Status

I had two no-license tickets—one in Missouri and one in Kansas. Then I got two letters in the mail—one stated that Missouri was handing the warrant over to Kansas, and the other stated that Kansas was handing the warrant over to Missouri. I’m confused! Are they canceled, or did they just trade?”

I started laughing really hard. Completely out of my element. Then he started telling me about his homeboy that would catch the bus over his house and then ask for a ride home. A tight pain gripped my gut from laughing so hard.

“One time I tried to outsmart him,” Marley continued. “I left the house early on his ass. But this Negro made the bus driver cut me off!”

“Marley, please stop,” I laughed. “I can’t take—”

Suddenly, I was yanked off my stool by the arm.

“What the hell are you doing?” Gideon asked me menacingly.

The sudden movement made me a little dizzy. And then I realized that, in the seven months I’d known Gideon, he’d never put his hands on me like that.

“Gideon, are you crazy?” I snapped at him.

“No, are you crazy? Rodrick is right upstairs. If he sees you talking to one of these niggas in his business partner’s club, somebody will get fucked up.”

“Oh, so it’s okay for him to do whatever he wants to do?”

Marley stood up. “You okay, Tyesha?”

“She’s fine,” Gideon told him.

“I’m fine,” I said.

Marley sat back down but kept an eye on me.

“Where’s Kylie?” Gideon asked me.

“With my momma. I’m here to settle this shit between me and Rodrick,” I said loudly over the music. “I’m tired of his bullshit.”

“No, you not. You never will be. Go on home before you get in trouble.”

“I thought you were on my side, Gideon.”

“I’m on my side. I’m worried about me. If Rodrick comes down here and fucks shit up, I’ma be forced to fuck shit up wit’ him. Because I can’t let nothing happen to him. We sell dope together. He’s my investment.”

I was surprised by what I said next: “So now you mad because I wouldn’t kiss you! You don’t like me no more, huh?”

“It’s not because you wouldn’t kiss me. I don’t like you because you weak. You let Rodrick walk all over you because yall got a child together. I don’t like weak bitches.”

“I’m weak now?”

“Stupid weak,” he said firmly. “And gettin’ weaker.”

“I’ma show you weak. Where’s Rodrick?”

“He’s upstairs right now. He’ll be down—”

I stormed off, jostling through the thick crowd. Holding the rail, I climbed the metal steps up to the next floor. There was a big, bearded man in an argyle sweater standing outside the door I needed to get in.

He started to hold his hand up. Then he squinted at me. “Tyesha?”

“Yes, is Rodrick in there?”

I had no idea who this big man was. They rotated security all the time. I figured he knew me the same way everybody else I didn’t know knew me—through Rodrick or The Site. Or both.

“I know you’re Rodrick’s BM,” he said, “but I can’t let you in right now.”

“Why not?”

“They’re handling business, you feel me?”

“I bet they are. That’s why he just called me and told me to come down,” I lied.

“He did?”

“Yes, I have his phone with his contacts.”

“Aw, yeah, he was trippin’ earlier about losing it. My fault, cutie.” He turned the knob and held the door open for me. “Straight down the hall, make your first right.”

The thick door shut on its own when I entered the hallway. As I walked down to the room, I heard one man’s voice speaking in a monotonous tone. It was Rodrick’s. I started speed walking.

“…and we thank You for getting these bricks here safely. We ask You, Lord, to bless all of us as we traffic this product that came from Your Earth. We ask for Your protection and Your strength to protect us from the captors…”

I was awed that Rodrick had the whole room holding hands in prayer. They were standing around a huge table stocked with what looked like plastic-wrapped bricks of weird colored marijuana—light and dark green hairs, dirty oranges. And the room had a pungent smell that I could only compare to animal crackers. I had planned to rush in on him and beat his head in for even thinking about changing his relationship status without giving me a warning, but I could wait until he was finished with his prayer. I’d give him that courtesy.

“…and keep us from being bound. Because You teach us, Lord, that Your Word is not bound. We also ask You to protect our families as we go through our trials and tribulations. We ask You to touch Skooly’s brother’s heart and restore his consciousness as he recovers from his gunshot wound. We ask You to watch over our girlfriends and wives—and my soon-to-be wife and our 4-year-old daughter—as we risk our lives day in and day out to shelter them.”

My bottom lip hung in shock. He referred to me as his soon-to-be-wife in front of all of his friends, and seemed so earnest about it. I wasn’t on fire like I was when I walked up the steps, but I was still sizzling.

“We know, oh Lord, that we sin and walk in ways that aren’t Your way,” Rodrick continued, “but we ask you to show us Your way and guide us out of this game one day. We have so much to be thankful for and we praise You and…”

One of the phones in my pocket beeped. And one of the men at the side of the table nearest me turned his head and I was noticed for the first time. He looked at me curiously—part what-are-you-doing-in-here, and part damn-you-look-good. I mouthed the word “sorry” and left the room.

With my back against the hallway wall, still listening to Rodrick finish up his prayer, I found which phone went off.

It was his.

And he had a notification.

I pressed the icon that took me to his messages. There was one from none other than the infamous Angela youngandfly Serrano. My anger tightened again as I read what she posted in his private inbox:

Angela youngandfly Serrano: hey handsome I’m outside the club right now standing in this long-ass line. can u come get me in or do I have to pay? U better get me in VIP in the next 2 minutes or I’ma leave with this brotha standing in front of me who smells like some of ur good-ass weed #ticktock

The ho was outside! I whisked down the hall and struggled out the thick door. I paced down the metal steps—I think Gideon saw me coming down. So I hurriedly pushed my way through the crowd. I got out the front door and saw the line of people stretching as far back as I could see.

“Is it packed in there?” a guy near the front of the line asked.

I ignored him and started walking quickly down the line, scanning the faces of the girls, giving them each a one-second glance.

Where the fuck are you, bitch?

Walking faster down the line, I saw a few light-skinned girls that could have resembled Angela youngandfly Serrano in the face, but none had the body to match. Angela’s breasts were huge, according to the images in her photo album. And her butt was just as big.

Then I saw someone step out of line in a hurry, about thirty feet ahead of me. It was a girl that gave me a fleeting look of shock, wearing a dress far too small for her thickness. When the girl speed-walked down the sidewalk, her tush wobbled within her tight skirt, struggling to stay tucked in.

I was almost sure it was Angela!