“Paris, this is Jesse,” I said, offering introductions. “Jesse, this is my sister, Paris.”
From her expression, I could see she was surprised. I’d been going with Jesse for almost two years. He was my first and only lover, but I hadn’t told anyone in the family other than Vegas about him, and Vegas was sworn to secrecy.
“Hey. What up, Paris? I heard a lot about you,” he said jovially, with that preppy swagger that I thought was so hot. He stuck out his hand, and when Paris reached to shake it, he took hers and kissed it. She started blushing from ear to ear.
“Well now, I guess I showed up at the wrong time. If you two have plans, I can find something to do until you get back,” she said.
I waved my hand. “Nonsense. You’re my little sis. I’ve missed you.” I turned to face my boyfriend. “Jesse, is it all right if Paris hangs with us tonight?”
“Of course it is. Does she dig poetry?” he asked, reaching out and taking a bite of my apple.
“Cool. You mean like a Poetry Slam Jam?” she asked.
“Uh ... no.” Jesse looked at me and winked. “She’s cute, London.” He turned back to my sister and explained, “More like the classics. Robert Frost, Shakespeare, Kipling, Word-sworth, T. S. Eliot ... But you may hear a little Langston Hughes. Don’t get out much, do we?”
“No, I don’t, but I’m trying to make up for lost time.”
Jesse glanced at me for an explanation, but I just shrugged. My little sister was trying to act grown. Little did I know how far she was about to take things.
“Look, Jesse, there are two things I need before I leave D.C., and my sister doesn’t seem to know how to help me with either.”
“Okay, little sis,” he said, chuckling. “What do you need?”
“Number one, I need some weed, dude.”
I lowered my head in embarrassment. She had been asking me about getting some ever since she got off the train, but I had no idea she would bring it up so casually to someone she just met.
“Number two, I’m about to go to Europe for two years on Monday, so one of the things I promised myself before I left was that I was gonna get me some college dick. So, if you got some friends, hook a sister up.”
I threw my hands up in the air. “Paris, I can’t believe you just said that to him.”
“You said you were going to treat me to a good time. If I can get those two things accomplished, I will have officially had a good time. No doubt about it.”
I turned to Jesse. “Baby, I’m sorry. She’s a little bit ... high strung.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t hold that against her.” He laughed, but Paris didn’t—until he said, “Don’t worry, little sis. We’re gonna make sure all your dreams come true this weekend.”
God, if my father had had any idea what I was letting my sister get into, he’d have killed me.
We went to the poetry reading at a small club off of Fourteenth Street. It was a chance for the three of us to get acquainted and loosen up. Afterward, we stopped at Burger King before retreating back to Jesse’s place, a sparse student apartment just off campus in what tourists would call “a dangerous part of town.”
Jesse brought out a bottle of MD 20/20, better known as Mad Dog around campus. It was cheap and sweet, but we college kids loved it because we could get drunk on a budget.
“Damn, this some good shit,” Paris said with surprise as she sucked down half the bottle of blue raspberry Mad Dog. “They don’t sell this in New York.”