“Oh,” I said, eyes widening.
He laughed. “Told you.”
Within minutes, people were pulling chairs closer together. They were singing and dancing. A cousin attempted to dance in the middle of the floor and had absolutely zero rhythm.
“Lord,” Stacks laughed, shaking his head. “That boy can’t catch a beat if you hand it to him.”
I laughed so hard I almost spilled my drink.
One of the aunties grabbed my hand. “Come on, LoLo. You dance?”
Before I could answer, Stacks stepped behind me with his hands on my hips.
“Yeah, she can dance,” he said confidently.
The song changed to one with a bounce, and suddenly I wasn’t nervous anymore. I was moving, laughing, and allowing myself to just have fun without worrying about how I looked.
Stacks leaned down and sang off-key into my ear on purpose just to make me laugh.
“You’re so silly” I giggled.
“LoLo,” he yelled over the music, “I told you. You ain’t responsible for nothing tonight.”
The drunk uncle tried to start a toast and forgot what he was toasting to halfway through. Everybody booed him playfully. Someone racked the pool balls. A cousin argued about who cheated last week. It wasn’t glamorous. It wasn’t curated or luxury. But it felt… alive and like real fun family time.
Stacks wrapped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me into his side while the room sang another chorus together.
The opening sounds of “Busted” by The Isley Brothers blasted through the speakers and the entire building went crazy. It was like someone had pulled a fire alarm, but instead of running out, everybody ran in.
The men that had been outside smoking came pouring through the door, beers still in hand. Someone yelled, “TURN THAT UP!” like the speakers weren’t already fighting for their lives.
Stacks looked down at me with a grin. “Oh yeah… it’s over with now. This our shit.”
Every single person in that room knew every word.
The men lined up on one side like they were about to perform on stage. Cups and beer bottles instantly turned into microphones.
The women gathered opposite them, hands on hips, ready for war.
And when he started singing, the men lost their minds.
“BUSTED. It’s 2 o’ damn clock in the morning, where you been?”
They were pointing at random women in the room. Voices cracking, off-key, and passionate.
The women waited and pointed right back.
“Baby didn’t you get my 2-way? I was with my girlfriend.”
Fingers in faces. Heads rolling. Full dramatics like they wrote the damn song themselves. I laughed so hard my stomach hurt. It was beautiful, entertaining, and ghetto in the most joyful way.
Even the aunties were in it, wigs slightly shifted, drinks sloshing. The drunk uncle from earlier had claimed the center of the floor and was dramatically acting out the cheating scene, falling to his knees and then started humping the air.
The entire room screamed.
“UNCLE RAYMOND!” someone yelled.
Stacks shook his head, laughing. “That man ain’t never been right.”
