I tapped my freshly polished oval nails on the table as I waited for Kendrick to bring me my drink. We'd been here for about three hours and these shoes were murdering my feet. Looking around, I admired all the people dressed so elegantly dancing gleefully. Most everyone looked so beautiful.
Finally, Kendrick arrived back at the table and handed me a small clear cup three quarters full of blue punch. He smiled as I grabbed the cup and took a sip. Immediately, my face scrunched up and I raised an eyebrow as I looked at him.
"Eww, Ken. What is this?" I asked, my eyebrow still heightened.
"Punch, I think somebody spiked it, it's cool, though, right." He responded nonchalantly taking a sip from his drink which I noticed was red.
"They had red punch, too?"
He looked at his cup and nodded, "Yeah. Hey, you wanna dance or something?"
"Sure, I love this song." I smiled and after I stood up, I grabbed his hand and lead him to the dance floor.
I turned around and he grabbed my hips as they swayed. Kendrick pulled me closer to his groin and ground his hips with mine. Instinctively, I rested the back of my head on his shoulder as August Alsina sang about a porn star. Moments later the speaker's loud audio allowed Maxwell to tell us about a woman's work.
Kendrick's hands slid down my bare back until his fingertips rested on the middle of my rear end. His head found a place in the crook of my neck as he discreetly kissed and swirled his tongue. His touch alone made me hot, and the fact that he was bold enough to give me hickies in front of everyone was enough to ignite my fire even more. I looked behind Kendrick's back and noticed my best friend Ashleigh with her date, Isaiah, smirking. I rolled my eyes at her and then closed them to savor this moment.
I swore upon celibacy until I was at least out of high school, but the way Ken was arousing me, I didn't know if I'd even make it through the night. Our moment was interrupted when Mrs. McDonald, the principal stepped on stage and began speaking. Maxwell's voice faded out and our attention turned towards her.
"Good evening, Crenshaw Heights!" She cheered as Ashleigh and Isaiah approached Kendrick and I.
Ashleigh rolled her eyes at McDonald, and I couldn't blame her. She was a bit obnoxious and she talked like She belonged on some jazz radio station.
"Everyone enjoying their prom?!" The audience cheered before she continued.
"What were you and Ken-doll over here doing, hmm?" Ashleigh leaned over and whispered to me.
I blushed deeply and shrugged, "Dancing, why?"
"Bullshit, Lana." She rolled her eyes and placed her hands on her wide hips.
"Listen," I changed the subject, telling her to pay attention to Mrs. McDonald.
"Alright, in eleventh grade we have our Prom King-" She paused to open the royal blue envelope, "Darold Ferguson."
Everyone cheered as the guy we know as Ferg stepped onto the stage, stretched his arms out wide and hollered.
"I told y'all now, I told you. I was gon' win King. Why, Rocky?" He held his hand cupped to his ear as his best friend, a senior, Rakim, replied only audible to Ferg. "That's right. I know y'all ain't hear him. He said, 'LORDS NEVA' WORRY!'"
I laughed at him. He and his whole crew, who called themselves the A$AP Mob, were always referring to themselves as lords. Always rapping, smoking, and chasing females. I almost got with Rocky once before Kendrick moved here from Los Angeles. I'd never tell him that, though. They hated each other ever since our junior year last year.
