All Pink Everything

14 - Call to Action

BITCHES BEWARE, Latrice thought to herself as her skyscrapers hit the pavement. Imani wasn't going to be the only one breaking Barbie rules tonight. Why should Barbies always have to wear pink anyway? Red was what she had been feeling for the last week, so it was only proper that she turn heads in a bedazzled ho-fit that matched. The crisp, cold night air gave her even more reason to turn up the heat. Her date was a stunner—tall, slim, and athletic with a pecan complexion. "Remember, you are not my cousin tonight," she told him.

Roger shifted uncomfortably in his stance. Despite his good looks, he was socially awkward, and the thought of going back to high school for one night probably struck fear in him. He closed the passenger side door upon her exit and shook his head. "I can't believe Momma made me do this."

"C'mon, Rog. I'm doing Auntie Lo a big favor by staying with her. You know how badly she wants to have another baby. Ever since you left for college, she's been lonely, depressed, and clinging onto me ever since. You owe her. Now let's go." Latrice sauntered through the dark campus with a new kind of pep in her step. She dared any and everybody to say something about her walk. She was undeniably all woman, and as she stepped into the gymnasium and took in its holiday decor, the shocked gasps and whispers let her know the appreciation of her efforts. It wasn't going to be worth it, though, until she had the chance to rub it in Imani's face. Latrice's eagerness to prove had her energy mounting through the roof. It could have been her sending vibrations through the hardwood floor instead of the heavy bass coming from the speakers. Her peers celebrated emphatically in the spirit of Christmas, but Latrice was about to get it popping and cracking like the Fourth of July.

"Latrice, is that you?" Bunny had removed her lips from Xavier's ear long enough to take in Latrice's crimson ensemble.

"Yes, it's me, bitch. Who else could it be?"

She stepped back and took a harder look. "I hardly recognized you. Why aren't you wearing pink?"

"Because wearing pink would imply that the four of us are on one accord, and we're not. In fact, we all the way off cord like a cell phone with a dead battery, you feel me?"

Bunny shook her head with resilience. "No, Latrice. I'm all about my sisterhood, no matter how divided we may be at the moment."

"Yeah, whatever." Latrice looked to the left and right of her. "Where is Dr. Dolittle Too Much?"

"You mean Imani? I saw Ralph's car in the parking lot. They should be in here any minute."

Latrice turned and surveyed the rhythmically-challenged inhabitants on the dance floor. Someone must have generously blessed the punch with a splash of Grey Goose. Her lower lip dropped when she peeped Jacoury doing the rockaway. He had to have been under the influence of the potent elixir because he seemed to take a liking to the cheerleader ho with the fire engine dye job rolling her hips against his with no chill. He kept glancing over to her and Roger after they had found a table, but she paid them no mind because she knew the best thing in red on the premises was her.

She instead kept her trained eye on the double doors of the entrance, waiting for Ralph and Imani to come through thinking they were Jay and Bey. They were about a billion dollars short, but that didn't stop Imani from thinking she was "Flawless" and Ralph from thinking he was "Big Pimpin'". She knew that when Ralph finally came through and spotted Latrice looking fully put together like something out of Ikea, he was going to realize that he had one hundred problems, and the fact that she wasn't his bitch was one.

Roger continued to sit in a slouched formation next to her, killing her vibe. She decided to get up and navigate her way over to the refreshments. Not only was she thirsty for an ice cold beverage, but thirsty for all the attention she was getting from the boys as she glided over. Not unexpectedly, did Jacoury find a way to disband with his date the minute she got free of Roger, finding the nerve to swagger his way over to her as if they had business to discuss.