When To Put Trust On The Line

Part 4

Kenny came on time, announcing his presence with a honk. Through the living room window, I could see a dark, water blue car with his head sticking out of the passengers' side window. I didn't recognize the person at the wheel, and the back was empty. I said bye to my parents.

In the car, I asked Kenny what time the party started at. "Seven," he replied.

"So, we're late?"

Kenny and his friend at the wheel, Wess, laughed. "Late? Who's heard of bein' late to a party? You can be early, but not late. I wanted to wait till the party was in full swing. Probably is now." Kenny glanced at Wess. "And I had some business to take care of."

"Oh." I never asked what. Kenny had the right to his own privacy and I didn't want him thinking I was a nosy girlfriend. I stayed silent the rest of the ride. *

Wess pulled up shortly to a big house with a bunch of cars parked, and loud rap music with a low bass playing, to which Kenny was bopping his head. "Yo, this beat is sick!"

Wess stopped the car. "Alright. Here you are man."

"You not comin'?" Kenny was surprised.

"Not now."

"You comin' later?"

"Yeah. Pro'bly."

"Aigh't. Thanks man. Later." Kenny and Wess slapped hands and did a handshake. I thanked Wess and got out of the car, stepping onto the grass. Wess drove away. Kenny took my hand and looked me up and down. "You look cute."

I lowered my eyes. Kenny still knew how to make me feel shy. "Thanks." I looked at him. He had on sneakers, dark basketball shorts, and a long plain baby blue t-shirt. I didn't get how he could look so fine in such simple clothes. We walked up to the house, passing by a group of people chilling on the porch, and entered the slightly opened front door. The inside was packed and therefore crowded.

Some people watched as we entered. Of course, the majority of them greeted Kenny. Everyone knew him. Suddenly, a tall, slender girl standing at the end of the front hall, surrounded by a group of girls, stepped out in front of us. "Kenyyyy." She wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Rosalinda." They hugged tightly. I stood behind Kenny uncomfortably.

Rosalinda was in the twelfth grade, one year ahead. She was afro-Hispanic – coming from a Puerto Rican family - with long black hair that curled at her hips and complexion of a mulatto child. She was honestly beautiful. No one could disagree. She lived with her dad, near Kenny and Bobby, in a small apartment while her mother had gotten remarried to a white man who made good money and lived in this big house. Rosalinda spent weekends with them, mostly to get on her stepdad's good side since he spoiled her so much. He travelled a lot, often bringing Rosalinda's mom along, which allowed Rosalinda to use the place and throw awesome parties.

She mostly lived with her dad and older brother in the crappier neighbourhood because she didn't want to "forget" who she was and where she came from, like she claimed her mother had by turning to a bourgeoisie lifestyle. Now, with the music in the house deafening my ears, I looked at Rosalinda in her cropped baby blue cami that clung to her flat stomach and highlighted her C-cups, paired with the shortest, tightest black leather skirt that showed off her long, thin legs and clung sexily to her hips a few inches above her almost-knee-high black, maybe three-inched heeled boots. Gosh, she was gorgeous! Kenny broke their embrace. "Glad you could make it," she shouted over the music.

"You knew I'd show up," Kenny said casually.

"We were thinkin' you weren't. You already know you're kinda the life of the party." Rosalinda's loose hair flowed around her full face of makeup, big bright star earrings brightening her look.