Read My Sister's Ex for Free Online Page B

the Kanye West concert if I signed up. I said cool.
    So here we are. Our instructor, Floyd Manchester, is a big bulky white guy with puffy eyelids. He looks like he should be in bed asleep, but surprisingly he has a loud voice and lots of energy, and he loves teaching the self-defense class.
    “If you ladies go hang out at the club, never, ever leave your drink unattended. If you have to go somewhere for a minute, order yourself a fresh, new drink. Dump the other. It only takes a second for a man to slip the date rape drug in your martini, and it’s all over after that. You’ll wind up passed out and naked before the night is over.”
    “But Floyd,” says Monica Gordon, a petite white girl with an irritating high-pitched voice. “What if you don’t drink alcohol?”
    “Doesn’t matter. Don’t trust an unfamiliar man’s sodas or even bottled water. If someone wants to do you harm, they’ll use anything they can, even something as innocent looking as water.”
    Floyd continues the class by giving us warnings about how to secure our homes with double-bolt locks, and how we shouldn’t let a guy in our house at the end of a first date.
    “What if he asks for a kiss?” shouts Monica.
    “Kiss him on the cheek outside your home, tell him goodbye, and watch him go to his car, get in, and drive away before you let yourself in your home. I’ve heard cases of women who naively let a man in because he claimed he has to pee, and the next morning the woman wakes up with bruises all over her body and her vagina sore and bleeding. You gotta protect yourself by not falling for everything a man says. I don’t care if he looks like Denzel and Brad Pitt put together.”
    “Hmm, I’d love to see that,” says Alita.
    “Anyway, seriously, ladies, don’t be so weak by a man’s outward appearance; it’s what’s inside of him that counts,” Floyd says with firmness. He then suggests we take a ten-minute break so we can use the ladies’ room before we start practicing our self-defense moves.
    Alita grabs my arm as soon as I stand up. “Okay, what happened? You’re sitting in the front row and clapping just because Floyd says we’re about to learn some new moves, and you weren’t that enthusiastic about this topic two days ago.”
    “Two days ago my sister wasn’t stepping out on a date with …”
    “Who?”
    “Jeff!”
    “Noo!”
    “Yes!”
    “Well, have you called the bastard to see what’s up? Oops, I probably shouldn’t be calling him that, but in my opinion, only a bastard would try to push up on his ex’s sister.”
    I describe how Jeff’s cell phone accidentally dialed mewhen he was out with Marlene, and how unbelievably angry I felt when I overheard their conversation.
    “And girl, I don’t know what to think, but, considering my circumstances, I figure paying close attention to these self-defense moves may come in hand.”
    “Oh, so now you want to kick a Negro’s ass?”
    “Stop grinning, Alita. This isn’t funny at all. I just feel like I have to let out my aggressions, and learning how to kick ass is one good way to do it.” Water rapidly springs in my eyes when I imagine those two being together. I remember when Jeff and I were dating. Jeff would come to the apartment, and Marlene would be super chatty. She’d joke around and playfully tease Jeff a few times, but I would be in on the fun, too. Playing, laughing, and shooting the breeze. I never remember their ever being alone together.
    “But why Marlene?” I plead with Alita.
    “Hmm, girl, who knows why some guys do what they do. All I’m concerned about is that my guy stays on the up-and-up.” Alita has finally met her match in her current beau, Henry “Big Hen,” who says he will kill for her. She’s so happy in her relationship right now and is gunning for me to hit the jackpot, too. She really thought I messed up when I broke up with Jeff but has since respected my decision.
    “Well, if Big Hen asks you to marry him