for a few weeks, even a few months, but to be draggin’ this shit out for
“Well, guess what. Maybe da nigga didn’t care ’bout me, but
“I watched my moms bury two of my sistas in da same month, Kat,” this bitch says, changin’ the subject. “And you didn’t even have da decency to show up to ya own moms’ funeral. Why?”
I tilt my head. “I had my funeral for that bitch a long time ago, so that shit ya’ll had for ’er was only a formality.”
She frowns at me. “I feel sorry for you.”
“Oh, no, Boo. Don’t feel sorry for me. Betta yet, don’t feel nuthin’ for me. I’m good; trust.”
“Okay, if you say so. I know I’m not.”
“Well, that sounds personal,” I say, surprised that I’m still standin’ here entertainin’ this ho. After all these years, this is the first time we’ve talked wit’out the otha snappin’ off.
“Life is too fuckin’ short for da bullshit,” she says, turnin’ ’er attention back to the nursery. “In da grand scheme of things, this corny-ass beef you got wit’ me is a fuckin’ waste of energy. So, trust, sweetie. On e’erything I love, I’m done beefin’ wit’ you. Movin’ forward I’m not gonna get into it wit’ you ova dumb shit. I have a beautiful lil’ nephew my sista left behind. You and ’im are da only links I have left to ’er. You wanna stay hurt, stay hurt. You don’t wanna have shit to do wit’ ya family, then don’t. But…”
Okay, now a bitch is ready to bring it to this ho and tell ’er to suck the shit outta my ass ’cause she ain’t gonna eva get ’er hands on that baby. But I know a real bitch gotta know when to play it smart. She gotta know when to keep ’er mouth shut and let’a bitch keep flappin’ ’er cum trap. And, in listenin’ to this ho rattle on, the one thing a bitch is finally certain of is that that baby layin’ up in there wit’ all them tubes in ’im, ain’t goin’ no- muthafuckin-where but wit’ me. And if I gotta make sure e’ery last one’a them hoes gets bodied to make that happen, I will.
“…that baby in there is gonna be surrounded by his family. And we will raise ’im and love ’im, no matter what.”
“I plan to,” she says, glancin’ ova at me.
I smirk. “Bitch, you’re delusional. But good luck.”
A WEEK LATER, I’VE LANDED AT NORFOLK INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT, and now I’m pickin’ up my rental to take the hour-and-a-half drive to Ahoskie, North Carolina. It’s where Cash booked my hotel room. It’s also a few miles away from the town Como. A bitch is amped to get at this nigga swiftly, then be on the next thing smokin’ back to Jersey. But shuttin’ his lights is gonna pose a problem since the nigga only leaves his spot at night. So a bitch gotta lay low and work the area for a few days ’til I can run up on ’im. Cash hipped me to these spots called Shot Houses—homes of muhfuckas who sell drinks ’n shit. Where they play music, cards and shoot pool and whatnot.
I get into my rental, pullin’ out my Tom-Tom GPS system, typin’ in my destination.
My cell rings. It’s Chanel.
“What’s good, hooker?”
“Shit. A bitch is bored as fuck.”
“Poor thing,” I say, mergin’ onto US 13 South toward I-264 West. Then outta nowhere a bitch has this crazy idea to bring Chanel down here to help me work these country coon-muhfuckas ova. I quickly shake the shit outta my head.
She laughs. “Fuck you.”
“Where’s Divine?”
“He’s on his way home.”
“Then let that nigga be da one fuckin’
“Whateva. I’m comin’ to Jersey to chill for a few days. You home.”
“Sorry, sweetie, I’m outta town.”
She sucks ’er teeth. “Figures. When ya ass comin’ back?” I tell ’er in a few days. She grunts. “Mmmph, you always dippin’ on a bitch.”
“Awww, let me find out you feelin’ all salty ’n shit,” I tease. “You know I love you, Sugah. But get ova ya’self. I need you to do me a fava.”
“Wassup?”
I tell ’er I need ’er to go up to the hospital to spend time wit’ the baby ’til I get back. I tell ’er I finally came up wit’ a name for ’im. “Girl, you know I got you. What you gonna name ’im?” I tell ’er I decided to go wit’ Zaire. “Ohhhhkaaaaay now. I like.”
“Me too,” I say, smilin’.
“So who you outta town wit’, Allstar?”
It dawns on me that I haven’t heard from the muhfucka in’a couple’a days. I’ve been so sidetracked wit’ my own shit that I hardly noticed ’til now.
“Realllllly? Ya’ll still cool, right?”
“I guess. Like I said, I ain’t heard from ’im.”
“Hmmm, da nigga must be preoccupied.”
“Whateva. Da nigga ain’t my man.”
“I feel you, boo. Da only man you gonna need in ya life is Zaire. Fuck’a Allstar or any otha muhfucka.”
“And you know this, trick,” I say, laughin’. She asks how my visit went wit’ them CPS bitches. “You know I kept it real cute wit’ them hoes. They gonna do a corny-ass background check on’a bitch, but I ain’t sweatin’ it.”
“I know that’s right. Then what?”
“Then a bitch gonna be sittin’ up in somebody’s parentin’ class,” I tell ’er.
“And I’ma be right there wit’ ya, boo.” I smile. Tell ’er how much I love ’er freak-ass. Tell ’er how much ’er friendship means to me. “Ho, let me find out ya ass gettin’ all sappy on a bitch.”
I suck my teeth. “Bitch, puhleeze.”
“Well, I know ya stank-ass ain’t tryna get no pussy. Or are you?”
“Bitch, you must be tryna get ya fronts knocked.” She starts laughin’. “Hahahaha hell, tramp. You done said this a few times. So keep shit real. You a twat muncha?” She tells me no. Tells me she’s fantasized ’bout it, but hasn’t done it—yet. Tells me Divine wants to have a threesome wit’ ’er and anotha chick. I frown at the thought of that nigga rabbit-fuckin’ two bitches. But, keep my trap shut. A bitch ain’t tryna get reeled into any of their sex fantasies, so I cut the shit short. “Mmmph, do you, boo. Look. Let me get up off this line. I’ma hit you up when I touch Jersey.” We go back and forth poppin’ shit a few more minutes, then disconnect. I decide to hit up Allstar up to see what’s good wit’ his ass. He answers on the fifth ring.
“Hey wassup?” he says, soundin’ all nonchalant ’n shit.
I frown.
I can’t front. A bitch is feelin’ some kinda way. I grunt. “Mmmmph. You aiight?”
“Yeah, I’m cool. Kinda goin’ through some shit right now, but it’s all good.”
