Page 4 of Breaking the Rules

FOUR

“Where am I going wearing this?” Savanhi asked with her brows furrowed. “Law, bring me something else.”

She held up the mini dress and huffed. “This is barely going to cover my coochie, let alone my ass.”

“How do you dance and you don’t want your ass out?” Lawryn teased. “Isn’t your ass out every weekend?”

“It’s not actually. And I’m a trained dancer by trade, a stripper because life is expensive as hell. But never have I been a whore. And I’m not wearing this,” Savanhi returned. “Where is this party, and why do you want me looking like a slutty version of Wilma Flintstone?”

“So, the party tonight is on Ocean View Beach.”

“How’d you get the invite, though?” Savanhi asked, squinting her eyes in her cousin’s direction. “Ocean View is a private beach for people with long, private money.”

Lawryn bounced her tattoo-covered shoulders and batted her long lashes outlining her light brown eyes. “I have clients. Some exclusive that think I’m a vibe.”

“This client… are you fuckin’ him?”

“How do we know it’s a him?” Lawryn posed.

“Because you went through a phase in college and learned you didn’t like being the giver,” Savanhi spoke with a pointed expression.

Lawryn giggled. “Yeah, that wasn’t for me. I would tell you, but you get to overthinking. And I’d rather you go in with your inhibitions down and enjoy yourself. Especially after you tried to tear that nigga’s eyes out.”

“I’ll do it again, too,” Savanhi huffed. “It’s twenty-four hours later, and I’m ready to fight all over again. Janiyah too. Hoe ass.”

Lawryn waved her finger. “Uh uh no. I stayed up all night with you, crying, cussing, drinking, and riding around looking for her to beat her ass again. Tonight, I’m getting you drunk and hopefully someone else to help you get over surviving a bum.”

“Maybe I should be focusing on stacking money to pay for more studio time? Dick or wallowing in pity shouldn’t even be on my list of things to do. There is so much to do. You can go by yourself, I’ll stay back and just relax.”

Lawryn watched as the boutique owner reappeared with a few dresses and bathing suits in her hand. “Just in time. Try these on, we only have a couple hours to get ready.”

“I sense you’re on some bullshit tonight, and I’m going to be bailing you out of jail in a dress with my ass out.”

“I mean, you’ll have a cover-up on,” Lawryn said, pushing the garments into Savanhi’s arms and finding the nearby sofa to plop down on. “Have you heard from Zay?”

“This morning, when he told me I could go back to the apartment tomorrow night,” Savanhi spoke from behind the dressing room curtain.

“Knowing him, he’s replacing your bed and couch and making sure Brixx can’t move his legs to wiggle his toes, let alone climb the stairs to your apartment,” Lawryn said with slight laughter before continuing.

“Why haven’t you asked him for the money for the studio?

One phone call and you know he’ll have you booked up through the summer and fall. ”

“Because when lessons slow down – and they always slow down – I’m going to feel like a failure again for taking his money again and nothing is coming back to him. At this point, I’d rather just figure out how to stand on my own feet.”

“I get that. I do, but you know, like I know, Zay thinks he’s your daddy, and he’s not going to let you struggle.”

“I know. But I have to also be realistic. Zay can go away at any second, and if I don’t know how to stand on my own, I’m not going to make it,” Savanhi shared, voicing her concerns out loud.

She stopped talking and tried on the handful of outfits, finally settling on a hot pink, thong back bikini with a colorful, flowy skirt cover-up. Cute, flowy, and unassuming.

“Let me see,” Lawryn said, opening the curtain and finding Savanhi tousling her hair to the side. “Oh yes. The body is giving.”

Savanhi rolled her eyes and chuckled. “Thanks.”

She ran her fingers over the butterflies Lawryn tattooed on her pelvis over a year ago and sighed. “New beginnings.”

“New beginnings. Let’s let the stress of trying to get out of the hood and chase our dreams rest for one night. Tomorrow, you’ll be back under neon lights, loud, handsy men, and bullshit. Tonight, drink a little, smoke a little, relax.”

“Fine,” Savanhi huffed. “Even though I’d much rather be on your couch stuffing my face and watching the Mahogany channel.”

“You’re an old woman at twenty-eight years old. I blame that on granny.”

“Considering I didn’t have any other woman in my life,” Savanhi laughed. “Who else am I supposed to mirror. Hell, Zay was the one who stole my first bra and pads from the Stop N Shop. And then his dumb ass taught us about sex.”

“Oh my God,” Lawryn screeched, covering her face. “I will never forget that bullshit. He literally stood in the middle of granny’s house and said if a nigga pull out his dick, shoot it off.”

“It was ridiculous for real. And when I finally did it, my junior year of college, he went and beat the boy up for bragging about it.”

“I saw him a few weeks ago. Zay really beat him cross-eyed. Whew, I hate to see how Brixx is going to turn out.”

“Yeah, I’m creating handicapped men. Settling for men I know can’t do nothing for me, and then when it all goes to hell, Zay beats them as punishment. Maybe it’s really me?”

Lawryn popped her hip. “Stop talkin’ crazy. You just need a man with some bigger hands to hold all that you are.”

“Yeah, like I’m going to find that,” Savanhi said rolling her eyes. “You ready to go?”

“Mhmm,” Lawryn buzzed, popping the tags off. “This is on me. I’ll meet you up front.”

Savanhi got dressed in the oversized shirt and shorts she’d roamed into the boutique wearing. The pair took the short walk back to Lawryn’s apartment, stopping to get ice cream on the way. In the apartment, the women sat on the balcony and shared a blunt.

“Do you think it’s sacrilegious of us smoking Azul Kush?” Lawryn asked with a giggle at the end of her question.

Savanhi chuckled. “I’m not a Crimson Heart and what they don’t know won’t hurt them. Maybe one of them should make a strand that’s as smooth as this.”

“Listen to you, like you blowing trees every day.”

Savanhi rolled her eyes. “Nah, just with you when life slaps me in the face. That’s been what four times so far?”

“Granny, Dame, your miscarriages, and now.” Lawryn sighed. “At least it ain’t death. And technically, Dame is in prison for life but he’s still living so… it’s not so bad.”

“Still sucks though.”

“Yep, but we’re going to focus our attention on having a good time and blowing the bullshit in the wind. So, you finish that and let’s get going.”

An hour later, the pair was strolling arm in arm through a beachfront mansion. Their phones and keys had been zipped into a bag by the security at the front door. Whoever’s party this was, they were serious about their privacy.

“We not at no Tariq Style party, are we?” Savanhi questioned.

“Hell nah. The niggas I know don’t fuck with niggas like that,” Lawryn stated.

Lawryn guided her cousin through the grand house.

White and black abstract art over the crimson-painted walls of the foyer.

White and gray crown molding throughout the living space, and white and black checkered floors that seemed to go through the house.

Without question, this was a bachelor pad.

One Lawryn navigated her way around easily.

It wasn’t until the two reached the backyard, where partygoers were in and out of the pool and the DJ was spinning melodic hip hop records.

“Bitch, this is Sincere’s house?” Savanhi questioned over the music. “How is he living like this?”

Lawryn shrugged and bit a smirk. “Rap, fashion, brand deals.”

“Mhmm,” Savanhi buzzed back before being pulled toward the bar.

She glanced over at the stage, finding the man standing by Sincere.

Dark, tall, handsome, but the expression on his face she was all too familiar with.

Being somewhere he didn’t want to be, doing something he didn’t want to do.

But for the sake of making the people he cared about happy, he was there.

“I need for all the bad bitches in the house to show my nigga some birthday love. Big Deuce hits the three-o at midnight. He needs a drink in his hand and a bitch on his lap,” Sincere spoke into the mic, clearly already turned up.

“Two tequila shots,” Lawryn directed the bartender.

Savanhi turned her attention to finding a quiet corner.

If this were for her to relax, she’d need to have a couple of spots before sitting in a corner and watching the party from afar.

Ironically, working in a club, she didn’t like to party or like to be the spotlight of too much attention.

That was a characteristic that helped her in her line of work.

Men who didn’t want all their business out picked her to dance for them. It worked.

After a series of shots, Lawryn was activated and quickly becoming the life of the party.

Which was right on brand for her. She was, without question, a vibe, a free spirit.

Savanhi watched Lawryn’s colorfully tattooed back wind and twist away from the bar into the middle of the dance floor with a smirk on her face.

She was going to be occupied for most of the night.

Now alone, Savanhi was free to roam out of the crowd and settle into a beach chair.

Her arms crossed, elbows pressed against her knees, she watched the moon hang over the ocean.

The sound of the crashing waves and breeze was enough to sober the pain in her spirit.

“I just want someone to love me,” Savanhi muttered, swiping a tear from her face. “But I guess that’s not happening, is it? You just got to make some rules about your heart, Van. Rule one: do these niggas like they do you.”