Imani
“I’m just now leaving DayLux,” I tell Hazel as I slide into my ride. “Since next week is Thanksgiving, I booked it for the first Friday in December, the fifth. I reserved six tables. She says that’s enough for thirty-six. I hope we have that many but I’ll be cool with about twenty.”
“Oh, it’ll definitely be more than twenty. The word has been spreading and the girls are excited. Hell, Presha’s even trying to get Dodge to buy her a corvette. She wants to ride and join. We need something like this in the city.”
“I hope so because car clubs are a sisterhood and we will be able to do so much. I booked from twelve to three. I think three hours is enough for us to discuss the club and vibe with the ladies. We have to all click or it won’t work,” I tell her.
“We will and we can let everyone know the day and time Saturday at the track.”
“I’m getting excited,” I admit.
“Me too but I have to go. My boss is here at the warehouse. I’ll get at you later.”
“Okay. Talk to you later girl. Bye.”
I end the call with Hazel and beam. It’s really happening. I’m starting my own car club here in my new home. Now, I just need to settle on a name.
Since it’s already twenty after two, I head straight to DJ’s school. I don’t have time to swing back to my place and I rather be early than late and caught up in the line. I’ve heard Daymir complain about it too many times to count.
I make it to Little Einsteins ten minutes before three and they are already about ten cars parked in the line leading to the main entrance of the school. I put my baby in park and wait my place in line.
During the forty minutes of waiting, I toy with a couple of names for the club and end up with a solid list of twelve.
I also jot a few ideas down about our mission, membership guidelines, and a potential logo.
I love what Breezy created with the Hellcat Barbies but I need something unique to my new found sisterhood and this town.
Crescent Falls and Diamond Cove are very different.
At three-thirty, I hear a loud bell. Almost simultaneously, engines start to hum and the school doors open.
A group of adults walks out, each holding a walkie talkie.
Like a well-oiled machine, the line starts moving.
Three vehicles at a time, the adults scan codes, kids are escorted out the doors, and kids are loaded into each car.
I’m the second car in the fourth set of vehicles.
“Your code please,” the impeccably dressed sista says with a smile.
Holding my phone out to her, I say, “Here you go.”
After scanning it, she calls for DJ on her walkie talkie.
Barely two minutes later, DJ is being escorted out by another administrator.
She opens the passenger door and DJ gets in.
She closes the door then the sista on my side waves me forward and I follow the directions out of the school’s parking lot.
“Where’s my daddy?” he asks as he pulls his headphones out of his book bag.
“He had to work and sent me to get you. It’s that okay?” I ask.
“Yes. I love your car. I want one when I get big.”
“An orange hellcat?”
“No, a black one. Imma be a firefighter and by me two of em.”
“Two! Ok Mr. Firefighter! You gone let me drive them?”
With so much amusement in his tone, he says, “Miss Imani, you gonna be too old then; I’ll drive you in it though.”
“How old do you think I’ll be?” I ask, holding in my laughter.
“Old like my Maw Maw. I think she fifty,” he says so seriously. A child’s concept of age has always fascinated me.
“I think she’s a little older than that.”
“I don’t know. She might be,” he says then shrugs the conversation off. He pulls his lunch kit from his bookbag then opens it. After rummaging through it, he asks, “Can we stop to a store? I’m thirsty.”
“I actually need some gas. There’s a station in a few blocks. We can stop and you can get something from there.”
“And some blue Takis?”
“If they have them.”
“Okay.”
I drive the few blocks to the big gas station, C-Mart, then pull up to a pump. Before getting out, I shoot Daymir a text so he’ll know that I have DJ.
Me: I got him.
Daymir: Thanks again, beautiful. I’m gonna be at least another hour. Sorry.
Me: I told you he’s fine. We’ll grab something to eat then go to my class. Take your time. Ily ??
Daymir: Love you too.
“That was my daddy?” DJ asks.
“Yes. I told him that I had you but how did you know I was texting him?” I ask.
“Cause you was smiling,” his little intuitive self says.
“I always smile,” I counter. “But leave your headphones in here. Let’s go.”
I unlock the doors and we both get out. As we walk towards the store, he says, “I can pump your gas for you. My daddy taught me.”
“Ok. You can definitely do that.”
We enter the store and go to the drinks first. As soon as he spots the slushie machine, he rushes to it.
He mixes all three flavors like I used to do as a child.
I fix myself an ice coffee with pecan infused cold brew and a vanilla protein shake.
I’ve barely eaten today and I need something with substance.
We find his Takis next then we head to the cashier so I can pay for our items and my gas.
As we are walking out the door, I spot a blue NISMO pulling into the station.
At first, I shrug it off but when I see it pull in behind my car, too damn close, everything in me heightens and my intuition tells me it’s the nigga I beat at the street race, Mase.
He was on bullshit about a month ago at the track and now he’s here.
Fuck! I don’t have time for this, especially in front of the baby.
“Go get in my car. I’ll pump the gas so you can drink your slushie,” I tell DJ and he runs ahead of me and gets in my car.
I hit my key fob and lock the door as soon as he’s in.
I debate for a second if I should just get in my car and drive off on a quarter tank or if I should pump my gas and ignore Mase.
Obviously, he just wants to rattle me. He didn’t do shit at the track and I highly doubt he’ll gone do shit here, out in the open.
At least four more cars are at the pumps.
Deciding on my second thought, I walk to my car and start pumping my gas.
My eyes never leave his ride as I do. Right when I’m placing the hose back on the pump, the door to the NISMO opens and Mase steps out.
The ominous look on his face causes me to instinctively go to my door, for my gun.
It stays tucked under my seat. However, I remember DJ and hesitate.
“Where’s your bodyguard now, bitch?” he grits but I ignore him. DJ is in the front seat and I don’t want any shit to pop off in front of him or put him in harm’s way. So, I press my key to unlock my door. As I open it, he says, “I hope you can beat me this time.”
His words don’t make any sense so I ignore him and slide in. When I close my door, he steps to it then like a bitch, he spits on my window. DJ is the only thing saving this nigga from my reckless mouth and hands. I just shake my head and start my car. When I do, he steps back.
“Are you okay?” I ask DJ.
“Yes, but why he do that?”
“He’s a mean and nasty man but don’t worry about it. We’re leaving. You want to go with me to my baking class; we’re making cheesecakes tonight. You okay with that?” I tell him trying to sound unbothered and calm but I’m neither of them. I’m pissed off and disgusted.
“Yea, I wanna go,” he says and I look over and see Mase is gone.
So, I look into my rearview and see that he’s back in his ride.
He starts it then revs his engine back-to-back, louder and louder.
He’s on some bullshit for real. So, I buckle my seatbelt and tell DJ to buckle his as well.
Then, I pull out of the gas station. Mase follows and he is right on me, leaving no space between us.
If I slam on my brakes, he’ll crash into me.
I don’t like this shit, at all. This lame ass nigga is on some fuck shit for something that happened months ago at a race.
Everything that happened that night was in reaction to his inappropriate ones.
Daymir knocked his ass out because he decided to act up after losing a race.
He should’ve taken the lost and his fade from Daymir on the chin.
Cornering me at a gas station and following me this damn close is too damn much.
Losing or getting laid out for acting like a fool isn’t this serious.
“You got your iPad?” I ask DJ, preparing for whatever is about to go down.
Mase is still on my tail and he’s actually narrowing the tiny space between us.
In a second, I’m gonna try to pull off from him and lose him, but I don’t want to alarm DJ.
I need him preoccupied on his iPad with headphones canceling out any noise.
“You gone tell my daddy?” he fires back.
“Tell him what?”
“That I took it to school,” he says in a low voice.
“No. I won’t tell. Do you have it?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Then, take it out and put on your headphones,” I encourage, smiling to ease his concern.
DJ pulls his iPad from his backpack, powers it on, then puts on his headphones. As he does, my eyes dart from him to my rearview. Mase is still on my ass. I quickly change lanes and he’s still on me.
Shit! What the hell is he up to?
I look back over at DJ and he’s already caught up on one of the games Daymir allows on his iPad. Good. Now, I can drive like I want without scaring him because I got to get Mase off my ass.
When I see that the right lane is basically clear, without signaling, I grip my steering wheel, dart over into it, and floor it. My engine roars and I take off but so does Mase. His NISMO engine revs and he mimics my move. He’s right on my ass.