Our hostess looks every part the diva rocking a short black dress with gold spikes Michael Jackson style pocking from the shoulder and shoes to match. I allow my mind to wonder whether the outfit was sold together or whether it is just luck that she stumbled across something so well suited. Her long weave boasts mixed colours of black and honey with the lighter tone taking precedence. She whips her weave back as she models Lioness style into the house, us following obediently like cubs.
Mampi’s track ‘Give him some love’ blasts through the speakers demanding you join the dance floor raucous style. There is no room for chitchat but Hope still manages to scream above the music that we should find where the alcohol is and head off down a corridor that leads to the kitchen. Of course trust her to know where everything is. I hate parties and all this charade. Crowds make me uncomfortable especially when people creep behind me and all that. Fear seems to be the only friend that accompanies me nowadays.The house is packed with guys of all sorts. Tall, short, fat, ugly, handsome they are all here. As is the norm, they are obviously outnumbered by the female specie.
‘Right, we are going to have to wipe that tense look off your face it makes you look raggedy! Here drink this.’
She hands me a glass of red wine and orders me to down it before pouring me one which I can sip slowly. She is treacherous this one but not wrong. I lighten up and manage a smile.‘Now you know we have to hit the dance floor so get your dancing face on andlets go. Plus your surprise awaits you.’
We head over to the dance floor and when the DJ sees her coming, he changes the track to ‘Dancehall Queen by Beenie and Lady Saw’ this song is our jam and has been for years it is our signature. When the track starts we dance over onto the dance floor moving everybody out of the way so they can make room for us. In seconds there is enough room for us to start mashing up the place. The booty pop bashment style is released and the Willie bounce soon comes in. Our girls come and join in and then the track changes to the Dutty wine.
By now I have forgotten any sense of shame and chastity. This song unleashes a Jamaican in me who was never a part of my blood but I dated briefly. Hope, Tendai and I set off swishing our heads round duttywine style while in other corners girls are whining up on any dudes they can grab a hold of. The best part of parties for me is the dancing that’s why you would never catch me dead in a dress on the dancefloor. I am doing the headstand and popping my booty in the air and getting downright raggedy. Bashment is my middle name and thank God no one from work sees me in this state.
Guys can be so annoying when you are enjoying doing the tekweh yuhself and that is when he thinks it is a good idea to come and dance up behind you. I have little patience for that. I just want to dance and get the hell out of there. Sex is not on the cards for me. It is almost like I am allergic to it and I just don’t seem to understand why. Since the rape incident, Hope and I shy away from rowdy clubs and prefer to stay in places like a house party where you have a chance of making it out undefiled! I guess it is just the scars left over that make us so conscious.
‘Shekinah come and get your surprise woman!’
‘Can it not wait till the song finishes?’ she grabs my hand and leads me to the entrance of the house where it is a little quieter. I am dripping with sweat and the fresh air slaps me like a soldier. My hair is slightly matted to my face as if to tell me off for ruining my makeup. There are two guys standing at the entrance and when they both turn I feel almost sick to my stomach mixed with butterflies. Aaargh Hope how could she do this to me. I told her I never want to see his sorry dreadlocked self again.
His strong eyes lock with mine. The intense hazel hypnotising my every senses. Gosh this man is fine. Worst part is that he is even finer than the last time we dated.Oh damn now I feel uncomfortable and self-conscious. Do I look better or worse than the last time I saw this guy? My gosh he is even taller now and that chest! It could pass for a double bed. His skin is a smooth dark chocolate it puts a baby’s bottom to shame. Is that even legal for a guy to be this hot?
‘Zambia!!’ He rumbles looking at me from the corner of his eye whilst he leans against the door frame with his biker jacket hanging leisurely on his shoulder. Arrogant prick! Cannot even call me by my name still. Well two can play that game!
‘Jamaica!’ I say through clenched teeth. Does he think hecan just stroll back here like nothing happened? Well tough boobies because I aint that raggedy! I shoot Hope a stern look but her alcohol fever shields her from the fiery pits of hell.
‘Yuh look fine nuh man! Yuh till di dancehall queen no doubt’ he rumbles again. Aaargh it makes me sick how I can hate and love a man at the same time. No not love. Absolutely loathe him! Yet my feet stay rootedto the spot. It is either the alcohol or I am plain stupid one of the two. ‘Can wi talk?’
‘First of all Dante, hear mi well. Speak to me inna English nah patois you overstand?’ I say tapping my head with a finger. ‘Secondly the name is Shekinah, not Zambia and thirdly I have nothing to say to you.’ I turnto leave him and the party but he trots after me and grabs my hand. I pull away from him with such attitude he is taken aback. His long sexy dreadlocks swing back over his shoulder. Gently he swishes them back with one hand whilst still maintaining eye contact. He is a walking talking aphrodisiac!
‘Listen, I am sorry. I was cheeky and didn’t realise it but for you I will speak in proper English. I can’t see why you are still so angry at me though! I thought with time we could get things back to how they used to be.’ He has obviously picked up a very strong Jamaican accent the past coupleof years and even though he is speaking English you still pick the twang of his accent. Some might think it is delicious. I roll my eyes at him and warn him to stay away from me. ‘You are still feisty! I like that! But yuh know mi luv you long time!’ I slap him instantly.
‘English Dante! Now stay away from me. Is that clear?’ Hope runs after me shooting him one of those drop dead now looks and follows me to the car. ‘Hope how could you bring him to the party? You enjoy seeing me upset do you?’
‘What the hell Shey! You never really told me what happened with you two and I thought you were only mad at him because he left with hismother for Jamaica after the father died. Tell me what’s wrong!’
‘You and he can figure it out together. I am going home.Dante can bring you back!’ With that I slam the door of the car and zoom off home.
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