Page 4 of Blake University: HBCU Chronicles – Yon & Imole

The sun dipped low behind the Blake U bell tower, casting a golden hue over Veta Block. The whole strip was alive with food trucks parked at the curb, DJs spinning from porches, and students flooding the sidewalks in a blur of gold, blue, and late-night cologne. Homecoming Friday night meant one thing: the party before the party.

stood with his line brothers on the stoop of the Mega Phi Psi house, arms crossed and soaking it all in. Porkchop had a plate piled with hot wings and fries, Gravy was holding court with a group of girls under the archway, and Ace was leaned up beside , sipping from a red cup.

"Ay, y’all see how thick campus got since 4 p.m.?" Ace grinned.

"Bro, I ain't seen this many fine women in one place since we crossed," Porchop said, licking sauce off his fingers.

"Facts," Gravy chimed in, raising his cup. "Homecoming brings 'em out different. They glowin'."

chuckled, nodding. "Y’all clowns, man. But no cap, the energy hittin’ tonight."

Then he saw her.

Same phat ass, sweet smile from the quad earlier, but now the fit hugged her waist like it had been tailored just for her. She had thick, solid legs that held her ass up like a tower, allowing her skirt to sit right at the middle of her thigh with just enough fabric to cover her backside. Her hair was down, curly and catching the light, and she walked with that easy confidence that hit in the chest.

“Yo,”

said, nudging Ace.

“You see shorty over there by the Greek Garden? Slim thick at three o’clock, curly hair, short skirt.”

Ace followed his gaze.

“Oh yeah. I saw her at the fish fry earlier. She bad. Why?”

“Something about her looks familiar… y’all know who that is?”

asked.

Porchop squinted, sucking his teeth.

“Nah, but she look like she don’t play with dudes. She got that ‘I’ll curve you quick’ vibe.”

Gravy laughed.

“That’s the challenge, bruh. Step up.”

hesitated, sipping from his cup.

“Man... I think she’s that girl who used to tutor me sophomore year. Imole. Wore glasses. Real low-key.”

Porchop’s eyes went wide.

“Yo, that the same Imole?! Damn, she glowed the hell up!”

“Glowed? Bruh, she detonated,”

Gravy added, shaking his head in disbelief.

adjusted his chain and shook out his nerves.

“Alright. Imma go speak. Just don’t be loud when I walk over.”

“Too late,”

Ace grinned.

“You already the main event.”

made his way across the yard, brushing past clusters of dancing students and ducking a girl trying to pull him into a line dance. His steps slowed as he got close.

“Imole?”

She turned, eyebrows lifted in surprise before they softened into a smile.

“? Wow… I didn’t expect you to remember me.”

He blinked, caught off guard.

“Damn… so it is you. You look… different.”

“Haircut and a new wardrobe will do that,”

she said, biting her bottom lip.

“Different in the best way,”

he added quickly.

She laughed.

“I could say the same. Mr. Blake U still recognizing faces from the library?”

“Only the unforgettable ones,”

he replied.

The music swelled behind them, but in that moment, the noise faded. Just . Just Imole. As they got caught up in a weird silence among the noise.

The silence wasn’t awkward, just... loaded. Like both of them were trying to process this version of each other. scratched the back of his neck, then flashed that grin—the one that got him out of essays, campus tickets, and relationship drama.

“You staying for the step show?”

he asked, tilting his head toward the Greek Garden stage being prepped across the yard.

Imole nodded.

“Wouldn’t miss it. First time actually sitting in the crowd instead of tutoring somebody through midterms in the library.”

chuckled.

“Damn, you still holdin’ that over me?”

“Not at all. I’m proud of you,”

she said, her eyes locking on his.

“You got serious after that. I remember.”

The compliment landed hard. Not because it was deep but because it was her saying it. The quiet girl from tutoring who’d barely speak unless it was about coursework. Now she was standing in front of him like she owned the damn yard. He wanted to say something slick, something cool, but before he could get a word out, the crowd erupted. The step show was starting.

“Looks like showtime,”

she said, backing up into the crowd.

“Maybe I’ll see you after?”

“You will,”

said, voice firm.

He turned back toward the house, chest thumping for reasons that had nothing to do with his frat’s upcoming routine.

Back at the Mega house, Gravy tossed him a hoodie with their crest embroidered across the chest.

“Aye, lover boy,”

Gravy smirked.

“You good? Or do we need to write you out the lineup?”

shook his head and pulled the hoodie over his fit.

“I’m good. Just needed a warm-up.”

“Warm-up?”

Porkchop repeated.

“That wasn’t no warm-up, bro. That was a connection.”

“Man, shut up,”

laughed, trying to downplay it, even though they weren’t wrong.

They clowned him bad about the grin he wore on his face after speaking with Imole. It was something about the way she looked at him that made him smile uncontrollably. The jokes went on all the way back to the Greek Gardens. But didn’t care. In fact he kinda liked it.

The frat was up third in the lineup, and the pressure was thick. The crowd was rowdy, cameras were out, especially from the media team covering Homecoming weekend and ’s parents were somewhere in that sea of faces, probably front row.

This wasn’t just a step show. It was reputation, tradition, and legacy. It was a rite of passage that few had the opportunity to participate in. For it was practically what he was born to do. As they huddled behind the stage, waiting to be announced, focused in. Everything else melted away. Not Shawna, not the shorties in the crowd, not even Imole could distract him. Right now? He was Mega. And when they called “Men of Mega Phi Psi,”

it was game time.

They exploded onto the stage in sync with hard stomps, claps, and chants shaking the block. Their routine was clean, loud, full of energy. hit every mark like it was personal. And when they ended on their final stomp, sweat dripping and chests heaving, the crowd roared like they had just won the championship.

Cameras flashed. The yard echoed with the call: “BIG MEGA!”

looked out over the crowd, his people, his campus and caught Imole’s eyes in the third row. She wasn’t cheering like the rest. She was just smiling. Quiet. Impressed. And present.

That smile hit harder than the applause. And that’s when knew... Homecoming wasn’t just about being seen this year. It was about seeing who was really looking.