“So have you slept with any of the guys yet?”
“Don’t ask questions that you’re not prepared to hear the answers for. But I will tell you that I’m making Steve wait until I’m ready.”
“So you’re going to sleep with him.”
She shrugs, “Maybe.”
I shook my head, “I don’t know about this. I’m not trying to fuck for cash.”
“You don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to. So don’t stress out about it.”
“Hmmm, I’ll give it some thought.”
“Yay! I’m going to give you the web address and you better sign up. We can be a team. It sure beats working at that crappy restaurant for minimum wage. We’re better than that and we deserve more.”
“Do they even like black girls there?”
“Umm hell
o. I’m black.”
“You know what I mean. 100% black women.”
“First of all honey, this is America, no one is 100% anything and yes they’ll love you.”
“You think so?”
“Girl get up and come here.” she walked to the full-length mirror we had at our front door.
I got up to meet her. She had me stand in front of the mirror and stood behind me.
“Okay what?” I asked.
“What man wouldn’t want to tap that?” She laughed, “Look at those hips, that waistline, and those tits.”
“You’re so dumb!”
“I’m serious. And you’re pretty.”
“I’m more than my body and my looks.”
“But we aren’t talking about your big brain right now honey. Look at yourself, really look at yourself, those rich men are going to be falling all over you just like the broke ones.” she laughed.
“Well, I am cute.” I grinned. I still looked pretty good in my pink pajamas. I was a size four, but my curves were prominent and my C cups were nice and perky. My naturally long black hair was in disarray around my shoulders. I got my high cheekbones and doe eyes from my mother. I got my bow lips and slender nose from my father. I also got my skin color from my dad. He’s “piss colored." That’s what they call light skinned people in the hood. So I got made fun of a lot. My mom is a deep chocolate and so is my sister. People never think that my mom and my sister are my family. I’ve always hated that. I remember wishing that I could be darker when I was younger.
“You’re more than cute, you’re drop dead gorgeous. So don’t let me hear you talking crazy again.”
“Whatever.”
“So does this mean that you’re going to join the site?”
“I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it.”
She smacked her lips, “You’re so difficult.”
#Chapter3
I arrived at the assisted living facility. My sister Penelope met me in the lobby with my adorable two-year-old niece, Bianca. I don’t know where we get our names. My mom was determined to name her children as oddly as possible. When was the last time you met a black Roxanne or Penelope?