Welcome to Scribd, the world's digital library. Read, publish, and share books and documents. See more
Download
Standard view
Full view
of .
Save to My Library
Look up keyword
Like this
1Activity
0 of .
Results for:
No results containing your search query
P. 1
Chapter One

Chapter One

Ratings: (0)|Views: 211|Likes:
Published by Lashaon Brooks

More info:

Published by: Lashaon Brooks on Sep 28, 2010
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial

Availability:

Read on Scribd mobile: iPhone, iPad and Android.
download as DOCX, PDF, TXT or read online from Scribd
See more
See less

09/28/2010

pdf

text

original

 
Chapter One
 
S
tilettos strapped up my calves made my legs look like
whoa.
My navelwas only visible with certain movements, and my dark blue skinnies were fitting just right - doing the guys in the club no justice. I was fresh out of a failedrelationship with a punk named Sanchez so I was free to flaunt what I wasblessed with. I had it all on display with abeige, brown and blue, spaghetti-strapped top baring most of my caramel back. My hair was amber at the timewith honey blonde highlights. It was pulled up with a few tresses touching myface and shoulders. Club H2O hadn·t seen the best of me; but they were about to.´Uh-huh, whoa, shorty! Uh-huh, whoa, boo!µ The DJ·s chant echoedthroughout the club as the bass pulsed through the crowd. His booth sat to thefar right on the huge black stage in the back of the club. It had four largeturntable stands with blue glass tanks filled with fizzing water lighting up thefour sides of it. Drinks and hands in the air, everybody bounced back and forthas the multi colored LEDs shifted with the beat. All the guys barked at the prettyyoung thing that had just stepped offstage after competing for the ´Shake itRight Contest.µ She was number three on the list. I was up next.
Best for last,
Ithought to myself as DJ Juan continued his chant along with the dudes in thecrowd. Most females hated you afterbecause they·d lost their dates for the threeminutes you were on stage. Only a few would reluctantly cheer, letting youknow you did your thing. The Grand prize for this contest was free drinks, VIPfor life, and a spot in Antonio Donavan·s video for his new single. I didn·t knowwho he was, but Anjie did. She said he was fine, but I wasn·t trying to benobody·s video chick. I just liked doing my thing for the crowd·s enjoyment.
 And
I was hoping there were fewer scrubs in VIP.With adrenaline pouring throughmy veins, I stepped up to the center of the stage and gave it all I had. Nobodybesides me and Anj knew that I was only 17. My body had them all fooled. I wasgyrating left and right, keeping up with the pulsating beat that the DJ selectedfor me. I won two other contests on the same stage, which made me thedefending queen. I felt the music all through me as I took it down to the groundand came back up.
No sweat.
 ´Oh!µ The crowd yelled and continued until the song played out.Moments later, I was throwing my hands above my head, smiling at mybest friend, Anj as the crowd cheered the loudest for me. It was no sweat.´Yeah, yeah! You did your thing, girl!µ Anjie shouted. She widened hereyes at the other girls who were stepping down off of the stage after the
 
unanimous vote. ´
hat
is the hottie right there!µ She told them pointing to me onstage as they walked away mean-mugging her.The DJ spun a reggae beat and Antonio Donavan stepped onto the stage.´Gal, you know just what to do to mek· me feel fine!µ he shouted. He wore anorange, brown, and white jersey with some brown jeans. He was pushing itthough.His big belt buckle clanged against a weed-leaf-shaped pendant thatdangled from his platinum chain.His dreads were straight.
He would look good if he shaved that nappy beard
. The ladies in the crowd went wild. He came dancingcloser to me with acrown in hand. He reeked of alcohol.DJ Juan scratched the record and spun it again. ´Ladies and Gentleman,Antonio Donovan!!µ
´
Hol· on, Hol· on, mahn,µ Antonio said. ´Miami has the finest womenworl·wide!µ he shouted at the crowd·s approval. I felt his little seductive vibe ashe stepped closer to me with a grin, and placed the crown on my head. ´Mek wego da-hnce, mek we go dance!µ he sang, circling me with bedroom eyes. I dancedalong with him as the ladies in the crowd screamed his name. Every beat drewhim closer, and his tendency to touch what
was not his
made me glad that DJ Juandidn·t play the whole song.´Don·t go too far, you hear, gal?µ Antonio said watching me as I exitedstage right.´He is so fine!µ Anjie went on about Antonio as we stepped into the VIPsection of the club. ´He was all over you!µI made a face. ´He·s alright.µ´Dang, he was all over you!µ she repeated flipping her long, dark, wavyhair as she eyed a well-dressed guy walking by. She turned her attention back tome. ´You should give him your number.µ´Ooh, you think so?µ I joked then waved a hand. ´Girl, by the way he waslooking at me, I know he only wants one thing. And I·m no groupie. I don·t evenown a reggae CD.µShe shook her head. ´I would give him my number and
at least
let himtake me out a few times.µ´That·s the difference between me and you Anj,µ I laughed. ´
I·ve
got
scruples
. I·m not interested in no playboy reggae singer.µShe sucked her teeth. ´Adios Mio,µ she muttered. She sounded moreghetto than Puerto Rican.
 
´Girl, if I hooked up with him, he·d make me miserable while I·d spendall of his money.µBeach strip witnessing, Sunday school, caroling in old folks homes,camping out in the boonies to get closer to God ² you name it - I·ve done it.Makes you wonder what I was doing on the VIP lists of three South Beach clubsand one in Cancun. I was born and raised in the church. In ninth grade, I was onthe young women·s dance team. In tenth, I joined the praise and worship team. Iworked in every ministry you can think of; but there was a beat pulsing throughmy system that didn·t quite fit the chorus of ´Have You Tried Jesus.µ Once I wasa junior, I was feeling the need to express what was really going on inside of me.Daddy wasn·t having it. The first time he saw my style of dancing, he flipped out² which brings me to the ten things I hate about me:
I·m a preacher·s kid.
 Back when we were still in middle school, my little sister, Deyannaand Iwere practicing a dance step for a youth talent show in my room when Daddywalked in.´What in the world was that?µ he asked. He was standing by my bedroomdoor with his bushy eyebrows furrowed and his reading glasses in hand. ´Howwould it look for the Pastor·s daughters to be dancing like that? You need tokeep it holy young lady,µ He said looking at me.´What?µ I asked him. ´We didn·t do anything bad.µHe walked further into my room and snatchedour practiceCD out of theplayer. ´What music is this? Who is Breeyon Isaacs?µ´It·s Breyan Isaac, Daddy. It·s gospel,µ I answered.´Rap?µ´Uh, yeah.µDee was quiet.´Rap ain·t gospel,µ said Daddy.´Yes it is, Daddy. Just listen to it.µ´
Rapain·t
gospel,µ he said again his bright skin turning red. ´And neitheris that gyratin· you·re doing.µ´What? I·m not
 gy-rat-in·

You're Reading a Free Preview

Download
/*********** DO NOT ALTER ANYTHING BELOW THIS LINE ! ************/ var s_code=s.t();if(s_code)document.write(s_code)//-->