CHAPTER 30
Keisha danced her way across Cameron’s living room, grooving along to “Rebirth of Slick” by Digable Planets.
She had requested the song personally from the DJ, needing to feel “cool like dat.” Which she really did as she winked at Silvia, who blushed before focusing on the stacks of tapes and CDs she had brought to the party.
Keisha kept watching her as she headed to the front door, shimmying backward to do so, which paid off when Silvia glanced up again and laughed.
The night was filled with potential. Keisha could feel it in the air when she poked her head outside, and yet, the cluster of cars hadn’t changed.
Hope still wasn’t here, but as long as she showed up…
Keisha was in the mood. To say the least. Body, heart, and soul—all of her was hungry for more. She needed a cold shower. Ask and ye shall receive. When she turned around, Diego was standing in the entryway, jerking his head while winking.
“You got somethin’ in your eye?” Keisha asked. “Or is that part of the tic you seemed to have developed?”
“I’m being subtle,” Diego growled.
“You’re drunk,” Keisha replied.
“That too. Come over here real quick.” He led the way to a darkened dining room. “It’s about that time of year,” he whispered enigmatically.
Keisha flipped the lights on. “What now?”
Diego winced against the brightness. “You’re usually the cautious one, but fine, have it your way. We’ve gotta plant a new crop.”
Oh. That. He usually helped her sow cannabis in early May, which was right around the corner. “What if we skip this year? We’ve already had a couple of close calls.”
“You don’t need the money?” Diego asked. “Because I sure as hell do.”
“You’re a mechanic,” she replied. “That has to pay better.”
“I don’t do that sort of thing anymore.”
She shook her head in confusion. “Why not? You couldn’t have gotten fired. Your family owns the place.”
“I quit,” Diego spat.
She narrowed her eyes in an effort to understand before giving up and shrugging. He’d been off the rails recently, which made her less inclined to continue their illicit trade. The last thing she needed was an unpredictable salesman. Keisha shook her head. “We shouldn’t push our luck.”
Diego’s face twisted up. “What about our personal supply? Have you got a dealer?”
“No,” she admitted. “Do you?”
“Why would I? I am the dealer!”
Keisha glanced over her shoulder self-consciously. Then she turned off the lights again, preferring the darkness after all, and lowered her voice. “We’ll just have to find someone willing to sell to us. Let them take the risk.”
“And our money?”
“We could ration for as long as possible. How much do you have left?”
Diego turned his head away.
“How much have you been smoking?” Keisha demanded, suddenly concerned.
“I’ve been selling again,” he answered cagily.
The doorbell rang.
“We had a good run,” she said with finality.
“Seriously?”
“I’ve gotta get that.” Keisha left him standing in the dark, the conversation soon forgotten when she threw open the front door to discover her heart’s desire.
“Hey,” Hope said, peering past her worriedly.
“Come on in,” she said. “You’re welcome here.”
This was, admittedly, an experiment. Hope had never mingled with Keisha’s friends before, but this was an important step.
Not only for their relationship, but for Hope’s well-being.
Her own friends were homophobes. Most of the people here were queer, or at least allies.
Once Hope integrated, surely she wouldn’t want to spend as much time with the questionable company she kept.
Her new social circle would support her, instead of forcing her into hiding.
Keisha took her hand as they entered the living room together. “Look who’s here, everyone!”
Anthony grimaced and snuggled up closer to Cameron on the couch. Diego was sulking in the corner while Ricky tried to figure out why.
“Hey, girl!” Whitney said as she twirled to the music.
“How’s it going?” David added while caught in her orbit.
That was a little better.
“Just let me know if you have any requests,” Silvia offered as they passed her on the way to the kitchen.
Omar was standing at the counter, pouring a drink. “Oh hey!” he said when noticing them. “I feel like I’m in dance class all the sudden.”
He launched into the choreography they’d been working on. Keisha let go to match his movements. After a little encouragement, Hope finally relaxed and did the same. They ended simultaneously, all of them laughing.
“We’ve got beer,” Omar offered. “And we’ve got weed. What’ll it be?”
“A drink would be nice,” Hope replied.
“Comin’ right up.”
They heard a toilet flush. Galen appeared soon after, stopping to stare. Then he hastily brushed himself off before grinning. “Good evening, ladies!”
“You’re barking up the wrong tree, my man,” Omar said warmly. He handed Hope her drink. “You’ll have to forgive him,” he stage-whispered. “Galen is straight, but we try not to judge.”
“And you’re not?” Keisha challenged.
“Hopelessly,” Omar replied. “That’s what makes me so sympathetic to his plight.”
Hope laughed.
A thrashing riff began playing in the living room.
“Dude!” Omar declared. “I love this song!”
He bounded in that direction. They followed and saw Diego banging his head. Omar crashed into him intentionally while thrashing his hair back and forth.
“No slam-dancing!” Cameron shouted over the noise.
Which took some effort. The music wasn’t Keisha’s style at all, although the subject matter was relatable, because all she wanted was just one fix.
“That was Ministry,” Silvia said when the song came to an end. “Now we’re going to put on something slower, so our host doesn’t have a heart attack. And so I can dance with my boyfriend.”
“Aww, babe!” Omar said, opening his arms to her.
Anthony stood and pulled on Cameron’s hands, his boyfriend shaking his head adamantly. David was already wrapped in Whitney’s arms. They were so weird.
Silvia had good taste. K.D. Lang’s “Constant Craving” resonated with everything Keisha felt inside, but tonight, her appetite would finally be satiated. “Care to dance?” she asked.
Hope considered the scene.
Diego had swept up his boyfriend, cradling him like a baby while rocking him back and forth, Ricky giggling nonstop.
Hope’s eyes shone in response. “Actually,” she said, “can we go somewhere and talk?”
The words were unexpected from someone so reserved.
Keisha was eager to connect with her. Especially after the previous month.
The disastrous encounter with Faith had challenged their relationship, just like Keisha knew it would.
Hope had slowly withdrawn, understandably, but hadn’t yet cracked under pressure.
That’s why Keisha wanted her to experience the world she inhabited.
Gay, straight, and everything in between was embraced here.
Keisha stood and approached Cameron, who was still being goaded by Anthony.
“How are we going to prom if you can’t dance in your own home?” he whined.
“I’m shy!”
“Since when?”
They noticed they had an audience.
Anthony became a lot more reserved. “Hey.”
“Hi,” Hope responded.
“Could we use your room?” Keisha asked.
Cameron blinked. “For what?”
“Not what you’re thinkin’!” she replied.
Cameron laughed. “Upstairs. Take your pick.”
Keisha thanked him. Hope followed her, a playful mood striking them as they opened each door to consider their options.
One bedroom was tidy and filled with antiques.
Cameron’s most likely, judging from the lingering scent of cologne.
They found a home office that looked as though it had been ransacked, a bathroom, and a master bedroom that was farthest from the action.
“In here?” Keisha asked.
Hope nodded.
Keisha shut the door behind them. Then she sauntered over seductively. “You know,” she drawled, “maybe Cameron had the right idea after all.”
Hope bit her bottom lip. Then she released it to say, “I came out.”
Keisha stopped in her tracks. “To who?”
“My sister.”
“She already knew.”
“And our parents.”
Keisha was gob-smacked. She sat on the edge of the bed, Hope joining her. “How’d that go?”
“They said that I’m being silly, that I was failing them as a daughter, that I should try to be more like my sister…” She rolled her eyes. “I don’t care though. I’m done pretending. They keep introducing me to boys at church who have been told, in advance, that I’ll go to prom with them.”
“No!”
“Yes! It’s so embarrassing. I won’t do it.”
“You should go to prom,” Keisha said, leaning toward her, “with the right person.”
Hope shook her head. “We already decided not to.”
Keisha pulled back. “What do you mean?”
Hope pressed her lips together, releasing them again to drop a bombshell. “I’ve been talking to Abigail again.”
“The cheerleader you used to be involved with?”
“Yeah. Now that my sister isn’t in the way anymore…”
“In the way of what exactly?”
Hope reached over and took her hand. “I owe you so much.”
“Starting with an explanation,” Keisha said, pulling away. “What exactly have you and Abigail been talking about?”
“I love her,” Hope said.
Her tones were apologetic, but they cut deep regardless, because Keisha had been longing to hear those words—had come close on more than one occasion to speaking them herself.
“And now you’re back together?”
Hope nodded. “We wouldn’t be, if not for you. You’ve taught me so much. You gave me courage!”
“Yeah, well, I’m real happy that I could make all your dreams come true,” Keisha said bitterly, “but what about mine? Huh? Did you think this didn’t mean anything to me? Because it obviously didn’t mean much to you!”
“That isn’t true!” Hope said. “I just…”
“Love her more?” Keisha asked. To have been loved at all would at least bring some comfort. She could warm her frozen hands on the tiny ember, but even that consolation prize was denied.
“I never got over her,” Hope said lamely.
“Great. Fantastic.” Keisha launched to her feet and paced the length of the room before reaching a decision.
“Now it’s my turn to get over you, and I sure as hell intend to be a lot more successful.
” She grabbed the drink that Hope had brought up with her and finished it off.
“You’re welcome to stay, but I’m sure even you can understand why I don’t prefer your company at the moment. ”
She tromped downstairs, knowing that Hope would leave.
These weren’t her friends. Lord only knew where she would fit in now, because Troy and his ilk weren’t going to miraculously become accepting overnight.
Maybe none of that mattered to Hope when she had Abigail back.
All it took was one person to stave off the loneliness.
The world was so much easier to face with someone at your side.
Keisha would give just about anything for that.
Why else would she keep putting her self-esteem on the line like this?
She waited in the darkness of the dining room, not ready to face the others.
Keisha watched Hope descend the stairs, glance around as if searching for her, and leave through the front door.
Good riddance. Anger welled up. She felt used.
Like a stepping stone, Hope’s shoes leaving a muddy mess on her heart.
Keisha wished she could rip it from her chest so she wouldn’t have to feel anything for her anymore. If only!
She needed another drink. Keisha avoided making eye contact as she marched through the living room. She felt lesser somehow—diminished—and worried the others would notice. Keisha retreated to the kitchen, where Diego was refilling his cup from the keg.
“Next week,” she said when joining him. “That’s when we plant our crop.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Why the change of tune?”
Because getting through the summer while single would be painful enough. Especially when having to imagine how happy Hope was, how happy everyone seemed to be, in their neat little pairs.
“Like you said,” she replied, “why pay someone for what we can profit from? Just don’t blow through our entire stock in celebration. The stuff doesn’t grow overnight.”
“You’ve got it.” Diego filled a cup for her and raised his in a toast. “Pleasure doing business with you.”
She chugged the entire beer.
Diego stared as she did so and shook his head in wonder. “You’re the coolest chick I’ve ever met, you know that?”
She snorted. “If you were my type, life would be a lot easier.”
Diego studied her. “Where’d your pretty little girlfriend go?”
“Straight into my rear-view mirror,” Keisha replied, “where she’s welcome to remain.”
“Stone cold,” he said in approval before tilting his head toward the living room. “Come hang.”
“I’ll catch up with you.”
“Cool.”
Once alone, Keisha sighed and refilled her drink.
She noticed a door leading to the backyard and stepped outside, needing to clear her head.
Aside from the muted rumble of music, the neighborhood was quiet, the silence demonstrating how lonely her nights would be from now on—how empty they often were, even when Hope was still in the picture, because she’d been like a fish that Keisha had constantly struggled to reel in.
Why was it so hard? Not just with her, but everyone.
Was it the color of her skin? The shape of her body? The sound of her voice?
The door creaked open behind her.
“Hey,” Silvia said softly. “Are you okay?”
“I don’t know.” Keisha spun around and asked the question that was nipping at her heels. “Is there something wrong with me?”
“What?” Silvia asked, coming closer.
“Be honest,” Keisha said. “I could’ve asked Hope before she left me, but as it turns out, I never should have trusted her. I know I can trust you, so just tell me, because if it’s something I can change, I will. Why do I always end up alone?”
“You’re not alone,” Silvia said, pulling her close. “Are you kidding me? Everyone here loves you. Especially me.”
“Just not in the way that I want.”
“In the only way I can, while dating someone else. But I think about you.” Silvia’s arms tightened around her. “Way more than I should.”
Keisha pulled back to search her eyes, wanting to know if these were platitudes designed to make her feel better in a moment of vulnerability, but she saw something there. A hint of a promise.
“You’re loved,” Silvia insisted. “By the people who matter most.”
“You sure I shouldn’t try growing out my hair?”
Silvia laughed. “You aren’t the problem. The Song sisters are. I know you liked Hope, but her sister is a monster, and they’re twins. Even if they aren’t exactly alike, it was only a matter of time before she murdered you in your sleep.”
“You’re probably right,” Keisha said. “I didn’t just like her though.” Her chin began to tremble. “I loved her.”
“I know,” Silvia said, squeezing her tight. “I’m so sorry.”
She didn’t let go. Not until Keisha had wept enough to take the edge off her sorrow.