Bree doesn’t deserve a man like Kashawn. Leave it to her to fuck up a good thing by fucking your man’s brother of all people. If it wasn’t for Kashawn, she would still be shaking her ashy-ass at Risqué for rent money. Typical Bree, ungrateful bitch. It was me. I was the one who got Deanthony to come to the birthday party. I knew she would go bat-shit crazy when she saw him walk through the door. The look on her face was worth the price of admission. There was no way in hell I was going to spend the afternoon watching her hang all over Kashawn.
It’s all enough to make me throw up. Look at this house. The living room is bigger than my low-income hovel. He’s given her everything and what does she do? Piss it away for a big dick. I should be married to Kashawn. Technically, I saw him first. He was so cute, sitting off by himself, nursing a beer at Club Rehab. Bree was shaking her skanky ass on the dance floor with some loser as usual while I sat around being a magnet for trolls. Even then, it didn’t take much to get Bree between the sheets. A wink and a drink and, boom, she was going home with some loser who reeked of aftershave and K-Mart cologne. It’s a wonder she doesn’t walk around with a mattress strapped to her back. I had these pretty hazel eyes on Kashawn all night and was about to go over and introduce myself when Bree pussy-blocked me. Before I could make a move, she was practically shaking her beach ball-sized titties in his face. The fucked-up thing was that he actually fell for that shit. I went home alone that night, wondering what it is about Bree men couldn’t resist.
Back in high school, she was a mess, a walking broomstick who had no ass and titties the size of muffins. The jocks were all over her as soon as she started to bloom around the tenth grade. She went from broomstick to Ms. Jet magazine of the month in two seconds flat. Girls in high school didn’t much like her when she was a skinny, bookish bitch, but when she started stealing boyfriends and it was rumored that she was fucking half the basketball team, they wanted to burn her at the stake. She can’t fix her mouth to talk about Yvonne. I stood by her and got in any bitch’s face who talked smack about Bree. That’s until she made moves on Brent Martin, this cute boy who was in my World History class. When Bree found out how badly I was crushing on Brent, she sank her claws in and wouldn’t let up until the brother was just another conquest to write about in her Hello Kitty diary. I played it off like I didn’t care that she had fucked the most beautiful boy in school, but I was pissed and vowed to watch my back around Bree. I’ve been covering my ass ever since.
That night at the bar, she came up to me and said, “Don’t wait up.”
“Fuck you, bitch,” I said under my breath as I finished off my Vodka Cranberry.
Bree and I were roommates at the time. We were going to school to study Cosmetology at Tallahassee Community College, but Bree discovered that she could make quick, easy money stripping, so she dropped out of the program and started shaking her ass for coins full time. It was just as well, being that I was pretty much carrying her through the whole program. She would have flunked out anyway. It was a miracle she graduated high school, seeing as how she couldn’t keep her legs closed.
I sat in the car outside of our apartment that night while she finished fucking Kashawn into the floor. The deal we made whenever a man was over was, if the bedroom light was off, sex was being ensued. If the light was on, everything was cool. Of course, that bullshit rule only applied to Bree. I lost count of how many times she’d walked in on me and a man fucking, and then she would play it off like she didn’t mean to bust in on me sucking dick. Weeks and months had passed, and she and Kashawn had become hot and heavy. Usually Bree was about hitting it and quitting it, so I didn’t get what was so special about Kashawn until we were sitting down to breakfast and she told me he was some fancy doctor.
“Oh, so you’re looking at a pay day. You don’t actually love the man.”
“I do love him, and the fact that he’s a doctor is a nice bonus.” She laughed.
It took everything in me to keep from slapping Bree’s gold-digging ass into next Tuesday. It’s hard enough as it is to get a black man with all of these white bitches snatching them up like they were candy from a piñata. Bree gets a good man and all she can see are dollar signs. Hood bitches like her give real sisters like me a bad name.
Kashawn was always at the apartment fixing stuff, cooking, cleaning, and deep-dicking Bree between it all. Her bedroom light stayed off and I was privy to her moaning and groaning like a porn star. I was officially through when she broke the news of their engagement.
Bree came to breakfast that day, giddy as a schoolgirl. I didn’t think anything of it. She always acted that way after the pipe Kashawn was laying down between her legs.
“Notice anything different about me this morning?”
“You got your teeth whitened?”
Bree shrugged. “No, girl, guess.” She rested her hand on her face to get me to notice the bling that was on her finger.
I put on one of my Emmy Award-winning performances and played it off like I was happy for her. “Oh, my God, girl, did he propose last night?”
“On bended knee and everything.”
“Congratulations, Bree. Oh, my God.”
“Thanks, girl. It looks like we have a wedding to plan, maid-of-honor.”
“For real, you serious?”
“I can’t think of anyone else but my bestie to stand by my side at my wedding.”
The thought of Bree walking down the aisle in some virgin-white wedding dress tickled the hell out of me and she was dead set on wearing just that like she was the poster girl for virtue. The only thing funnier would have been her wobbling down the aisle several months knocked up.
“We haven’t set a date yet, but you know I’ve always wanted a spring wedding.”
“So I guess this means you will be moving out.”
“Yeah. Kashawn and I are going to go look for a bigger place on Saturday.”
“So are you going to quit dancing at Risqué?”
“Yeah. Blue-Black won’t like it, but I don’t give a fuck.”
“He’s going to hate losing his cash cow,” I said, throwing in a dig.
“He’s got plenty of girls to take my place. He won’t miss me. He’s always telling me that I’m a pain in his dick anyway, so…”
“Damn, B, it’s going to feel funny not having you around. I’m going to miss our late-night talks.”
“Well, I’m not gone yet, and our late-night talks aren’t going to stop just because we don’t stay together anymore.”
I was laying the shit on thick. The truth was, I was happy to see them go. The walls were paper thin and I liked not having to listen to Bree and Kashawn moaning and groaning like they were auditioning to be in some porn film.
The wedding was held at their house, this huge mansion in Killearn Estates, a well-to-do side of town. The backyard was the size of a golf course. Some of the girls from Risqué were bridesmaids. Classless cunts in expensive dresses. White and lavender were everywhere. Not the colors I would have chosen, but the look was cute. Kashawn spared no expense for Bree. Mama Liz didn’t like her at first, being that she was a dancer, and hasn’t gotten over it, I don’t think. Yvonne wouldn’t let up, either, mean-mugging Bree at every turn. Real or not, I teared up when they exchanged their vows. I stood staring at how handsome Kashawn was, thinking that it should have been me standing where Bree was, in a Vera Wang gown in front of 300 guests.
All this because she shook her titties in his face, I thought.
That wedded bliss shit lasted all of three months before Bree tired of playing housewife and started club-hopping with me. It wasn’t long before she started wagging her ass to every dick that swung across her face.
It kills me what she’s doing to Kashawn. She didn’t deserve him that night at the club, and she damn sure doesn’t deserve to have the man’s hand in marriage. It was time Kashawn knew it.