Page 24 of Kassir and Rebel
“I’m just taking a bite so that’s cool.”
As she turns on 8thStreet, I place the call to Pancake House and order her sandwich and two iced caramel coffees. When she pulls up to the unassuming, small diner, I jump out to grab our items. When I get back into her ride, we journey on to her townhome.
Since the Brunswick Meadows neighborhood is only about fifteen miles from the restaurant, it doesn’t take us long to get to Teaira’s. She parks in her usual spot out front and we grab all of our stuff and go in. The good ass smell of her damn waffle sandwich calls my name when she opens the container, so I walk into the kitchen. It looks as good as it smells too.
“You see how big this is,” she says while she cuts along the four triangles. The two large waffles with grilled steak and onions, eggs, and cheese piled in between them fills the entire container.
“It looks so good,” I admit and I swear my stomach growls on cue, causing us both to laugh.
“Girl, take this piece. I can’t eat all of this.”
She grabs one of the foam plates from the stack on the edge of her island then places the cut piece on it. She passes it over to me then grabs a syrup and plasticware from the bag. When she hands those items to me, I sit my happy ass at the counter and tear my piece up, all of it. She kills two of the triangle pieces then places the last piece in the fridge. We part ways, her going upstairs and me staying downstairs in the guest room.
About an hour later, we are both dressed and going over final touches upstairs in her bedroom. I just journeyed up here to hurry her up. She’s standing in front of her full-length mirror, trying to twist her long boho braids around her high bun. My own hair is pulled up into a pony with hair left out in front to frame my face. I love my blonde highlights and want them popping today with my favorite large gold hoops.
“You got me wanting to change,” she says while still looking into her mirror.
“Why? That’s cute,” I compliment. Her denim shorts romper with spaghetti straps looks too cute on her. “That juicy booty is popping.”
“Bitch! Not juicy. I can’t with you. It’s cute but it’s not sexy like yours. This set eats.”
“I just don’t know about these shoes. I’m a kicks girl. Nikes are my best friend,” I admit.
My outfit choice for today was made in Miami. The goal was to show my ass to make Kassir jealous. When a girl returns home, she has to put on and make sure her ex sees exactly what he fumbled. This cream two-piece set was chosen specifically for that purpose. The halter top is cropped and the shorts are high-waisted and cut right beneath my ass. It’s made out of soft, stretchy material. It’s called Just-A-Glimpse but it’s giving more than a glimpse. There are a million cutouts on both pieces. I’m wearing nude underwear to keep my private area just that, private, but the illusion gives naked.
“Girl, wear those cute-ass tie up sandals. Your damn track shoes aren’t it today. It’s the block party. The whole damn D-Ville will be out and Kassir’s girl has to stunt on these hoes.”
“I’m just Rebel.”
“Not in D-Ville you aren’t.” She smirks, then turns around. “Are you sure this is fine?” she asks while tugging at the bottom of the romper.
“Yes, and stop pulling. Let that ass pop out,” I tease before slapping her hip. After tying up my right sandal, I stand beside her and we both turn back to the mirror.
“Cute!” we say in unison, then laugh.
“Let’s go break some damn hearts,” she says.
“Please, Makai is going to be stalking this ass all day.”
“Lil boy might get his feelings hurt. It’s the block party. Who knows, I might find me a real YN.”
“You can’t handle a YN,” I tell her as we venture out of her room and down the stairs.
Because alcohol is definitely available at the block party and parking can be a beast, we opt for an iDrive and are dropped off in less than twenty minutes. Before we are out of the car, I hear the music. DP’s own, rapper Krist’s song “Bangas” is bumping on the speakers. Instantly, I smile. It’s been so long since I’ve been to a block party and I didn’t realize how much I’ve missed it: the food, the people, and the fun. In one day, all in one spot, I’ll be able to see all the people in the community that became my found family.
“It’s thick as hell,” Teaira says as we walk around the yellow gate serving as the temporary barricade at the end of the street.
“Yes, and it’s not even eleven. They came out early.”
“I know one thing. It’s hot though. My damn titties are sweating,” she scoffs. “First things first, I need a drink. Let’s find Emma. She should be out here selling her good ass drinks.”
Anything you want, you can find in D-Ville. Everybody has a hustle and Emma is just one of many entrepreneurs thriving. She’s a self-made bartender who sells frozen cups and drinks right out of her apartment on the fourth floor. Although nothing about her operation is legal, she would not sell me an alcoholic drink until I was twenty-one though.
“Emma, then Fire Peaux Boyz,” I say.
“Aren’t you full from the waffle?”
“Mind your stomach, not mine,” I tease. I’ve been dreaming about that coleslaw and po’boy and I’m not waiting if I don’t have to.
