Hook Shot (Hoops 3)

“Whuh?” Billie asks, the word distorted by the cigarette dangling between her lips. “Where am I supposed to smoke? It’s like the whole world has turned on nicotine.”

“Because the whole world has turned on nicotine,” I say. “Around the time we found out it kills you.”

“But it’s not fair.” Billie pouts, still managing to suck on her cigarette like she’ll get some of the effect even with it unlit. “I’m sure it’s a violation of our civil rights.”

“Please don’t tell two women of color that not being able to freely smoke your cigarette is part of the struggle,” Yari says.

“But the struggle is real,” Billie insists. “And we smokers do have rights.”

“Excuse me, White Girl Magic, but with all the shit wrong in the world,” I say, having to suppress my laughter, “you’re standing up for lung cancer? That’s your soap box?”

“We all have vices,” Billie says, trying to sound earnest, but her lips are starting to twitch, too.

“Just don’t blow your vice in my face.” Yari chuckles. “But we’re getting distracted from the matter at hand. Lo, how is celibacy treating you?”

“It’s only been a few weeks.”

“Yeah, but you can’t go cold jerky,” Yari says, chewing on her meat stick.

“I think you mean cold turkey,” Billie corrects.

“I mean cold . . .” Yari mimes pushing the meat stick in and out of her mouth. “. . . jerky.”

“That’s so bad,” I say with distaste. “I’ve gone weeks without sex before, so I’m fine.”

I don’t mention that the only time I think about sex is around Kenan. They’d run with that, and justifiably so.

“Just promise that if you break your vow with Kenan Ross,” Yari says, eyes closed and hands pressed together as if in prayer, “you’ll tell us how big his dick is.”

Billie snorts, and I roll my eyes.

“Not gonna happen,” I mutter, opening my laptop again in the hope that they’ll drop it.

“What won’t happen? You and Kenan, or you telling us about his dick?” Billie asks. “I mean, he’s such a big man. Can you imagine if he had a little dick? That would be like a cosmic joke. A curse.”

I’m totally silent. They don’t even realize how badly they’re trampling my nerves.

“And you know how much I love a big dick,” Yari says.

“Yeah, remember that guy you slept with when you thought he might have an STD?” Billie asks, her face crunchy with disgust.

“One.” Yari enumerates on her finger. “He wrapped it up really tight.”

I snicker, because only Yari.

“And two,” she says, a salacious grin painted on her lips. “He came back clean.”

“You got lucky!” Billie says, pointing at her and giggling.

“I sure did. He was so fine,” Yari agrees half-dreamily. “Now you know a man is fine when he has a gimpy dick and he can still get it. Okurrrr.”

“Don’t invoke Cardi B,” I say with a grin.

“And remember that guy you messed around with that time, Lo?” Billie’s peal of laugher sails from her mouth and fills the backroom. “The seminary student?”

I comb my memory and as soon as I recall the guy she means, I laugh, too. Hard.

“Oh, my God,” I gasp, covering my mouth. “The one who said if I didn’t go down on him, I was gonna miss my blessings!”