my favorite, I headed back to my room to dress.

Not sure which of the outfits to choose, I dialed my cousin's cell real quick.

“What up, girl?” she answered.

“Hey, K. Kickback casual, or sexy dance-ware?”

She giggled across the line. “Sexy dance-ware, Imani.”

I laughed at her tone. “Oh, it's like that?”

“Yup.” She mumbled something to someone else before coming back on the phone. “You 'bout ready?”

“Gimme ten minutes.”

“Sure thing, girl. See you in ten.”

The line went dead, so I clicked my cell shut, then hustled to pull on some low-rise jeans, a pink thin-strapped short top, and some matching K-Swiss sneakers. Once dressed, I smeared a shimmering, sweet-scented lotion across my skin, made sure my gloss was glimmering and found a puffy jacket.

With just a few minutes to spare, I shoved the sweats I'd been wearing and a change of clothes into my pack, and quit my room.

I knocked once on Gram's door, then stood there waiting for her to call me in. Normally I'd have just knocked then stuck my head inside, but I wanted to give her time to put those pictures of me away if she still had 'em out. I couldn't deal with this now. I had other things to trip on.

Not only was I trying to arrange my own thang, but I had messages from a grip of guys and girls from Howard and Creekside who were all looking for hook-ups and prom dates.

“Yeah, baby?” I heard Gram say.

Opening the door just enough for me to peek in, I leaned inside and said, “Gram, I'm out. I'll be back tomorrow.” I waited for her sour face, the one she always gets when she knows I'm going to my cousin's. I only saw a slight glimpse of it, which was kind of weird, but I wasn't going to twiddle on it.

“Don't be out too late, Imani. You know the only things open after two are bars and legs, and you don't belong doing neither.”

I shook my head, stunned by her rebuke. Gram warned about boys. That was standard. This is the first time the warning got specific—and kind of crude. Gram was off her rocker, acting hexa strange tonight.

My throat feeling a little tight, I swallowed before responded. “We'll be back to Kayla's before two, Gram.”

“Good girl.”

“Hey, Gram?” I glanced at her, catching her eyes. The moment held there, suspended and stretched.

“Yeah, baby?”

The words were there, all lingering in my throat, curling and taking shape in my mouth, clinging desperately to my tongue. The questions were busting to come out, but I couldn't let them.

Silence seeped across the room causing the fine little baby hairs on the back of my neck to stand up and a shiver to creep down my spine. The quiet tension continued, only to be interrupted by the buzz of my cell, the call from Kayla letting me know they were here.

I hesitated shutting it off, not breaking eye contact, knowing now it was just a matter of time before I knew what was up, and pretty damn sure I didn't want to.

“Go ahead, Imani. They're waiting on you.”

I nodded, then looked away. “Night, Gram.”

“Night, baby.”

Holding tight on to my pack, I headed out the door. Time to forget the home-side drama. Time for boostin' mine.

Kayla's
friend, Dasia, drove her older brother's Impala with twenty-inch gold rims, and a tight paint job. The perfect ride to be creepin' up to parties in, and Dasia knew how to swing and dip it.

Giggling hard as she smashed the brake and flung the ride to the curb and into Park, it took the three of us a minute to quit laughing before we left the car, straightening our clothes, messing with our hair, and double-checking the gloss on our lips.

The night was dark and damp, but at least the drizzle had quit. Low clouds hovered, blocking out any light we may have gotten from the moon. The streetlight at the corner blinked in and out—mostly out—and didn't do much to brighten up the drive.

The party had to be bumpin' because the streets around the alley were packed with cars and we'd had to park around the corner and a couple of courts over before we found a spot. We hadn't walked far, though, when the thumping of bass broke into the night's silence.

A little farther and we started seeing others heading toward the party. Strangers to me, but Kayla and Dasia's peeps. They called out “hi,” a couple of times, waved a few more.

“This is gonna be hexa fun,” Kayla commented, snapping her fingers and swiveling her hip to the side.

Dasia laughed, copying her finger snapping and hip movement. “Fa shizzle.”

“You think there'll be folkies I know?”

“You know me,” Dasia said, slinging her arm around my shoulder.

“True.” I glanced at Dasia. She was strikingly different than Kayla, her dark skin and cornrowed hair was contrasted by Kayla's creamy complexion and long blond waves. I'd known her for a couple of years, and we'd hung out plenty, since she was Kayla's girl. She was cool people, too, fun and sincere. We got along really well.

“Besides, girl—” Kayla cut in “—what's it matter if you know anyone? Look at you. All the fellas will be on ya in a minute. Yadadamean, yadadamean?”

Dasia and I looked at each other again, then both at Kayla before we cracked up.
Yadadamean
coming from her sounded hella funny, and we knew she'd added it for the silly effect.

“Yeah, girlie, I'm feelin' ya.” I knew I looked good—nothing wrong with being confident. And I knew I never had a problem pulling boys. But there was only one dude I was wanting up on me tonight. And if there hadn't been a prob getting his attention, I wouldn't have been trippin' about my lack of a prom date. I'd have had one. Him.

I took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “I'm feelin' ya, K,” I said softly, then did a little Vanna White impression down my body, “but if so many dudes are wanting some of this, how come I need GettinHooked.com to get a prom date?”

“You told me why. You've known the boys at your school too long.”

“I guess.” My mood was deflated a little.

“Girlie, GettinHooked.com is off the chain. How'd you think of it?” Dasia asked.

I shrugged, but couldn't help the proud grin. “I've been going to school with the same dudes since kindergarten. They're tired and played out as boyfriend material for me.” I winked. “But Creekside fellas are fresh meat for me, same for you and Howard.”

“Yup.” Dasia flicked open her ringing cell as she answered.

“I was updating MySpace and realized we needed something like that, but locals, girlfriend, so hook-ups could happen.”

“That house,” Kayla said, pointing into a cul-de-sac and the house what had music pumping out and kids flowing in.

We turned toward it and kept walking and Kayla kept talking. “And it's jumping off. We have more than two hundred pages now, and the hook-ups are happening. Hella people are talkin' now.”

“I'ma find me a boy,” Dasia said, her voice drowning out into the rhythm and raps as we entered the house.

It was shaded inside, just some low lighting in the back end of the front room. The second we stepped in the door I could smell the scent of Henny, boody-funk of folks dancing too hard and the lingering fragrance of Mary Jane.

Fo' sho', the parents had to be out of town or something, because this was the sort of pallay that woulda been shut down otherwise.

A few more steps in and Dasia disappeared into the crowd, hugging people as she moved away, shaking her ass with each step, following the rolling beat.

Kayla grabbed my hand, pulling me a bit to the side. “Dayum,” she shouted over the roar of the music and hype of her friends. She hugged a few guys—cute ones, but nothing special—intro'd me right quick, then started talking to them, the words lost to me in the volume of the party.

Taking on the rhythm, I started flowing with it, rocking beside Kayla as she laughed at something one of the dudes had said. I knew one of them was talking 'bout me. I could feel the eyeballs, could hear the murmur of their voices and knew Kayla's matchmaking techniques.

But I was using the movement of my dance as a disguise to look around the room, shifting so I could get peeks over bobbing heads and around grinding asses. My cousin could try all the fixin' up she wanted, but I was looking for one guy.

And I found him.

Maurice stood out, taller than many of the dudes there, his shoulders broader. He was dancing, his body doing the same sort of hyphie movements I'd seen when he was mowing the lawn.

My pulse picked up, and I knew I was staring. And smiling. Thinking 'bout my approach and getting prepped to dance, I slid off my jacket. Body heat would keep me plenty warm enough.

“Where should we dump these?”

One of the guys Kayla was talking to whistled between his teeth. “Nice. A dime girl. Lemme holla atcha.”

Kayla smacked his upper arm, but she was grinning wide. She slanted her head toward a chair no one was sitting in. “Let's put 'em over there. I'll keep an eye.”

I nodded and handed off my jacket, my attention returning right quick to Maurice.

“—with your cousin,” I heard the guy saying something to Kayla, trying to get a hook-up with me, I'm sure. It was the outfit, the dress to impress had done the trick, I thought with a smile.

Not trying to diss, but I wasn't interested, so I pretty much ignored him. “I'm gonna dance,” I said to Kayla as I started to move away.

Ducking and dodging around the craziness of the dance floor, I'd only gotten halfway across the room, smack in the middle of a mob of folkies getting their grooves on, when I stopped dead in my tracks.

Maurice wasn't alone.

He was now grinding with a girl, and I stood there, getting whacked into and bounced around, just staring. Unable to move. Hell, hardly able to breathe.

Standing like a statue, frozen in my K-Swiss, and Maurice lifted his eyes, his gaze landing smack on me and sticking. His expression was unreadable, the warmth of his smiling eyes missing from his stare.

And dammit, but I felt my own well up, and tears gather on my lashes. I could only hope he was far enough away and the room dim enough that he didn't notice. I tried to push them back, to keep them from falling, and I'm pretty sure it worked, but I couldn't be sure because I couldn't think.

The music faded, one song ending and the pause before the next deafening. The second ticked by gingerly before the next song bumped from the speakers, and still we looked into each other's eyes.

Then the girl rubbed up against him, stroked her hand across his chest, turned and followed the direction of his stare. I knew the moment she saw me, shock sending a shiver down my spine.

I knew the beezy—Brie. Brie, the bopper, who'd be spreading her legs for Maurice tonight, if he wanted it.

I glanced away from her right quick, looking Maurice in his still-expressionless eyes. I glared just for a sec, then somehow found the will to turn and walk away, slipping between a couple of people so he couldn't see me anymore.

My chest was aching, something bitter flooded through my blood and churned painfully in my gut. Moving across the room, I found a narrow piece of unoccupied wall and leaned my back against it, a little freaked that my knees might not hold.

I couldn't really go back over to Kayla, because really, what was I supposed to say? I wanted your neighbor but I was too cowardly to tell him, so I came up with a scheme to get him, only it backfired on my ass and he ended up with an easy sleazy ho.

Unable to help it, I glanced toward him, my spot obscured by the crowd and I didn't think he'd be able to see me. But Brie could. She was hella muggin' me, like I was some sort of threat.

I scoffed. I wasn't offering what she was, and Maurice was a dude. Most don't give up the sure thing for something they're not getting yet.

Turning away, I closed my eyes and exhaled a couple of times. As I evened my breathing, my mind skipped back to the times I'd hung with him, the ride home in the rain, the digits he'd put in my phone, the interest in when I was putting up my GettinHooked profile.

I'd thought maybe. But what did I really know 'bout him? Sure thing, I'd read his profile lists and dug him. More than his fine-ass looks. But I wasn't into playas, and didn't do second best. If he was the kind of boy who went for girls like her, forget him then, I was through.

Gathering my scruff, I shoved off the wall and made my way back to where I'd left Kayla, hoping the guy who'd been interested was still hanging round. He was. I moved right up next to him, close enough for him to catch a whiff of sweet-scented lotion, close enough for him to catch a glimpse down my saucy top.

Putting my hand softly on his arm, I leaned a little closer, then whispered, “Dance with me?” so just he could hear. Yeah, I was playing tease, but I needed to. I needed his attention because my confidence was tweaked by Maurice choosing a bootch over me.

“Fo' sho', little momma,” he said, bending to put his arms low around my back, then moving us farther into the room and away from the group Kayla was chilling with.

Putting my arms around his shoulders, I let him grind some, allowing the bass and melody to lead our movements. The second he bent his head and started softly singing the words of the song, I knew the boy was hella faded, his breath straight reeking from tippin' back a bottle.

I laughed, his words slurred, his body laxed and just tried to get into dancing and forget about the glare burning on my back. It was hexxa strange the way I could tell the difference between when Brie was staring uglies and when Maurice was watching. But I just knew.

And knowing that it was Maurice's eyes landing on me, I snuggled closer to my dance partner. Hell, Kayla had introed us, but I hadn't even bothered to remember his name, too overly focused on the hottie I was trying to zero from my thoughts. And from my heart.

And though I couldn't see him, I knew the moment Maurice looked away, the wash of cold across my skin unmistakable. I knew I was finished with him. If Brie wanted him, she could have him. But as the cold trickled down my back, I yearned for the return of his heat.

“Hey,” Kayla said, yanking me back into the moment as she shoved my jacket at me. “A neighbor called the popos. Time to bounce.”

I stepped away from the cutie, shrugging on my jacket.

“Lemme roll with y'all,” he said.

“Nah, maybe another time.” With an added wink I let the tease sink in, then fell into step with Kayla as we headed for the door. Dasia caught up with us right as we stepped outside, and the three of us jogged to the end of the court, then disappeared into the moonless night before the twirl of red and blue arrived.

I could only hope now that Maurice wasn't parked anywhere near where we'd left our ride. I didn't want to see him again tonight.

Maybe never again.