“Would you please cut that shit out, D!” Pri shouts. “Damn. And wipe that smile off your face, Fabulous. It ain’t like that.”
Chantal’s heavy footsteps rush up the stairs, home from her college classes. It’s as if a cloud of cold air has followed her into the house, and I shiver in my pajamas. “What y’all getting on about?”
“Kasim took Fab out to dinner,” Pri says. She settles back down on my air mattress and I sit on Chantal’s bed. “Like a restaurant, for real for real.”
“If he asks you to marry him, say no,” Chantal says as she drops her heavy book bag on the floor and takes off her coat.
“Marriage? We’re talking about fucking and you roll up in here talking about marriage? Fuck outta here with that shit!” Pri throws a pillow at her big sister.
I giggle and throw a pillow at Pri just for fun. She throws it back. I try to duck, but it hits me in the face.
“Did you tell her how Kasim always falls in love and wants to buy wedding rings for his girlfriends?” Chantal asks. She starts taking out books and her computer from her bag before she even undresses.
“What?” I say. “Wedding rings? He’s only . . . Wait. He’s seventeen, right?”
“Eighteen, so he’s old enough to get married if he wants,” Chantal says. “Wait, I got something for you.” She hands me a box from her book bag.
“Married? No way,” I say as I open the unmarked box. I can’t hide the smile on my face, because the thought of getting married makes my insides like syrup. It all plays out in my head like a very fast commercial—picking out a dress with my mother, getting my hair done in a salon, seeing my cousins fight over which bridesmaid dress they want to wear, going on a honeymoon to Italy or Miami.
The box holds a brand-new cell phone, and I immediately turn it on and start pushing all the buttons.
“Look at her face! Now you can text Kasim your wedding plans, ’cause you were seriously thinking about it, weren’t you?” Pri says.
I quickly snap out of it as Donna comes into the room and all my cousins start to laugh at my expression.
Then Donna asks, “Are you a virgin, Fab?”
I smile and nod. “A little something here and there, but . . . my mother would kill me.”
“No dick? Good, stay that way,” Chantal says.
Pri kisses her teeth. “Fab, mother and dick are two words that should not be in the same conversation. And ain’t nobody wanna be like your corny ass, Chant. If you could fuck a book, you would.”
“You know what?” Chantal comes over and shoves Pri’s head. “I would fuck a book before I fuck some dude who doesn’t respect me. I’d fuck a degree, a paycheck, and a damn career! And Fab, you better act like your mother is here. Don’t do anything she wouldn’t want you to do.”
“Yeah, listen to your mother, Fab, and not corny-ass Chantal,” Pri says.
My cousins go back and forth with their jokes and playful insults. Pri takes another pillow and starts hitting her sisters. They each do the same. I grab a pillow to cover my face so I can laugh and laugh. My whole body feels strange. My heart doesn’t beat; it dances. It’s as if Kasim has stepped into my mind and invaded every single thought.
As everything calms down, Pri lies on Chantal’s bed, breathing heavily and still giggling. Donna is at the dresser mirror, messing with her hair. And Chantal is at the edge of her bed with an opened book and a highlighter in her hand. While their attention is away from me, I let my thoughts wander—Kasim, Kasim, Kasim.
“Aww, she likes him,” Donna says, coming over to my mattress and plopping down next to me. “He’s sweet. He’ll take care of you.”
“Get away from her, D,” Chantal says, not looking up from her book.
Donna waves a hand at her. “It’s all about love, Fab, I swear,” she says. “If he loves you, he’ll make you feel like a million dollars.”
I suddenly wonder if Dray really loves Donna. I don’t think it’s love that makes her feel like a million dollars—but maybe the actual money he gives her for all those wigs and makeup and clothes. Drug money, if what the detective said is true. If Kasim could make me feel like a million dollars, then I want it to be a million dollars of love and not actually a million dollars.
“Do you love Dray?” I ask suddenly.
The room gets quiet.
“Of course I do,” Donna says.
There are no more jokes and laughs after that.