Ghetto Girls. Anthony Whyte

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СКАЧАТЬ save it, yo. You’re right, minor. You ain’t old enough. I’m a go holla at some major peeps.” Coco’s voice trailed off. She whirled off to the bar and came back with a drink in hand.

      “Don’t you think you’ve had enough of that stuff?” Deedee asked.

      “Okay, okay, so you gave Da Crew and me a twirl in your uncle’s rented car. Now you wanna tell me what to do?” Coco asked without even looking at Deedee. For a moment, Deedee reflected on what exactly she should say. She wanted to say ‘fuckoff, ’ but repressed the thought. Instead she pulled out her cigarettes, offering one to Coco, who quickly took it and lit it. Deedee stared at the cigarette dangling between Coco’s protuding lips.

      “You’re not even gonna offer me a light, are you?” Deedee asked.

      Coco’s face almost formed a smile, but she spotted Deja and his braids, double fisted making moves toward them and a frown quickly reappeared.

      “My bad, yo,” Coco said and gave Deedee a light.

      “Ah yeah! Ahight!” Deja shouted, caught up in a partying mood.

      He approached the girls clapping his hands. Deja’s eyes were locked on Deedee.

      “Yeah yo,” replied Coco, pushing Deedee aside and confronting Deja.

      “Yeah Coco, so you wit it now?” Deja asked with a smile.

      “Ahight, let’s ketch a wreck, yo,” Coco replied.

      Deja grabbed Coco’s hand and pulled her toward the gyrating pile on the dark floor. She was ready for the get down. After the blunt and the brew, Coco’s senses welcomed the groove.

      “Time to get busy, yo,” Coco shouted, whisking by Da Crew. The girls turned around in unison, following Coco and Deja to the dance floor. This was their world.

      Deedee watched as the trio partied with Deja. Suddenly, it seemed as if they owned the floor. They ruled the dance floor. Coco started moving precise, like a ninja anticipating a blow. The other girls took their cue.

      Before Black Moon could Enta da Stage, the girls had the spot rocking and the crowd shouting, “Go Coco, go Coco.”

      Da Crew moved in for the kill, but Coco was sharp. She was a queen in this realm and wouldn’t have it any other way.

      “I’m a take a break, yo,” Coco said, leaving the celebration on the dance floor.

      She made her way past people twisting, shaking their asses, and rhythmically bopping their heads to the urgings of an excited overly excited deejay.

      “Yeah, party people, we’re gonna tear the roof off this mother-sucker tonight and if you feeling alright say all night ...” The party crowd hollered back, “All night.”

      “Yeah and you don’t stop. We got playas in da house tonight…”

      “I hate when they do that preaching and shit, yo,” Coco said.

      “What shit?” Deedee asked. She was still visibly awed by the way Coco had dominated the floor.

      “Wow, Coco. You’re really some kinda dancer. Were you always this nice? I wanna…”

      “No, the question is, can you shake that thing, Ms. Cool One?” Deja asked, barging into the girls’ conversation.

      “Yeah, are you ready for me now?” Lil’ Long asked and grabbed his crotch, hips still in motion, aimed at Coco. It seemed all the boys flocked to the girls. Coco moved to keep things in check.

      “Need to play around some more before I get to ya. You look kinda serious, homey,” Coco tossed back at the disgruntled face of the crotch-grabber.

      “Ahight, ahight I’m a take you up on that,” Lil’ Long said, nodding.

      “Later,” Coco said, heading away from him. “I need some air, yo.”

      “What about you?” Deja asked as he swooped down on the defenseless Deedee.

      She had let him come too near. Deedee could not back up, and did not want to push him out of her face. The drama from the earlier introduction was still fresh in her mind. His breath was hot. It smelled awful, like burnt body parts mixed with alcohol. Deedee wanted to be cool, be down with the other girls.

      “Ahight, let’s dance,” she said, reaching for his hand and directed her thoughts to the dance floor.

      He wanted to grind, she kept avoiding contact. They continued dancing, and he was able to lay his hands on her hips. He touched her small waist and breasts. Each time, Deja pretended the contact was incidental. She didn’t push it. Or, paid it no mind and the sounds took her away—the bass-line driving hard, ricocheting from her hips sweeping her body into a pelvic grind. By the second song Deedee had allowed him to grab her ass. She shook it for him and he was pleased as he got up close and personal riding her whirling posterior.

      “Alrighty, party people, as we continue on wid that rub-a-dub style…” the voice of the deejay screamed colliding with Deedee’s efforts on the floor.

      “I hate those fucking deejays,” she said, mimicking Coco. It was now her exit line. She smiled as she abruptly brought the dance to an end.

      “I gotta get some air, yo,” Deedee said as she made her escape from the floor. Deja wore a jilted look.

      “You know where to find me,” he laughed, turning and rejoining the celebration on the dance floor. The place now belonged to Josephine and Danielle. They were moving in an encore of Coco’s performance. Da Crew was clearly enjoying themselves.

      “Another one?” Deedee asked when she encountered Coco holding a cigarette and glass filled with liquor.

      “Another one of what, yo?” Coco shot back with much attitude. She showed contempt for Deedee’s meddling. “Listen,” she continued, adjusting her expression with a crooked smile. “I know my limitations,” she declared, holding the last syllable slightly longer than normal. “I do this all the time. There’s nothing’ new to this. What’s it to you? Don’t sweat me. Can I live, yo?”

      “Well, I just don’t think you should have another...”

      “Da posse is still tearing shit up,” Coco burped. Deedee stared at Coco’s crooked grin, and then put a cigarette to her lips.

      “Yeah, they doing their thing. Gimme a light,” Deedee said, attempting to absorb the situation without sounding sympathetic.

      Coco obliged with a light. Her grin had gone awry, clinging to another corner of her mouth.

      “The performance, is it... Ah?” Deedee asked awkwardly.

      “Is it what?” Coco replied.

      “Is it your salvation?” Deedee responded too quickly.

      “Never thought about it like that. Never really,” Coco’s answer was cut short by the man on the microphone.

      “Yeah party people we’ve really got a fire СКАЧАТЬ