Page 7 of Blake University: HBCU Chronicles – Yon & Imole
The second saw her walk in, time slowed.
Imole.
Red dress. Gold heels. Skin glowing like it had been kissed by the same sun that made his ancestors royalty. Her hair was piled high in soft curls, a crown that matched her energy. She was confident, graceful, and fire without even trying. She didn’t walk into the club. She owned it. Which was weird because he couldn’t recall her ever being here last year. Guess it didn’t matter, she was here now. And He like what he saw.
leaned forward slightly from his spot in VIP, one arm draped over the back of the couch. Ace, sipping from a bottle beside him, followed his gaze.
“She just walked in?”
Ace asked, already knowing the answer.
nodded once. “Yup.”
“Say less,”
Ace grinned.
“That’s you?”
“Not yet.”
A slight smirk tugged at ’s lips as he sat up straighter.
Gravy and Porkchop caught the shift and turned to look.
“She bad,”
Gravy muttered.
“She been watching you since the step show.”
“When you hit the signature move and licked your lips?”
Porkchop added, shaking his head.
“She looked like she needed a fan and some holy water.”
laughed. But low-key? That felt good. Real good.
“I just know her panties bunched”
Ace joked.
They all chuckled. But stayed focused, eyes glued on the baddest girl in the club. He turned his full attention back to Imole, who was standing near the bar with her girls; Lala in white, and Stormii in black. They made a trio, but Imole stood out without even trying. She was sipping slow, scanning the room like she was trying to decide if she belonged in it.
Their eyes met. Again.
And just like that, he gave her a slight nod and that signature Dawson smirk. Nothing heavy. Just enough to say, Yeah, I see you.
A few minutes passed
Then she started walking toward him.
Her hips moved like the beat belonged to her alone, and the way the red dress hugged her curves? It took every ounce of ’s composure not to stare too hard.
When she got close, he rose to meet her halfway, slipping his phone into his pocket.
“You clean up nice,”
he said, voice smooth and playful.
Imole tilted her head, smiling with that same soft charm that used to make him forget chemical equations during study sessions.
“You don’t look too bad yourself.”
“I don’t?”
He gave a mock frown.
“Damn. I was going for unforgettable.”
She laughed, and it wrapped around his chest like a slow jam.
“I already told you, you were.”
He nodded toward the couch.
“You wanna sit with me for a bit?”
She glanced back at Lala and Stormii, both of them grinning like proud cousins at a family reunion then turned back to .
“Yeah. I do.”
They slid into the corner of the VIP section, the music booming around them. Old Southern trap vibrated through the floor, but between the two of them, it felt like they had their own rhythm.
“You been out all night?”
she asked, relaxing beside him.
“After the step show? Yeah,”
he said, leaning back with his drink in hand.
“VIBZ is tradition. It’s a Mega homecoming staple.”
“You?”
“This is a first for me,” she said.
raised a brow.
“For real?”
Imole nodded.
“Freshman year, I was too shy and too busy. Tonight… felt different.”
“I get that,”
he said, eyes studying her closely.
“You definitely walking different tonight. Energy on ten.”
She looked at him, curious.
“What felt different to you?”
He paused for a moment, swirling the drink in his hand before meeting her gaze.
“Honestly? You. Seeing you again reminded me this place got more than just noise and parties. You always been quiet, it’s nice to see you coming into your own.”
Her expression softened with surprise like she hadn’t expected that answer, but wasn’t mad about it, either.
“You always say smooth stuff like that?”
she asked.
grinned.
“Only when I mean it. And only to the ones who earned it.”
She held his gaze a little longer this time. And just like earlier on the yard, the rest of the club blurred. The lights, the bass, the bodies moving to the music—none of it mattered in that moment.
Just . Just Imole. And something that neither of them saw coming.