Jackson poked his head around the corner. “Shit, Felix and Roxie out here fucking! You gotta come peep this!”
“Oh, shit!” I heard someone exclaim.
“Let me see!” someone else hollered out.
“Move so I can look!” yet another voice blurted out.
Within seconds, my balcony was packed like a school parking lot during a fire drill.
“Felix, you low-down piece of shit!” Mike yelled.
I didn’t have shit to say. I wanted to be alone.
“Excuse me.” I pushed my way through the crowd, seeking refuge in my bedroom. “Can I get through please? This is my fucking place.”
“Yardley, come here, baby!” Roxie called out after me. She caught up to me and tugged at the back of my shirt.
“Stay the hell away from me, Roxie,” I said, pulling myself free from her grasp. “I can’t deal with this now!”
I went into my bedroom, slammed and locked the door.
“Yardley! Yardley, open the door, bro!” Felix demanded, banging on the cedar.
I punched the door and then sat on the bed, my hands still balled into tight fists. “Everyone get the fuck out!” I screamed out.
“You heard the man!” The militant side of Dwayne came out. He bellowed at people like he was playing the lieutenant in a military flick. “Everyone get to stepping! Roxie, that means your skank ass, too! Make some fuckin’ tracks and don’t fuckin’ look back!”
“Dwayne, you can’t talk to me like that!” I heard Roxie complain.
“I just did! Party’s over! Grab a sandwich and a beer and take them with you!”
I could hear people being shuffled away from my bedroom door and over the next few minutes, the noise and chatter tapered off. I stuck my head out the door and didn’t see anyone but Mike and Dwayne. Both Felix and Roxie were gone. Then Kurt showed up, a day late and a dollar short.
“Hey, Kurt! Bye, Kurt!” Mike said.
“Damn, what happened? Was that Felix and Yardley’s girl out there?” Kurt asked in wonderment.
“Hell yeah, it was!” Dwayne exclaimed.
“Shit!”
“Party’s over, Kurt.” Mike pushed Kurt gently toward the door.
“What about the game?” Kurt asked, still expecting to chill out and get his eat and drink on.
“Fuck the game! Go watch it at a bar or something!” Mike slammed the door in Kurt’s face.
I remained in my room for the rest of the game. Mike and Dwayne were so-called whispering, but I only missed about two words. An expensive penthouse and thin ass walls.
“Yardley, you want me to stay? I could spend the night,” Mike finally offered through the door.
“No, I want to be alone.”
“You sure?”
“Positive.”
“Aiight, man. Peace out.”