Page 4 of Anything Necessary for Her (Crenshaw Kings #9)

For the next hour or so, Kailey and I had a good ass time drinking, dancing, and rapping along to our favorite songs, especially “WHATCHU KNO ABOUT ME” and “Tomorrow 2.” Hell, anything by Glorilla. Kailey and I loved her.

Trayvon watched me the entire time and only got progressively pissed as the night went on as I switched out dance partners, some of them his teammates.

By the time it was 1 a.m., Kailey and I were hungry and ready to go, so we left the backyard, making our way through the house and out of the front door. I could hear someone behind me with hurried footsteps, and I knew it was Trayvon.

“Aye!” He grabbed on my arm, and when I flipped around quickly, he threw his hands up in mock surrender.

“I’ll start the car.” Kailey scoffed, making Trayvon cut his eyes at her as she switched off.

“I’m tired and hungry, Trayvon. Let’s put a pin in it,” I started off, laughing at some nigga trying to holler at Kailey and her dissing him.

“Why you have to act the fuck out every time we at some shit?” He hopped to stand in front of me, making me roll my eyes and giggle.

I wasn’t trying to laugh at him, but I was tipsy, he was doing the most, and I didn’t give a fuck.

“What did I do?” I humored him, feeling like a bitch for laughing in his face.

“You danced with every fucking body but me, you embarrassing a nigga saying we not together, and gave a lap dance to Ricky.” He threw his hands out animatedly as he explained.

Ricky was his teammate, so I figured he would be bothered by that, but at the time, I wasn’t thinking. I was having fun.

Sobering myself up a bit, I replied, “As long as you’re too pussy to come look my brothers and father in the eye, don’t worry about what the fuck I do.” Before he could say a word, I added, “Good night!”

“I can’t even get a kiss?” he shouted to my back as I strutted to Kailey’s waiting car.

I didn’t say anything in response as I climbed into the passenger side of Kailey’s brand new, fully loaded Camry her parents had bought her for graduating. I still had my Jeep that I received as a gift some years ago and loved it, but as expected, Kailey’s car was nicer.

“Why is he even still trying, knowing he won’t make it any further than he has now?” Kailey pulled off down the street, leaving Trayvon standing on the curb, looking stupid.

“Used to having his way with these other bitches and thinks it’s the same game.” I buckled up, staring out of the window.

“I mean, but honestly, B, if he was willing to meet them, I don’t think you guys would work. You need a nigga that got some roughneck in him like your brothers.”

“That’s true, but even those types freeze up as soon as I mention I have seven brothers. They don’t even have to know who my daddy or brothers are. Just the mere fact that I have seven of them changes their whole demeanor.” I shook my head out of frustration.

Men would be all into me, but as soon as I dropped that fact, it was like a switch had been flipped.

They’d go from being flirtatious and confident to standoffish and quiet before finding a way to leave or stop the conversation.

And the men who did know I was Prime’s only and precious daughter, plus Asif and Lequay’s baby sister, only admired me from afar and completely ignored me otherwise. It was frustrating.

The one positive about Trayvon’s ass was that despite all that, he still wanted to date me. Most niggas would stop talking to me altogether, but not him.

At one point, I’d come to the conclusion that to the niggas who didn’t know my family, I wouldn’t mention having seven brothers, but then I remembered that I needed to mention it to check how a nigga would react.

The last thing I wanted was to start liking someone just for them to ruin everything because they couldn’t deal with my family dynamic.

“What about Low-Low?” Kailey looked my way briefly, then focused back on the road.

Shaking my head, I said, “Um, no.”

I didn’t want to like Low again in that way.

Not that I gave a fuck what my brothers or father thought about who I messed with, but I didn’t want the issues it would bring.

While I would always live my life for myself, which included dating who I wanted, I had a strong bond with my brothers, and I could never be truly happy if we were estranged.

My father was easy work. He loved me too much, I was his only daughter, and if I let my eyes glaze over enough, he would become putty in my hands for just about anything.

Even as a young child, my dad could never discipline me, because I was one of those kids who cried when they did something wrong.

My mom hated it and, therefore, had to be my full-time disciplinarian, but even then, my father would stop her after about one or two belt licks.

“You used to loooove his ass, Banks! You telling me that seeing him in Vegas didn’t do nothing to you?”

“That was some high school shit, Kailey. Don’t get me wrong, Low was fine back then, and even more delicious now that he’s a real man, but no. It was nice seeing him again, but that’s all it was.” I nibbled on my lip as I pondered my own words.

Was that even true? I didn’t feel like I had a crush on Low.

I didn’t think about him constantly like I did as a teenager.

However, ever since Vegas, he did infiltrate my thoughts on occasion.

And I noticed after being around him, all the niggas I went to school with, including Trayvon, seemed . . . boyish.

Tonight was the first time ever that while hanging around my graduating class, I felt older, more mature, and like the men there weren’t on my level, despite us all being the same age.

“I don’t know. You were watching him walk away, plus you remembered his last name.”

“Oh my gosh! I just have a good memory, and it was only four years ago that he used to come by a lot!”

“Okay, what was David’s last name?” Kailey quizzed, pulling into the parking lot of IHOP. It was the only thing open that we could find quickly.

“Who?”

“Exactly, bitch. You don’t even remember David, the nigga who was obsessed with you just four years ago and used to bring you flowers every day to class.”

“Oh shit. Him. What was his last name?” I unbuckled myself, trying to truly remember because I didn’t want Kailey to make something out nothing over the fact that I remembered Low’s.

“Williams.” She burst into laughter. “He got a basic ass last name, and you ain’t remember the shit.” She shook her head as we both got out of the car.

“Okay, well that doesn’t mean shit. I had a crush on Low, so I was always paying attention to him. Add that to the fact that I have a good memory, and there you go.”

“Mhm.” Kailey ignored me as we trod into the eatery.

Regardless, Low primarily worked in Nevada these days and rarely, if ever, came by. So if I was developing a crush again, it would dissipate just like the last one had.

“I got no sleep last night.” Kailey stretched in front of me while yawning as we sat on the floor of the practice room of Prolific Pointe Ballet School.

We were both at the apprenticeship level, but I wouldn’t be there long. I planned to make my way up to being a principal dancer and quickly. The competition at Prolific Pointe was steep, though, which made sense because the name of the school spoke for itself.

“Why?” I frowned.

“Denny wanted to see me.” She wiggled her brows as she leaned forward.

“Still, why didn’t you get any sleep? I’m sure you guys’ time together took no longer than five minutes.”

Kailey’s jaw dropped before she laughed loudly, just as Carolyn Withers, our instructor, walked in, causing everyone in the room to be silent.

“Ladies, as you know, the upcoming show will be Giselle. The ballerina who takes on the title role will need to show exquisite form, expertise, and timing. She will also need to show the same attributes outside of dance.” Carolyn paced in front of us with one of her pencil thin brows hiked.

The other ballerinas clamored about as I listened closely, knowing I was gunning for the role of Giselle.

I was so excited for us to do something that was on the scarier side versus our usual like The Nutcracker or Romeo and Juliet .

“Auditions for all parts will take place in just two weeks.” She began handing out a paper with a few of the harder and newer moves that would be in the choreography of the show.

I studied it as we all stood up while Carolyn snapped her fingers at us.

“You got this one, babe.” Kailey whispered to me as she studied her own paper.

“You’re not gonna try for the lead?” I frowned.

“Nah.” Kailey shook her head, giving no other explanation.

“Few more minutes, ladies, before we start to practice! I hope you didn’t stuff your faces too much before today!” Carolyn shouted.

She was extremely strict, mean, and lacked any type of comforting spirit, but she’d produced some of the top ballerinas, and I wanted to be next.

Carolyn gave us a little more time before making us get to work.

For the next two hours, we practiced heavily on the new moves, trying to perfect them.

Like always, Carolyn made some of the girls cry from being so mean, but they were weak.

Whenever she yelled at me or berated me for messing up, I took it in stride and listened like my daddy taught me to.

My father always told me that the students, or people in general, who were willing to listen, learn, and apply would always be successful. And the know-it-alls, or the ones who couldn’t take criticism, would never make it. He was right.

In all my years of dancing ballet, the girls who argued with the instructors or swore they knew more than the instructor would always fade into the background, being forced to quit eventually.