“18? Wow, you’re young…” “How old are you?” “I made out ‘24’.” “You don’t look 24,” I told him. He took it as a compliment, but he really didn’t look his age. In the dark he appeared younger and white (he wasn’t either). He then introduced me to another guy he’d met tonight, a few people down in the front row with us two. I can’t remember his name – Alex or something. “You’re lovely,” Alex told me. He was drunk, but it made me smile anyway. “Thanks.” I didn’t notice the music had stopped until the lights came up and I saw that Daniel was mixed and taller than he had first seemed. I had lost a pre-rolled joint and was annoyed that I couldn’t find it. I probably sounded like an irritating stoner, but he still went ahead and asked me what I was doing now. “Nothing.” “Do you want to come and hang out with us?” “Sure.” I met the group of guys Daniel had come with, and then we slowly made our way out of the Roundhouse. That Alex guy helped me manoeuvre my way through the crowd. Everyone seemed taller than me. They usually were. ***** The group and I spent a while outside chicken shops and off licences, lined up next to expensive clubs. I was back to being 13; when I would go to random parks and drink because there was nowhere else to go to binge unless it was at someone’s house. I thought about leaving, but had no idea where I was and honestly had nothing better to do, so I stuck it out. “Your name is Cherokee?” one of the guys’ asked me while a few were getting more drinks from a shop. I
don’t remember what his name was, but I remember him being pretty and giving him my phone number because he was in disbelief that I didn’t have Facebook. (I am not sure how my phone number would be evidence of me not having Facebook.) “You know there is –“ I interrupted him. “I know, there is the car, the clothing line, and the porn star named Cherokee. Jeep Cherokee, the Cherokee Tesco clothing line; Cherokee D’ass, I know. Kind of hard not to know when you have a name like Cherokee.” “You know about Cherokee D’ass?” “Yeah.” “No way,” Pretty Boy said, shocked. “Did someone black tell you?” “No,” I replied. I found out about her existence when I was still in school, years ago, and someone joked about me having the same name as a porn star. “Who is Cherokee D’ass?” Alex asked. “This woman who has a massive arse, and has D’ass tattooed on her, well, arse.” “A girl that goes to a *XXXX gig on her own, is right up at the front, and knows about porn stars? You’re like the ideal girl for a guy,” Alex concluded. I’d never known how to take compliments when I got them because I rarely ever received them, but it seemed like one, so I said thanks, leaving out the probably important detail that I had never actually watched one of Cherokee D’ass’s films. I don’t know if that made me less of an ‘ideal’ girl. ***** Daniel told me about some of his heritage (he was also quarter Scottish and Irish like me), and how he had met everyone in university and it was nice to hear because he obviously cared about his friends like I cared about mine, even if it stunk a little of the ‘I love these guys!’ drunk talk. “I don’t know how I met Boya, though,” he admitted.
spark | 23