Don B. filled all their glasses and instructed Jay to roll a blunt. As they sat there sipping, Don B. began to touch Reese playfully. Normally, she wouldn’t have really been for a nigga touching on her in front of his boys, but this was Don B., so he was allowed special privileges. She allowed his hands to roam over her ass and thighs, but drew the line when he tried to grip her pussy.

A girl who looked like it was taking all of her concentration to stand up straight shambled over to the area where they were sitting. She was balancing a silver dish, with a mound of white powder atop it. Reese began to get a sinking feeling in her gut when the girl placed the platter in the center of the table.

Jay pulled a ten-dollar bill from his pocket and folded it like a shovel. He scooped some of the powder onto the bill and snorted it off the tip. Using both nostrils, he cleaned the bill and pinched the bridge of his nose. Reese could tell by the way his eyes were watering that it was some grade-A shit.

The bill came around to Don B., and he eagerly accepted it. Scooping up nearly twice as much as Jay, he shoveled a scoop into each nostril. Don B. made a piglike snorting sound as he sniffed up the powder. His eyes suddenly went glassy as a dumb smile appeared on his face. He slid the tray over to Reese and handed her the bill.

She looked at it, dumbfounded. Getting bent wasn’t the issue with Reese. Her and her girls smoked and drank every day and even dropped a little acid or E from time to time, but coke was way out of her league. She knew a lot of people dabbled with the white lady to get their buzz on, but had never imagined herself doing it. She had heard too many horror stories about people trying it once and becoming hooked. Another habit was the last thing she needed.

“What’s the problem?” Don B. asked, looking like he couldn’t understand her reluctance.

“I’ve never done it before,” Reese admitted.

“Oh, we got us a virgin, huh?” Jay smirked. “Go ahead, baby, its just a little sniff. It ain’t like you’re doing crack.”

Reese looked from Jay, to the plate, to Don B. He was looking at her, waiting for a response, while she weighed her options. Apparently, this was Don B.’s thing, and if you wanted to stop with the big dogs, you had to roll with the punches. She thought about refusing, but the look on his face suggested that he would be very disappointed. When his eyes began to wander to the other scantily clad girls in the room, she knew she was losing ground.

“Real bitches do real things,” Jay said, nudging the plate closer to her.