Chapter 1

Chapter 1

I don't know what I’m doing here. Every time I say I won't accept anymore invitations I always seem to find myself sitting on a couch wondering how I got there. My girls and I usually go just to observe everyone else, and to have something to talk about the next day. But strangely enough I was here alone, with not one of my girls to giggle and gossip with. The entire house was almost pitch black. If it wasn't for the faint light coming from the DJ equipment I wouldn't be able to see my hand in front of my face. Every now and then I could feel a quick draft from the door opening and a gust of wind tickling my legs. The room was getting packed and I wish I was back in my dorm room watching a movie, and eating pizza.

The main event took place in the basement, where couches were covered with grinding bodies, and sweet laden woman lap dancing. The walls were even beginning to sweat and I could feel the drip forming on my brow. So much for my makeup.

It was an obstacle trying to get through the labyrinth of people and make my way to the kitchen. Somehow I made it. The pungency of body odor and warm spilled liquor in the carpet combined and made my stomach flip, and made me swallow hard. A girl sat on the counter top being “macked” to by a senior ball player. Her legs practically gapping open in her black mini skirt, letting him know she's interested. These dance parties usually turned into a mating frenzy like salmon during their last chance to spawn.

The mood in the house is strange. Everyone is on a high like hippies in the 1960's. The volume of the music makes it hard to even think, let alone have ration and logic. I guess I should relax and try to have a good time.

“What's up ma?” said Edgar. I didn’t even see him approach me. He was good friend of mine who I met my freshman year in college. He was a great looking guy with a body of a God. He played basketball like no one I've ever met in person. He always had a way of making me blush when he went out of his way to say hello. We never had any intimate moments, but we always liked making little flirtatious jokes with one another.

“Hey Ed, what's good. You enjoying yourself?”

“Yeah Jackie this party is live. Where's your girl Melinda? You know this party ain't a party without her. I still remember the time when she danced on that coffee table at Maya's house warming party. Boy was she pissed when the leg just broke from right under the thing.” Ed said taking another sip of his bottle.

I wish Melinda was here. She was my best friend and always the life of every party. I didn't matter if it was a bar mitzvah or a baby shower. Where ever she was it turned into the Melinda show. That's why I loved her. We balanced each other out. I could never be that outgoing and fearless.

“Want one?” Ed gestured his Corona in my direction.

I was never much of a liquor drinker, and I know I shouldn't be drinking liquor at this party by myself. It would be different if I had one of my girls here so we could keep an eye on each other. Ed could read my discomfort with his question.

“Um...? I contemplated

“Nah it's cool. Don't even sweat it Jackie, I didn't want to be impolite and not offer you something to drink. We have water, juice, and soda in the refrigerator. Can I get you anything else?

I really wanted to keep a level head tonight, but something kept telling me to live a little and have some fun tonight. Ed just stared at me while I ping ponged the idea of what I should do. Battling with decisions in crunch time always left me making the wrong choice. If I don't have enough time for good judgment and reason to set in, I usually flunk the test.

“You know what Ed, mix me up something special” I tried to deliver my line cool as a cucumber.

A cheesy grin spread across Edgar's face. He must have seen right through my “too cool” act. I watched him as he made his way to a make shift bartending station, with lemon wedges in one red plastic cup, and limes in another. I had no clue what he was doing over there, but I made sure I watched him closely. Little bit of this, and a little bit of that, mixed with some juice and my cocktail was ready. He handed it to me and I peered down into the mixture like it was poison.

“Let me know if it's too strong”

I took a sip of the concoction and could feel my organs melting away from the inside out. He was watching me so closely while I sipped, I could just smirk an uncomfortably smirk and sip again. It tasted like tropical nail polish remover, with a twist of lemon. But I kept drinking it, until I saw the bottom of the cup. I couldn't take another one of Ed's citrus cyanides, so I quickly decline Ed's offer of a refill. I decided Smirnoff was a better choice. That tasted like sprite to me. My buzz increased after the third bottle so I thought it best to calm down with my liquor intake.

The loud thump of the music pulled my limbs in rhythmic directions like a marionette doll. I chose to seclude myself from the crowd and found my own corner to dance in. I liked it better there. No one was staring at me, or accidentally rubbing on inappropriate parts of my body. I was really dancing like no one was watching. My hips swayed like the ocean and it made me feel sexy. I didn't need anyone to tell me I was, because I knew it.

It had to be 2am, and my little piece of the room was no longer private. As more people drifted in, my space was getting tighter and tighter. Just when I was really getting a workout, these people had to ruin it for me. I was used to dancing alone, because big girls like me don't usually get that much love on the dance floor. But every now and then a brave man who thinks he can handle it attempts to break me off.

That's when I saw Mr. Brave.

He came into my vision wearing a green and yellow button up shirt, black dickies, and a pair of the freshest black timberland boots I've ever seen. He was alright looking, but what caught my eye was the Jamaican flag hanging out of his pocket. If he's Jamaican that means he must be able to dance. A white towel he used to wipe his glistening brow hung off of his shoulder. As he made his way through the crowd I knew he was coming to dance with me. I just kept my rhythm and avoided eye contact.

His almond skin glowed as small beads of sweat clustered on his forehead. I had a real weakness for tall men. I'm 5'9” and it's always been a struggle finding a man tall enough for me, luckily Mr. Brave was just right. I would guess he was at least 6'3” with a football player’s frame, and the sexiest walk I’ve ever seen. And just like he was walking on a cloud he drifted right to me. As much as I tried to ignore him, his presence was as strong as his Curve cologne. He stepped in front of me and his aroma intoxicated me all over again. At that moment, the strength in my knees floated through the vents.

He didn't ask, and I didn’t look up. We just synchronized our movements to the reggae rhythm like it was second nature. I could have dance all night with Mr. Brave and Wayne Wonder on the stereo. He wasn’t vulgar, or trying to bend me over to the floor. He was sweet as sugar.

I tried to take a glance back at him and see his face in its entire splendor, but I couldn’t do it without looking over eager. I twist my head quickly back to the front.

“You alright Ma?” His deep voice dripped like warm molasses. My knees almost gave out from under me, but his strong hands were holding me up.

I nodded yes, to let him know I was more than alright.

“Ladies and gentlemen” the DJ announced over the microphone. “We ‘bout to slow things down a little bit, and play some old jams. So grab that special someone and hit the dance floor.”

The announcement made me nervous like I was in a thong bikini contest. I only had one choice. I had to turn around and finally stare my Mr. Brave in his eyes. I mustered enough courage and did a smooth about-face to witness the prize I was about to claim. But instead of almond skin and a perfect smile, I saw his wide back and the Yankees emblem on his backwards cap. As I turned to face Mr. Brave, he turned to notice a different half naked girl who quickly wrapped her manicured hands around his neck.

To my horror I was in the center of a slow grinding coupled cluster. I was the only solo girl on the floor. Sigh…great just my luck.

“Excuse me. Oh sorry. Excuse me” I thought skinny thoughts as I tried to make a dignified exit. But everyone who saw me knew that I was leaving the dance floor because I didn’t have a special someone.

It was true. I didn’t.