Lovers & Haters by Calvin Slater Page A

coat. “Ha, wouldn’t you like to know, X.”
    Romello guzzled down half of the cup, twisted the cap off the bottle, and looked around for security before pouring. “Alex got fam at the front door—that big black bald-headed cat who be patting everybody down is his uncle.”
    All of the guys except for Xavier drank themselves under the table for the next hour—an hour that came with the disappointing news that 2 Chainz would not be performing, due to some kind of scheduling conflict. The rest of the teenage crowd might’ve been waving middle fingers at management in disgust, but Xavier could give a good fart about the live entertainment. He was in the company of good friends. It was fun, too. The rest of the cats were high and talking straight trash to each other.
    â€œAy, man,” Romello said to no one in particular. He pointed at a girl on the dance floor with a weave that looked like rats had been chewing away at it, dropping it like it was hot. “Ain’t that Tiffany Baker right there?”
    â€œI—I—I don’t know,” Alex slurred. His face had taken on a frozen smiley expression. “Her body’s so tight, I wasn’t really looking at her grille. My attention was focused on other parts, if you know what I mean. That girl could run up and smack me and I wouldn’t know who she was.”
    Xavier laughed so hard that he nearly coughed up a lung. “I thought I was sick, but you clowns are hilarious.”
    â€œYeah, these knuckleheads keep you laughing,” Romello admitted.
    A girl walked through the crowd with the subtle grace of a ballerina. It was Samantha. She was gorgeous. When the house lights hit her, it almost seemed like everybody paused to be treated to a taste of what elegance and swagger looked like. The other two girls she was with couldn’t even compete.
    â€œDazam,” Romello said, before asking Xavier, “Ol’ stuck up Samantha Fox be looking good, huh?”
    â€œI thought she was new,” Xavier said. “You sound like you know her.”
    â€œI do. My sister used to manage one of their car services,” Romello replied.
    â€œHer parents got that bread,” Alex added.
    â€œYou mean the Foxes that own the Fox Hill Furniture chain?” Xavier asked.
    â€œYep. The very same ones,” Tyson interjected.
    Xavier was staring at the girl with his mouth open, eyes dazed. The gears inside his head were turning, churning, trying to figure out the best way to approach her. Let her know that he was feeling her flavor.
    It was like Romello was reading Xavier’s mind. “Ain’t no hope for you on that tip, homeboy. You have to get your paper proper if you’re trying to step in her league.” Romello let his eyes roam over Xavier’s clothes. He then looked around the table. “Y’all, give me a few minutes. I need to holler at X for a couple of quick hot ones.”
    â€œWhat’s on your mind, Romello?” Xavier asked, looking at the crew get up from the table and blend into the crowd.
    â€œHomey, I’ve known you too long not to know what you’re thinking.” Romello glanced at Samantha on the dance floor, swinging her hips to the music with her girls. “If you want that, I can show you how to get it.”
    â€œDon’t need your help on this one. Trust me, I got this,” Xavier said with his voice dripping in bravado.
    Romello laughed at him. “The hell you do. No disrespect, X, but if you step to her looking like an old dishrag, you won’t make it past her girls.” Romello pointed to Samantha’s two friends, Jennifer Haywood and Tracy McIntyre.
    Romello leaned in like he had something private to say. “Listen, I’ve been meaning to holler at you. I know we kicked this around a few times, but I need your help.”
    Xavier could hardly tear his eyes away from the smoking-hot, black, slimming dress, slender waist,