The music boomed out of the surround sound system, some pop music I don't even listen to. I don't have the slightest idea on why I agreed to come to this lame party. I guess you could say I'll do anything for my friends. India, Wen, or any other of our friends hadn't even checked on me since we arrived a few hours ago. I pulled my beanie lower over my head and backed up to avoid the smoke clouds of marijuana-being blown my way. I couldn't possibly understand how so many people could fit into this cramped little house and be comfortable.
I only came so I could kick it, with my friends. I swear Akron, Ohio has some of the most sorriest raves. I must've had a mean mug on my face, showing how unimpressed and uninterested I was-I've definitely got the resting bitch face syndrome. Most people in this cramped little house avoided verbal contact with me, but they sure enough had no problem talking about me. One blonde girl gossiped about her so-called friends. Another brunette girl droned on and on about her haters, from the looks of it she had none.
I-for one-would rather be home alone, curled up by the crackling blaze on hearth, with an interesting teen fiction, and some hot chocolate. Not in this room filled with people that don't even care about my well being. But no, I just had to be the good friend and agreed to come with India. I must sound like an antisocial pessimist, but parties aren't my forte and I have no business in this place. I'm completely standoffish and I like to brood.
What am I doing here?
I scrunched my nose up in pure disgust at a simply horrific scent. A boy sitting next to me started puking his entire soul out, he couldn't handle what was in his cup anymore.
"Nyla, get off the wall and come dance with me!" India shouted, over the terrible music.
She must be extremely tipsy, she knows I don't dance, at least not in public.
"No Ind, you know I don't dance!" I snap.
"Ew, so like cut the 'tude dude!" she retorts.
India rolled her neck in a full one-eighty and tripped in the process.
I was right, this bitch is definitely drunk.
Some curly-headed boy yelled at her taking up her offer for a dance. I seriously can't hardly hear my own thoughts. Wishing I was at home, I can't wait 'til we can break up out of here.
I sighed and smoothed one of my eyebrows,"Just go dance with that boy over there. He's been checking for you since we walked in."
"Mkay bye, Ny." she says, skipping where the boy stood.
I rolled my eyes real slow and whispered to myself, "Oh God, why am I here?"
My thoughts were interrupted by Ladarius-India's ex boyfriend- shoving a red, plastic cup in my face.
"You want somethin' to drink?" he asks, taking a sip from his own cup.
"Nah, I don't want what you're offering." I reply, turning my back a little bit.
"You don't have to be so impolite."
"Aw, did I hurt your feelings?"
I laughed in his face and fanned him aside.
The song changed to something from the 90's that I'd actually listen to. Dirty 'Ol Bastard and Kelis' 'Got Your Money' played out of the surround sound, everyone black began rapping along and dancing to the beat.
"Oh baby, I dedicate this to all the pretty girls. All the pretty girls, its on. All the pretty girls, in the world, and the ugly girls too. Cause to me your pretty anyways baby. You give me your number, I call you up. You act like your pussay don't interrupt. I don't have no trouble with you fucking me. But I have a little problem wit you not fucking me.
Baby you know I'm gonna take care of you. Cause you say you got my baby, and I know it ain't true. Is it a good thing, no its bad bitch. For good or worse, makes you switch. So I walk on over with my crystal. Bitches, niggas put away your pistols. Dirty won't be having it in this house. Cause bitch I'll cripple your style. Now that you heard my calm voice. You couldn't get another nigga, hoochie won't get moist.
If you wanna look good and not be bummy, girl you better give me that money. Aooow. Hey, Dirty, baby I got your money. Don't your worry, I said hey. Baby I got your money."
****
By now Ladarius and his friend Ronnie had found their way to my lounging spot and leaned back with me. The strong smell of rancid alcohol and weed followed them, engulfing me into the pungent miasma. I scowled and pulled my North Face up to cover my nose. The boys exchanged looks, then a smirk tugged upon the Ronnie's lips.
These bitches are planning something.
He scratched his three month old cornrows and gripped my arm in his other.
"Let go of me, ignoramus!" I yelped, clawing at his hands.
"Ooooh yo cute ass used a big word, ya want a cookie?" Ronnie mocked me.
I stared at Ladarius with wide, pleading eyes. He just looked back at me and chuckled, before walking away.
I cursed under my breath, "Fuck my life."
Holding me pinned against the wall, Ron groped my thighs and kissed my neck, "What you say baby?"
"Fuck you, nappy headed bitch!" I spat, as tears fell down my face.
I kicked him in the private area, when he stumbled back, I tried to run away. He caught my leg and dragged me back to him and squeezed my face.
"Don't ever fuckin' do that again." he pulled back and looked at me, " Fix your face, before I fix it for you and that won't be pretty."
A shadow hovered over him and grabbed his shoulders.
"Ronnie, let go of her and get the fuck outta here!" To my surprise, Mason was the one saving me from becoming a potential rape victim.
In a rush Wen and India ran to Mason and I, standing behind Mase in an attempt to see me.
"Oh my God, Nyla. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have made you come with me. Are you okay?" India cried, wrapping me in a tight hug.
"Do I look like I'm okay?" I sarcastically reply.
She unrelentingly scrutinized my face and kissed her teeth, before turning to the boys
"Mason can you take us home?" she asks him.
"Yeah." Mase tossed his keys to Wen,"Zhang, go get the car."
Wen shot me a sympathetic look, mouthed 'sorry,' and ran out of the room.
****
The ride back to the house was completely silent, other than 107.9 playing lowly. India sat in the front with Wen driving Mason's car, while he sat in the back with me. The heat coming from Mason's stare scared me, it was like he was studying me, looking into my soul. Every now and then I would stare right back at him, he would lick his lips, then avert his eyes towards the window. I pulled out my iPhone 6S to check for any scars on my face.
"Nyla, you're truly beautiful." Mason says, taking my phone.
"Thank you, you're not so bad yourself." I reply, blushing.
I ain't lying either, he looks like he walked right off a Calvin Klein fashion ad.
He chuckled and gave me my phone back,"Thank you m'lady."
I was completely astonished, this was my first real conversation with notorious Mason Hathaway outside of a forced dinner party.
