18. Pressure Mensah
Drahma Town
W hile ridin’ through the city blowin’ loud, I looked to my right and saw Zaniyah’s pretty ass rappin’ word for word to some shit I ain’t even know she listened to.
I’m talkin’ every bar, adlib, all that. She had her nails clickin’ on her thigh, eyes closed, hittin’ lil’ shoulder rolls like she was in a music video. I had to laugh.
“Nah… you don’t even look like you know that song,” I told her.
She peeked at me, smirkin’. “Boy, I know this whole mixtape. Don’t play with me.”
“A’ight, say less,” I said, turnin’ the volume up.
We pulled up to the club and the line wrapped damn near around the corner.
I don’t do lines, so I walked straight up, duffel on my shoulder, and the bouncers already knew what it was.
I ain’t get no pat down, no ‘what’s in the bag,’ no nothin’.
I could’ve had a bomb in my shit and they would’ve waved me through.
As soon as we hit the inside, the bass was damn near knockin’ my heartbeat off rhythm. Lights was flashin’, and people was movin’ shoulder to shoulder. I spotted a few of my potnas and made my way over, dappin’ them up. Zaniyah was still right there with me, holdin’ my hand.
Then the promoter slid up grinnin’. “Pressure, you already know I got you.”
Next thing I know, we in a corner section with a big leather sectional that wrapped around like a horseshoe. The waitress came quick with a cold bottle of Don Julio, cranberry juice, and ice. I slid her a tip before she could even set the cups down.
Zaniyah ain’t even sit. She climbed up on the sofa in her heels, movin’ with the music like she been waitin’ for this shit all week.
I poured us drinks, handed her one, and she tapped her cup against mine before takin’ a sip.
Her dimples cut deep when she smiled down at me, and I couldn’t help but grin back.
She had this way of makin’ me forget I was supposed to be cool in public.
Kashmere could get me laughin’, Pluto brought me that calm, Toni made me feel looked after…
but Zaniyah? She had me on some playful shit.
We was talkin’ trash back and forth between songs, hittin’ lil’ dances just to clown each other and laughin’ like we was kids.
I couldn’t believe this damn girl had me at the club, dancin’ when that wasn’t even my style. At the same time, I liked it.
At one point she hit some move that didn’t even match the beat, and I shook my head, grabbed her hand, and kissed the back of it. When I told her she was dancin’ like one of them chicks off GTA, she laughed loud, throwin’ her head back, and I swear it made me laugh harder.
We stayed for a minute, runnin’ through shots, lettin’ the DJ take us wherever he wanted.
Then we slid to another spot across town.
Soon as we walked in, I ran into a few old faces.
There was more daps, and more love. Me and Zaniyah didn’t stay long, but just enough to hit a couple dances and finish another drink before I was ready for the next move.
Our last stop was one of my favorite strip clubs. The whole place smelled like money and coconut oil soon as we walked in. I barely got in the door before one of the dancers spotted me and came over all smiles.
“Where you been hidin’, Pressure?” she said, givin’ me a hug.
“On my billionaire grind,” I told her. “Don’t tell nobody though.”
She laughed, then yelled for the waitress to bring me a bottle on ice.
I dropped the duffel bag on the couch, unzipped it, and pulled out a fat stack. I peeled off a few hundreds and handed it to Zaniyah.
She looked at it with her eyes wide. “For me?”
“Nah, for us,” I said, leanin’ back like it wasn’t nothin’.
She went right to throwin’ like she been practicin’.
She was hypin’ the dancers, leanin’ over to talk in my ear and pullin’ me up to move with her.
I was tryna act like I wasn’t pressed, but she had me smilin’ the whole time.
At one point she laughed so hard she almost dropped the rest of her stack, and I had to catch her wrist.
“Aye, don’t play with my money like that,” I told her.
“It’s our money. Remember?” she shot back, throwin’ another handful in the air.
We sat in the strip club watchin’ the bills float down slow, music still hittin’ in the background, and I realized I wasn’t ready to call it a night yet. Zaniyah wasn’t though, so we stayed a little longer, tossed the last of her stack, and I grabbed my bag.
When we stepped out, the air felt good after bein’ inside all that heat and smoke. She had her heels clickin’ on the pavement, still grinnin’ like the night was just gettin’ started.
“You hungry?” I asked, walkin’ toward the car.
“Starvin’,” she said without even thinkin’. “You know I ain’t ate since earlier. And please, no fancy stuff. I’m talkin’ greasy.”
I laughed. “Say less.”
We slid into the car, and I pulled off toward one of those 24-hour spots I been hittin’ since forever. The drive-thru line was wrapped around the buildin’, but that didn’t bother me. I leaned back, rollin’ up another one.
“You got any sisters or brothers?” I asked.
“So,” she said, turnin’ to me. “You wanna know what’s crazy?”
“What’s that?”
“I’m adopted.”
I paused mid-roll, my eyes flickin’ over to her. “For real?”
“Yeah. Since I was three.” She shifted in her seat like she was deciding if she should even tell me this shit, but then it started pourin’ out.
“My birth parents… let’s just say they weren’t in a position to take care of me.
My mom was young and in a bad situation, my dad was in and out of trouble.
The state stepped in, and I ended up with the Harrisons, an amazing, loving black family.
I sparked up, listenin’.
“They’re amazing people,” she went on. “Middle class, big on education. They never made me feel like I was… less theirs because of how I came to them. They gave me everything I needed to be successful. But it wasn’t perfect, you know?
Growing up in a neighborhood and going to school where I was the only adopted kid in my school…
I had to prove myself constantly. People had these assumptions about me before I even opened my mouth. ”
“And you proved ‘em wrong, right?” I asked.
She laughed, soft but proud. “Every single time. Straight A’s. Debate team. Captain of the track team. I got a full ride to college. I could’ve gone anywhere, but I stayed close to home because I wanted to give back to the community I grew up in.”
I nodded, ‘cause that shit was very impressive. “That’s why you teach?”
“Yeah,” she said, smilin’ wider now. “Third grade. My kids are everything to me. Some of them come from rough backgrounds, and I make sure they know they’re capable of more than people expect. I push ‘em but I love on ‘em too. I want to be the person for them that I needed when I was their age.”
For a minute, I just watched her talk. The way her eyes lit up when she spoke about her students… it made me like her even more.
Most women I came across bragged about trips, bags, cars—stuff they could show off on the ‘Gram’.
Zaniyah was out here braggin’ about changin’ lives.
That shit hit different. She had that bubbly, cute personality that made you wanna keep her smilin’, but underneath all that was a backbone strong as hell.
“You solid,” I told her finally. “Not too many like you left.”
She laughed, shakin’ her head. “I’m just doing what I’m supposed to.”
“Nah,” I said, takin’ a slow pull from the blunt. “You doin’ more than most.”
We finally made it to the speaker, and I ordered us way too much food—two cheeseburgers, fries, nuggets, extra sauces, and a couple apple pies just because. She was lookin’ at me like I was crazy.
“You know we’re not finishing all that, right?” she said.
“Bet me,” I told her.
When we got the bags, that hot fry smell filled the car. I pulled over in the parking lot, killed the engine, and we just sat there with the seats leaned back, eatin’ outta the paper bags. She was talkin’ with fries in her hand, tellin’ me about her life while I gave her pieces of mine.
We kept talkin’ about music, dumb shit we did as kids and who we still keep in touch with. She had stories for days, and I realized I didn’t mind just sittin’ there listenin’ to her.
When we finally pulled off toward the mansion, the food was gone, the smoke was gone, and the conversation was still rollin’. By the time we walked in the front doors, it was damn near mornin’ but we was still laughin’ like we just left the first spot. She stopped in the foyer and turned to me.
“Pressure, I had an amazing time tonight. We should go out more often.”
“Fasho,” I told her, takin’ her hand again and kissin’ the back of it.
I watched her head down the hall, then went to my room. Soon as I sat on the bed, I grabbed my phone out my pocket and saw Ka’mari’s text sittin’ at the top: You up?
I locked the screen without even openin’ it. After a night like that with Zaniyah, she was the furthest thing from my mind.
Trill-Land, Jungle Estate
Another day had passed, and I was sittin’ in my office with Renza, Kay’Lo, and Blaqson, tryna figure out who I was gon’ send home today. Renza was leaned back in the chair across from me with his feet kicked out like he owned my shit, a smirk on his face.
“Boy, you been busy as hell with these women,” he said, pointin’ at me like I didn’t already know. “I ain’t think you was gon’ ever loosen up and start likin’ some of ‘em. Now look at you. Nigga you got some pep in ya step now.”
I just shook my head, smilin’ to myself even though I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction. Truth was, yeah, I’d been spendin’ more time with a few of them, but that didn’t mean I was lettin’ my guard down to every single one of ‘em.
While Renza was still talkin’ his shit, my mind drifted and I let out a breath. “Ka’mari been callin’ me,” I said finally.
All three of them looked over at me.
Kay’Lo raised his brows. “You serious?”