Ghetto Girls. Anthony Whyte

way past three older women sipping, and standing around losing their souls in the bottle.

      Coco gazed out the car window. “Why do these people keep holding on?” she wondered aloud.

      “That’s their salvation, drinking, I guess,” Deedee replied.

      “They need to just give up and git da fuck off the curb.” Danielle said.

      “That’s...that spot right there!” Coco yelled as she changed the subject to something less depressing.

      “Yeah...yeah,” Danielle and Josephine yelled as they gazed at the nightclub Genesis.

      “Let’s check this scene, yo,” Coco demanded.

      “Okay, I hear you. But can I park first?” Deedee asked.

      “Yeah, right over there. They’re pulling out,” Coco shouted.

      Deedee guided the car with some difficulty into the vacant spot. The teens standing in line turned and stared in the direction of the car.

      “Why’s everyone all up in my biz?” Deedee asked loud enough for anyone to hear. No one answered. Da Crew had performed at this club before, so Coco moved toward the front, motioning Da Crew and Deedee to follow. The girls felt like celebrities as they were escorted through the velvet ropes of the VIP entrance into the club.

      “Hey yo, check this out. We’ve got some honeys in da house,” an Afro-headed youth exclaimed as he menacingly approached the girls, his hips gyrating and arms above his head.

      “What up? What up? Ladies y’all wanna be swinging wit’ Lil’ Long, or what?” He asked. Coco stepped closer to him, pressing four fingertips in his chest.

      “We’re gonna swing wit’ you later, Lil’ Long. But for now, just cool it. We’re gonna chill. And here’s a Spearmint, yo. You might need some more, but it’s a start.” She turned to Da Crew. “Why does every stinking-breath wanna get up all on top of me, all up in my face tonight?” Coco asked as she lit another blunt.

      “You’re gonna have to put that out,” a club security officer gruffly ordered.

      “Okay, okay,” Coco said. She inhaled and then crushed the lit tip under her right boot.

      “Bitch, that’s some expensive-ass weave you’re wearing, right?” a handsome thug with braids down to his shoulders asked. He was joking around, but Deedee wasn’t having it.

      “Yeah, it’s your mammy’s,” She immediately shot back.

      “Ouch,” chorused a small crowd of club hoppers who gathered at the site.

      Coco and Da Crew were wearing headgear, so Deedee figured the voice was directed at her. She felt like she had to reply.

      “Yo, I’ll slap—”

      “Whassup, Deja? Yo chill. This is my friend, Deedee. She’s real down-to-earth once you get to know her,” Coco said. She hoped the situation wouldn’t get physical.

      “Well, as long as she recognizes that I’m not here to represent da bullshit. I’m only representing da real. Then we ahight, you feel me, ma?”

      “Watch da soundman,” the deejay roared, flipping the script. The music transformed the club into a hip-hop mass.

      “Booyakka ... Booyakka ... soundman lick some shots,” the girls yelled in unison jumping and reveling.

      Reggae groove transformed the mood of the club into a swirling, bass-heavy, resonating grind. The volume sent a quiver up the spine of even the most relaxed wallflowers. The dance floor rocked as Coco moved toward the bar, not stopping to join the party. Deedee, hot on her heels, finally caught up to her.

      “Coco, Coco, I just wanna thank you for what you did back there. That was the second time you saved my—”

      “Keep your mouth shut and stop acting like you’ve got bodyguards and there should not be a third time. Un’erstan’?” Coco growled, her nostrils flaring and her brown eyes wide open.

      “But—” Deedee’s face wore a baffled expression.

      “Nah, no buts, homey,” Coco said. “Just know that these niggas are grimy. They ain’t taking shit off no one, Ahight.”

      “Cool, I hear you…”

      “You really wanna be cool, buy me a thank-you drink.” Coco drifted toward the bar.

      “I can’t do that. I’m a minor.”

      “Exactly, save it, yo. You’re right, minor. You ain’t old enough. I’m a go holla at some major peeps.” Coco’s voice trailed off. She whirled off to the bar and came back with a drink in hand.

      “Don’t you think you’ve had enough of that stuff?” Deedee asked.

      “Okay, okay, so you gave Da Crew and me a twirl in your uncle’s rented car. Now you wanna tell me what to do?” Coco asked without even looking at Deedee. For a moment, Deedee reflected on what exactly she should say. She wanted to say ‘fuckoff, ’ but repressed the thought. Instead she pulled out her cigarettes, offering one to Coco, who quickly took it and lit it. Deedee stared at the cigarette dangling between Coco’s protuding lips.

      “You’re not even gonna offer me a light, are you?” Deedee asked.

      Coco’s face almost formed a smile, but she spotted Deja and his braids, double fisted making moves toward them and a frown quickly reappeared.

      “My bad, yo,” Coco said and gave Deedee a light.

      “Ah yeah! Ahight!” Deja shouted, caught up in a partying mood.

      He approached the girls clapping his hands. Deja’s eyes were locked on Deedee.

      “Yeah yo,” replied Coco, pushing Deedee aside and confronting Deja.

      “Yeah Coco, so you wit it now?” Deja asked with a smile.

      “Ahight, let’s ketch a wreck, yo,” Coco replied.

      Deja grabbed Coco’s hand and pulled her toward the gyrating pile on the dark floor. She was ready for the get down. After the blunt and the brew, Coco’s senses welcomed the groove.

      “Time to get busy, yo,” Coco shouted, whisking by Da Crew. The girls turned around in unison, following Coco and Deja to the dance floor. This was their world.

      Deedee watched as the trio partied with Deja. Suddenly, it seemed as if they owned the floor. They ruled the dance floor. Coco started moving precise, like a ninja anticipating a blow. The other girls took their cue.

      Before Black Moon could Enta da Stage, the girls had the spot rocking and the crowd shouting, “Go Coco, go Coco.”

      Da Crew moved in for the kill, but Coco was sharp. She was a queen in this realm and wouldn’t have it any other way.

      “I’m a take a break, yo,” Coco said, leaving the celebration on the dance floor.

      She made her way past people twisting, shaking their asses, and rhythmically bopping their heads to the urgings of an excited overly excited deejay.

      “Yeah, party people, we’re gonna tear the roof off this mother-sucker tonight and if you feeling alright say all night ...” The party crowd hollered back, “All night.”

      “Yeah and you don’t stop. We got playas in da house tonight…”

      “I hate when they do that preaching and shit, yo,” Coco said.

      “What shit?” Deedee asked. She was still visibly awed by the way Coco had dominated the floor.

      “Wow, Coco. You’re really some kinda dancer. Were you always this nice? I wanna…”

      “No, the question is, can