one to break up her happy home. Murder hadn’t really shown me shade. I was just making assumptions, so I swallowed it.
“Hey, sleepy head,” Anisa greeted as I walked into the kitchen. She set a plate of pancakes and eggs in front of me and kissed the top of my head as if I was her child, before taking a seat herself.
“Hey, Nis. I’m so fucked up right now,” I said with a half-smile.
“The food will make you feel a little bit better,” she replied.
“Did Mommy ever try to contact you?” I asked.
“She tried,” Anisa said vaguely. She sighed deeply. “Look, it’s like this. I don’t have any family. Family is there for you. They protect you, and Mommy never did none of that. The only family I got is you.”
“What about Murder?” I questioned curiously. I wanted to know how deep their bond was. I never wanted to see Anisa hurt again… not by Murder or anyone else.
“He’s good to me. I care about him. He makes sure I have everything I need. I’m glad he’s a part of my life, but with him, you can’t really plan ahead. I have to take it as it is today, because one day he’s not going to make it through that door. We both have a clear understanding about where we stand. It works between us because neither of us is looking for love. He doesn’t disrespect me with other chicks or nothing, but if it ever came to that, I’m not tripping. He’s security, and I need that right now, nothing more, nothing less.”
I couldn’t really understand why she had Murder on a short term relationship plan, but I didn’t question her. She knew him better than I did. In any relationship there is baggage, and she knew what Murder was carrying.
“Can I borrow your car?” I asked.
“You know it, babe,” she replied without question.
That was one of the reasons why I loved her so. She wasn’t on no fake shit. What she had, she was more than willing to share with me. It had always been that way. If there was only two pieces of bread left, we split it and made ghetto-one-slice sandwiches. If she came across a dollar, then she changed it out and we both had fifty cents. I knew that she would give me her last, and it made me love her even more.
“Where you going?”
“I’ve got to stop by the mall and pick up a phone. I answered the phone earlier this morning, and Murder kind of flipped,” I said.
“Oh, that ain’t shit. He only gives that number to people he does business with. Don’t worry about it. Even he takes his personal calls on a cell phone. Did he come at you wrong?” she asked, getting defensive.
“No, it wasn’t like that. He just let me know not to answer it. He’s good. I like him. I think he’s cool people,” I said, calming her down.
“Well, I’m chilling today. You can call me if you need me. My keys are on the table. Don’t crash my shit, Miamor! Your ass probably can’t even drive!” she said jokingly.
“Bitch, I got my L’s. I took the class in lockup for having good behavior,” I answered as I went to dress.
“You? Good behavior? I know you’re lying now,” Anisa said. “Not one scratch. Mia! I’m not playing!” she warned, her voice following me out of the room.
She knew me all too well, because there wasn’t a damn thing legal about me behind a wheel, but I was anxious to spin the block. I just wanted to get out and spread my wings.
Putting on brand new Seven jeans, red stilettos, and a white Ralph Lauren top, I dressed and applied MAC cosmetics. I admired myself in the mirror. Everything about me screamed fly, and I knew it. I was only eighteen, so yes, I was arrogant as hell and itching to get into something.
Before I could even hit the door, Anisa stopped me.
“Run them L’s, Miamor. I want to see your license before you hop in my car,” she said seriously as she sat on the floor in front of the coffee table, rolling a spliff. Murder was stretched out on the couch behind her, his hat dipped low, pistol on his waistline, and flipping the channels on the 72-inch plasma TV.
“Anisa, ain’t nobody gon’ crash your car. Stop tripping. I’m just going to the mall,” I pleaded.
“I’ll take her. I’m going that way anyway. I got to pick up a new joint for that job I’m into tonight,” Murder said as he stood.
“Fine by me, long as my shit come back in one piece,” Anisa said. “I’ll teach you how to drive later this week, and take you to handle the official paperwork. The last thing you need is to run into Jake out there with no license. You just got out. I’m just trying to keep you out, sis.”
I rolled my eyes. She could tell I had an attitude. Anisa knew she was wrong for sticking me with a babysitter, but I obliged and followed Murder out of the condo. We didn’t talk until we got to the parking lot. He tossed me her keys and gave me a smile.
“I’m driving?” I asked in surprise.
“Fuck I look like, your chauffer?” he asked smoothly as he stepped into the car. “Anisa’s your big sister. She’s overprotective. I’ma teach you how to drive.”
I was geeked and all smiles as I got into Anisa’s car. Murder leaned his seat back and put one foot on the dash. “Do you!” he said with a grin.
I turned the ignition and adjusted the seat. Anisa was a little bit taller than me. Once I was comfortable, I put the car in reverse and backed out slowly. My heart was beating out of my chest, only because Anisa’s ass had made me nervous.
“Relax, you’re good, ma. You control the car, not the other way around,” Murder reassured.
I nodded my head, took a deep breath and switched gears to drive before pulling out of the parking lot. Murder was silent as I crept down the streets of New York. Impatient drivers flew past me and I stuck up my middle finger as they drove by, causing Murder to laugh. “What?” I asked as I laughed too.
“Nothing, ma… nothing at all. Concentrate on the road. Fuck whoever’s behind you,” he said.
I put in a CD, and the sounds of R &B filled the car. The music eased some of my apprehension, and I relaxed behind the wheel, as my foot became heavier on the gas pedal. Before you knew it, I was cruising, snapping my fingers to the beat, while Murder rode shotgun, never interrupting my flow. The fact that he trusted my driving made me trust myself, and all of my fears went out of the window. I was whipping through the ‘hood like I had been doing it for years. I was on cloud nine as I listened to Keyshia Cole’s latest joint. I had never been in a relationship before, so I couldn’t relate to the lyrics in the song, but it didn’t stop my head from spinning from the feelings homegirl was screaming through the speakers. I couldn’t see myself giving my heart to anybody, but I was feeling the song as if my heart had been broken a thousand times. Before I knew it, I was pulling into the mall.
“See, it’s easy,” Murder stated. He had to be the coolest nigga I’d ever met. He was so laid back, yet his demeanor was so ‘hood. “Come on, don’t have me in this mu’fucka all day. You can hit up all the shoe shops and shit with Nis. But me and you, we in and out. Cool?”
“Okay,” I responded, but in and out became a day full of me tearing up the mall and Murder carrying my bags. I couldn’t help it. The little shopping spree that Anisa had given me the day before hadn’t quenched my thirst.
Murder wanted to complain, but he didn’t. I could tell from the look on his face that shopping wasn’t really his thing. He allowed me to shop until I grew tired, and I felt like I had a personal bodyguard with me the way he was mean mugging niggas who were trying to get at me.
“You ready to leave?” I asked. “We’ve been here all day and you haven’t bought one thing.”
He sighed and gave me a half smile. “Nah, go ahead. Get whatever you want, ma,” he said. “It’s on me.”
I was like a kid in a candy store, picking up everything that I had neglected to get when I had gone shopping with Anisa. By the time I was done, it was dark outside, and as we walked to the car, Murder asked, “You hungry?” “I could eat,” I responded.
Murder put the bags in the trunk and walked around to the driver’s side.
“I’m not driving?” I asked.
He put his hand up and I tossed him the keys. “Nah, I don’t got time to coach you through it right now, sis. I got to get to my man before his spot close. Then we’ll go grab some food. Call Anisa and see if she’s hungry.”
I called Anisa, and she declined our invitation to dinner. “I don’t feel like getting dressed. Y’all go ahead. Just bring me back something,” she said.
I agreed, and then disconnected the call with her. “She said bring her something back,” I told Murder.
I reached for the radio to turn it up, but Murder popped my CD out and tossed it in the back seat. “Driver picks
