Free Material Girl by Keisha Ervin Page A

the sushi restaurant Blue Ocean. Dylan was dressed to the nines in a hippie-inspired Diane Von Furstenberg long-sleeve, flowy, brightly colored sheath dress that hit mid-thigh. To cinch in the waist, she wore a black leather belt. Instead of showcasing her signature bob, she rocked her hair to the back with an eighteen inch weave. An Indian-like headband with flowers and feathers enhanced her spring-inspired makeup. To complete the ultra unique outfit, she rocked a Carlos Falchi pleated clutch purse and extreme cutout sandals.
    Dylan had never been more nervous in her life. Bringing Billie and State together was like the ultimate Clash of the Titans . In one corner you had Billie, the Oprah Winfrey of the social scene, and in the other, State, the Bill Gates of hip-hop. With all of that money and ego in one room, there was bound to be a conflict of personalities. But Dylan was determined to stay hopeful and pray that somehow, some way, the two most important people in her life would get along.
    Checking the clock on the wall, Dylan wondered what could be keeping State. They’d made an agreement that he was supposed to pick her up by seven. It was now 7:50 P.M. Tired of waiting, she picked up the phone and called him.
    “Wassup,” he answered.
    “Where are you?” Dylan spoke, frustrated.
    “Just leaving the office. Why, wassup?”
    “What do you mean, wassup? Tonight we’re having dinner with Billie and Tee-Tee, remember?”
    “Aw, damn.” He faked like he’d forgotten. “My bad. I forgot, babe.”
    “It’s okay,” she replied, looking down at her feet. What Dylan really wanted to say was, “How could you forget? We’ve been talkin’ about this all fuckin’ week!”
    “Well, just meet me at the restaurant then,” she said. “I’ll take a cab.”
    “I’m already runnin’ late, babe. Why don’t you just go by yourself?”
    Breathing in deep, Dylan told herself, Don’t spazz out on him. Don’t spazz out.
    “But everybody’s expecting you,” she reasoned, gathering her emotions.
    “I know, but I gotta go home and take a shower, then find something to wear, and besides that, it looks like it’s about to rain.”
    “Are you fuckin’ kidding me, State? You know how important this is to me,” she spat, heated.
    “I understand that, but they’re your friends. It’ll be cool wit’ just y’all.”
    “And a partridge and a pear tree,” Dylan shot, fed up. “Whateva, State. I’ll go by my damn self, but before I do, let me introduce you to someone I just met. His name is dial tone.” She hung up before he could respond.
     
     
    How could I have been so stupid, to believe that things would be different the second time around? His ass ain’t gon’ never change. And why the fuck is it raining? Dylan thought as she exited the cab. Pissed off beyond belief, she placed her head down and ran into the lounge. The sound of Jay-Z’s song “Run This Town” bombarded her eardrums. To the left of her, sitting on large black leather ottomans, were Billie and Tee-Tee.
    “Where in the hell have you been?” Tee-Tee rolled his neck with an attitude. “We’ve been waiting on you since seven-thirty.”
    “I’m sorry.” She walked over and air-kissed both of his cheeks. “I had to catch a cab.”
    “Why? Where is State?” Billie placed down her drink, ready to go off.
    Dylan wanted to tell the truth. She wanted to admit that Billie was right and that State hadn’t changed. But to see the looks on their faces and to hear the “I told you so” would be too much for her to take. Unwilling to succumb to defeat, Dylan parted her lips and said, “He’s coming. He’s just running a little late.”
    “Oh, ’cause I was gettin’ ready to say . . .” Billie picked up her drink and took another sip.
    “You look cute,” Dylan said to Tee-Tee, trying her best to avoid the conversation.
    “Thank you, girl,” he responded, doing the cabbage patch. “Let me give you a better view.” He stood up and