Page 54 of Lily In The Valley
I shrugged. “They’re just…a lot lately. My mom and dad. Arguing again. More than usual. My mama swears she’s leaving. My daddy swears she won’t. And she won’t, not for long anyway. And somehow, I’m in the middle as if I don’t already have finals to worry about.”
He pulled me closer, close enough that I could smell the cocoa butter and Irish Spring soap he used from the shower I was sure he’d taken before coming over. A whiff of Polo Black touched my nose from the warmth radiating off his body. “You ever think about checking out of all that? No picking sides. Just picking you?”
“All the time,” I admitted.
“Then start now.”
I gave him a look. “What do you mean?”
“What do you need most right now?”
“A break. From everything.”
“Come to this kickback with me.”
I groaned. “Khalil…I am not trying to have somebody throw me on their shoulders and put their face between my legs.”
“Chill.” He laughed. “It’s nothing like that. Some of the old heads in town and they doing a little something. Real lowkey.”
“Y’all always throwing something.
“We believe in balance.” He shrugged. “And you, Lily-girl. Need balance.”
“I have to study.”
“You already been studying. Come laugh. Drink a little bit. Be admired.”
“Admired?”
He gave me that smug, pretty-boy grin. “You know what I mean.”
I hesitated. He leaned closer, his breath tickling my neck. “And if you end up on anybody shoulders, I promise it’ll be mine.”
I swallowed. The thought made my body hum. “Fine. I’ll go,” I said, standing and stretching. “But if y’all get to barking, I’m out.”
He barked once, loud, and I tossed a pillow at him.
The kickback was alreadyin full swing by the time we pulled up. The house wasn’t big. It was one of those shotgun-style rentals just off Claiborne, tucked between two cracked sidewalks and a leaning streetlamp, but it was vibrating with music and laughter. As soon as Khalil opened the passenger door, the scent of grilled chicken, weed, and cheap tequila punched me in the face. Somebody’s cousin was on the speaker, blasting Boosie. I could already see a crowd spilling into the yard, red Solo cups in hand.
“I cannot believe I let you talk me into this,” I said, taking in the scene before me. “This is not a kickback.”
“It depend on what you define as a kickback.” He grinned. “Besides, you need some fun.”
Inside, the house was hazy with smoke and full of loud voices talking over even louder music. The kitchen table had been converted into a liquor lab. Half-empty bottles of New Amsterdam and Hennesy, plastic cups stacked like a pyramid, one lonely bottle of Malibu nobody was touching. People were already dancing in the middle of the living room, and when one of Khalil’s bruhs spotted him, the shouting started.
“Ayeee! I thought you was dipping out on us.”
“Never that.” Khalil barked once.
Oh God.
“Was that absolutely necessary?” I asked, eyebrows raised.
He leaned down so only I could hear. “It’s tradition.”
“I see.”
Before I could tease him more, a couple of his bruhs swooped in to dap him up, secret handshake in tow. One of them, a tall, chocolate-skinned senior with lashes too pretty for his own good, looked me up and down.
