looks could kill, her fulgurant eyes would have done a drive
by. She opened her mouth to speak and suddenly thought better
of it. She got out and slammed the car door. I watched her as she
walked away angry. I was sure she was unconscious of the sensu-
ous sway of her hips. Her struts forceful like she could take out
fr ustration on the concrete. I’ve always wondered what their
mommas gave them. Moments later she returned. I could not help
admiring her walk.
“ Here,” she said passing me the keys along with a slip of paper.
Just then a car drove by, music bumping. It was a sleek, sky blue
Lexus SC430, full of shouting females. The car made a U-turn in
the middle of the street. There was always something about col-
lege females, they’re always hyperactive, like where is the party at.
I watched Hope as she watched the car. “No, this can’t be hap-
pening to me,” she mumbled. The car pulled in right next to us.
Females were five deep. They were loud and excited to see Hope.
I stood outside to get an eyeful of diamonds glistening. I felt like
a pimp on a hoe farm. All eyes on me.
“ No it isn’t! Not the good sister Hope. On the smoooove
creeeep,” the driver droned. The rest of the girls cracked up in
giddy laughter. Hope smiled painfully like she was getting a tooth
pulled. The driver was mixed with something. If I had to guess, I
would say Spanish. Her complexion was amber, like she was kissed
by the sun. Her deep green chatoyant eyes were stunning, they
45
L i f e
could hypnotize a man. She had me spellbound. She had long
silky black hair that cascaded down to the middle of her back, like
she had just brushed it and let it flow. She stepped out of the car
wearing a white halter top and tight-fitting blue jeans. Her walk
was provocative, like the purest essence of a woman’s femininity.
The pussy print between her legs was balled up like a fat fist on
both sides. Damn she was wearing them jeans. I bit down on my
knuckle and Hope rolled her eyes at me. The driver never took her
eyes off of me. Not even one second. It felt as if I were being
inspected.
“ Trina, this is L.”
“ Heeeey L, with your fine self,” cooed a girl in the car.
I tried my damnest not to blush and then they all joined in
harmously, “Hi, L.” I was cheesing like a brotha posing for a
toothpaste commercial. Then someone yelled, “look at those cute
dimples.” The whole time Trina was checking me out, my jewelry
and my clothes. There was something uncanny about her. Like she
knew me from somewhere.
“ Damn, ain’t you and Marcus still together?” Trina asked,
slinging the words in Hope’s face.
“ I’m on my way to his house,” Hope retorted, with her lips
twisted to the side accompanied by a tilted neck. I could tell there
was friction in the air. Women have a strange way of communi-
cating. They use body language like chickens that used to have
arms.
“ Trina is my Sorority Sister,” Hope said to me. As if on cue the
girls in the car made a noise, I guess it had something to do with
their sorority. They all erupted in jovial laughter.
“ She’s from the Bronx.”
“ Wuz up Shouty?” I said, giving her a nod like I hardly
noticed she was there. One of the girls said, “Ask him if he has any
friends fine like him.” They all laughed, everybody except Hope
and Trina. I watched as they talked in generic chatter while the
sun beat down on us. I felt a trickle of perspiration cascade down
my spine as I looked at all of the beautiful sistas. It was like I was
46
L i f e
in paradise.
“ What room are you staying in?” Trina asked, completely
catching me off guard.
“ Who, me?” Dumbfounded. I looked at the key in my hand
and answered “A-4.”
“ We’re going to get something to eat, you want to join us?”
Trina asked like it was a challenge. The whole time she just looked
at me.
“ No, I was dropping L off. I gave him a ride from Sarasota
by. She opened her mouth to speak and suddenly thought better
of it. She got out and slammed the car door. I watched her as she
walked away angry. I was sure she was unconscious of the sensu-
ous sway of her hips. Her struts forceful like she could take out
fr ustration on the concrete. I’ve always wondered what their
mommas gave them. Moments later she returned. I could not help
admiring her walk.
“ Here,” she said passing me the keys along with a slip of paper.
Just then a car drove by, music bumping. It was a sleek, sky blue
Lexus SC430, full of shouting females. The car made a U-turn in
the middle of the street. There was always something about col-
lege females, they’re always hyperactive, like where is the party at.
I watched Hope as she watched the car. “No, this can’t be hap-
pening to me,” she mumbled. The car pulled in right next to us.
Females were five deep. They were loud and excited to see Hope.
I stood outside to get an eyeful of diamonds glistening. I felt like
a pimp on a hoe farm. All eyes on me.
“ No it isn’t! Not the good sister Hope. On the smoooove
creeeep,” the driver droned. The rest of the girls cracked up in
giddy laughter. Hope smiled painfully like she was getting a tooth
pulled. The driver was mixed with something. If I had to guess, I
would say Spanish. Her complexion was amber, like she was kissed
by the sun. Her deep green chatoyant eyes were stunning, they
45
L i f e
could hypnotize a man. She had me spellbound. She had long
silky black hair that cascaded down to the middle of her back, like
she had just brushed it and let it flow. She stepped out of the car
wearing a white halter top and tight-fitting blue jeans. Her walk
was provocative, like the purest essence of a woman’s femininity.
The pussy print between her legs was balled up like a fat fist on
both sides. Damn she was wearing them jeans. I bit down on my
knuckle and Hope rolled her eyes at me. The driver never took her
eyes off of me. Not even one second. It felt as if I were being
inspected.
“ Trina, this is L.”
“ Heeeey L, with your fine self,” cooed a girl in the car.
I tried my damnest not to blush and then they all joined in
harmously, “Hi, L.” I was cheesing like a brotha posing for a
toothpaste commercial. Then someone yelled, “look at those cute
dimples.” The whole time Trina was checking me out, my jewelry
and my clothes. There was something uncanny about her. Like she
knew me from somewhere.
“ Damn, ain’t you and Marcus still together?” Trina asked,
slinging the words in Hope’s face.
“ I’m on my way to his house,” Hope retorted, with her lips
twisted to the side accompanied by a tilted neck. I could tell there
was friction in the air. Women have a strange way of communi-
cating. They use body language like chickens that used to have
arms.
“ Trina is my Sorority Sister,” Hope said to me. As if on cue the
girls in the car made a noise, I guess it had something to do with
their sorority. They all erupted in jovial laughter.
“ She’s from the Bronx.”
“ Wuz up Shouty?” I said, giving her a nod like I hardly
noticed she was there. One of the girls said, “Ask him if he has any
friends fine like him.” They all laughed, everybody except Hope
and Trina. I watched as they talked in generic chatter while the
sun beat down on us. I felt a trickle of perspiration cascade down
my spine as I looked at all of the beautiful sistas. It was like I was
46
L i f e
in paradise.
“ What room are you staying in?” Trina asked, completely
catching me off guard.
“ Who, me?” Dumbfounded. I looked at the key in my hand
and answered “A-4.”
“ We’re going to get something to eat, you want to join us?”
Trina asked like it was a challenge. The whole time she just looked
at me.
“ No, I was dropping L off. I gave him a ride from Sarasota
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