Don't Mess With the Carter Boys: The Carter Boys 3

by Desirée

  “A’ight then, we in business.” He smiled, stepping on the gas, trying to speed off down the dark street.

  Let me tell y’all, when I say I haven’t laughed so hard at a couple as much as I had at Trell and Tyree? They were the entertainment for the night. Our first stop was this shady-looking house over on the east side of Atlanta. Took us an hour just to get there because we stopped to grab drinks. That almost resulted in a damn fight in itself, because while Trell was pumping the gas, Tyree, myself, and Olivia went to grab the drinks. One high-school nigga thought it was funny to poke fun at Tyree because he was gay, and an obvious gay at that. Shit, he was just being himself.

  Walking to the back of the store where the good shit was known to be, the teenager and his girlfriend started snickering behind us. “Aye,” he called out, and we all looked back. Dude had the nerve to have jeans tighter than mine, hair dyed blond, and a sweater with Pokemon on it, like that shit was cool. What the fuck was up with the fashion these days? The girl was trying to pull him along, but even she was laughing.

  “Why y’all niggas be thinking you can be girls?” he started, and Tyree’s eyes grew wide.

  “Don’t pay him any attention, Ty. Just keep going,” I said, pushing him farther back.

  “I mean, I swear niggas be thinking they can try me, and think I won’t say nothing, though.” He laughed. “Little boy, don’t get hurt with that cute Pokemon shirt on.”

  “Just ignore it,” Olivia said before turning her attention to the boy. “Nigga, you think that shit is funny? You must be gay yourself if you notice my brother before you notice yo’ own bitch. Keep yo’ eyes on her, bruh.”

  “Excuse me?” the girlfriend snapped as I laughed. Olivia was probably the biggest stuck-up, prudest girl I knew, but her last name was still Carter, and she was raised with seven boys. My girl knew how to turn it on and turn up if she had to.

  “Nah, hold up, hold up,” the boy started. “Who the fuck is you? Ain’t nobody in here gay but that tall mothafucka.”

  “And what, son? Okay, so I’m gay! And what?” Tyree snapped with a clap of his hands as he pushed past us to stand in front of him, New York coming out heavy. “Nigga, look at you! You half my size, son. I eat bitches like you fo’ breakfast. Don’t come for me or my girls. My nigga is at the car right now, and if he finds out you fucking around with me or them, it’s going to be a problem. Yo, let’s go,” he said, grabbing Olivia and me. “Get these drinks and go. I don’t have time for y’all country shit tonight. The gayest city in the world, but the dumbest niggas, like fo’ real.”

  “He’s young, so he don’t know any better,” I said as we grabbed a bottle, paid for it, and walked out.

  Trell stood leaning against the Hummer, still filling up the tank. He started dancing at the sight of the brown paper bag in my hand.

  “We turning up!” he yelled excitedly.

  “While yo’ alcoholic ass out here desperate for a drink,” Tyree snapped as I laughed, “we dealing with reckless niggas in the store!”

  “We handled it, though,” Olivia said, taking the bottle, already popping it open.

  The bells chimed. I turned around, seeing the boy and the girl walking out, still talking shit.

  “What the fuck yo’ big-mama ass looking at?” the girl snapped.

  My head cocked back. Nooo, bitch. And I just got dumped tonight too? You got the right one today.

  “Who the fuck you calling—” I tried to reach for her hair when Tyree grabbed me, arms around my waist, and easily pulling me away. “Let me go! She wanna talk big shit! Let me go! No problem beating somebody’s kid tonight!”

  “Girl, it ain’t worth it!” Ty screamed as the girl walked off with a flip of her hair, bouncing her bony ass back to the car, thinking she was cute. The boy just stood there, smirking hard at Tyree.

  “Bruh, I don’t get how you can sleep with another nigga.”

  “You obviously must wanna find out with yo’ curious ass!” Ty snapped, grabbing me by the arm. “Let’s go before I really get heated.”

  We started walking back, with Olivia at the car, telling Ontrell what happened.

  “Nah, but I bet you wanna suck this dick, though!” he yelled out.

  Before Tyree could say anything, Ontrell rushed up, pulling his jeans up, strutting like he was ready to try something. The teenager, still smirking at Tyree, had a rude awakening when Trell got in his face instead.

  “You hitting on my nigga?” Trell snapped, invading all types of personal space. The kid nearly fell back as his eyes grew wide in fear, looking up at Trell with a shake of his head. Olivia used to always tell me when I was in California about how Ontrell caught people off guard because no one would suspect that he was gay. He didn’t flaunt it around, but he didn’t hide it either, and he still hit on girls just because he could pull them too.

  “Nah, fuck nah, I wasn’t—”

  “You sure? Because from what I heard, you just came at my dude like you wanted him, bruh,” Trell pressed.

  Ty rolled his eyes with a smack of his teeth, trying to pull him back. “Baby, this li’l boy ain’t ready tonight. Come on. We’re going to be late,” Tyree pressed, trying to pull Trell away, but Trell only had eyes for the teen.

  “I didn’t—I didn’t mean to—to come at him like that,” he stuttered, scared out of his mind because Trell was not letting up, even though I could see he was just fucking with the boy at this point.

  “Next time you feeling like you wanna run yo’ mouth,” Trell said, lifting his sweatshirt up to reveal his gun, “you can run yo’ mouth on this dick.”

  Soon as the boy looked down, he backed up some more before taking off. Trell turned around all smiles, like nothing had happened.

  “It’s fun fucking with straight niggas,” he said, and we all laughed. “Never see that shit coming. Now that the foolishness has begun, can we drink and turn up once more?”

  The next stop was a house party that we were just swinging through, picking up weed and leaving, but we stayed for a bit, enjoying the good vibes. I thought it was going to be gay niggas, but apparently, it was just some hood nigga connect. Everyone knew Ontrell, either from the music group or just locally, so when he stepped in, everyone started to get excited. Music was bumping, and niggas was looking especially cute now that I was on the rebound. And shit, I was horny. I’m not going to even lie to you. I went from getting some on the regular to none at all.

  Oddly enough, nobody really bothered Tyree like I thought. He went off doing his own thing with a few girls that he knew, and he even was cool with some of the guys. I collected a few numbers here and there, but I was ready to move on to the next once we got the weed.

  “Yo, y’all ready to go?” Ontrell asked as he came to Olivia and me standing near the front door. “We got at least two more spots to hit up. I’m tryna roll up in the car, too.”

  “Nigga, you already high.” I laughed, looking at his bright red eyes.

  “Y’all ready?” Tyree said, coming up, already trying to steady his balance as he grabbed Trell’s shoulder. “Shit, let me go before I pass out in this bitch and y’all slick niggas take advantage of a cute bitch like me. Come on, Tay Tay,” he slurred, and I laughed.

  “Ain’t nobody gon’ take advantage of yo’ big ass,” Trell retorted as we piled out of the packed house, back into the cold night. On to the next party!

  We rolled up in the car with these two cracking Olivia and me up to no end. The next stop was another house, this time a lot bigger, like someone with money. Cars were lined up, and people were outside in the cold waiting like it was a club. Shit, we just walked right on in, and whooo! The house was damn near about to collapse the bass was bumping so loud. You couldn’t look nowhere without seeing someone fucking, making out, or dancing a little too hard on each other. The lights were low, but the few lights that did shine showed a lot of people who were out-of-their-minds high. This was more of a gay crowd, with a few white people sprinkled in the mix. Shit, Olivia and
I just took whatever was the drink of the hour and had fun—maybe a little too much fun. Maybe I was high or drunk as fuck; I don’t know.

  My body was numb, but I spotted Olivia on a man’s lap, scraping up a line of white powder before sniffing it up in one breath. My mouth dropped as I looked around for her brother, wondering if he had seen that shit. Looking back, I saw her laughing with another girl, high out of her mind.

  What the fuck? Maybe it ain’t her. Nah. Fuck nah. I was high my damn self, so I could be seeing shit. Let me focus on me and my good time.

  Moving farther into the crowd, I started to get into the music, dancing with different guys. Some were so gay it was like dancing with a woman. Others, like this one nigga who thought he was sexy, tried it with me. I felt his hands coming up in between my legs, and I quickly turned around, looking up at him.

  “Nah, you already know ain’t no dick down there. What you looking for?” I laughed as he leaned in close, hand on my waist.

  “I’m straighter than an arrow, baby. I’m just selling products to these fruity niggas in here. I make the most money off their kind,” he said as I looked at him, smiling. Before I could even protest, he cupped my face, kissing me on the lips, dropping one hand to get in between my legs, pressing against the leggings. Shit, the touch was so unfamiliar, so not Trent, that it turned me on even more. It was different. He backed me into a corner, and we continued to kiss and rub up on each other before he ripped a hole in my leggings, breathing heavy against my ear. I was so out of it that all I could think about was, Fuck Trent. This is why I’m fucking other niggas now. I’m moving on from yo’ lying dog ass.

  “Oh, shit. You feel good,” he breathed, bending down slightly.

  Somehow, we did that shit standing straight up. Maybe we weren’t . . . I don’t know. As soon as I felt him slide in me, I let out a sigh of pleasure. I couldn’t believe I was having sex in the middle of the night at a party in a freak-ass house full of gays. Usher’s song “I Don’t Mind” with Juicy J was playing throughout the house as I started to get into it, trying to throw it back at him. Yet, as soon as I was getting into it, he pulled out quickly, with white shit spitting out in small waves.

  Fucking waste of my time. Clearly. I mean, I got nothing out of that.

  “You good?” he asked, and I laughed, pulling my shirt down before walking off.

  I started navigating throughout the dark crowd, feeling a hand come to my back. I quickly turned around, eyes barely open.

  “Yo, we going to the next spot. Go find Livie,” Trell said as he moved past me with Tyree close behind.

  As soon as we all got in the car, we were fucked up to the point where we were having conversations with each other, but none of us knew what we were talking about, or who we were talking to. How Ontrell drove was a mystery.

  The next spot was just the same, only it was an underground basement–like place with the gayest of the gays in Atlanta. They were mostly men, with a few dressed as women. When I say the moment Trell stepped in and the DJ announced his arrival? These niggas went nuts. He got on stage, spitting a few bars from their latest song, with Tyree standing close by, blending in with the groupies. Olivia and I kept to ourselves, snickering at some of these men dressing like women, doing the most.

  “Girl, I love me some Ontrell,” one guy said as he walked by with another. “Mmmph, only reason I listen to the Carter Boys, just to hear his fine ass.”

  “Who you telling?” the other guy responded as we watched them. Both were wearing tight-ass dresses and heels with weave halfway down their backs.

  I looked at Olivia, and we both burst out laughing against this wall. I couldn’t take niggas like that seriously.

  “What y’all laughing at?” Tyree said, walking over. He started dancing on me, poking his booty out, with me slapping it.

  “These niggas in here fanning over yo’ man,” I said, letting him twerk.

  He rolled his eyes with a wave of his hand. “I’m not worried, baby. I got a ring and a house,” he stated, flashing his black band. “Honey boo, these niggas in here think they can snatch him from me. I am truly not bothered.”

  “I know that’s right,” Olivia said as we laughed, hands coming together in agreement.

  Suddenly, out of nowhere, someone yelled out Tyree’s name so loud over the music that nearly everyone looked around to see where it came from. Tyree immediately took off, moving through the crowd with ease. We tried following, and saw a growing circle form, with two men in the middle trying to fight Ontrell.

  What the fuck? I swear I was too high for this.

  “Aye, yo! We not doing that in here! We just trying to party!” the DJ yelled over the mic as the lights cut on.

  “Take that shit outside!” someone yelled.

  “Boy, wassup?” Ontrell snapped, gripping his jeans from the knees, eyes red and filled with rage. He must didn’t have his gun on him, because if he did, he would have already settled that shit by now. The two guys were steady talking shit, but when Tyree stepped in, it was like a transformation. I hadn’t seen this side of him. Roles switched almost immediately. Tyree and Trell were equally dominant at this moment.

  “Yo, we got a problem?” Tyree asked, voice deep as hell, New York accent thicker than usual as he stood by Ontrell, who was ready, waiting.

  “So, you had to call yo’ li’l boyfriend to come fight.”

  “Son! Don’t do that, B. Address me when you talking to me, mothafucka!” Tyree snapped, stepping closer. “Don’t worry about what my nigga doing!”

  “Call security! Someone call—”

  Tyree wasted no time swinging first on the guy, while Trell took aim at the other dude. Soon, someone else tried to jump in, and I had to damn near keep Olivia from jumping in. These niggas here were too big and too grown for us females to be jumping in that shit. She slapped my hand out the way and came at whoever was going for Ontrell.

  “Olivia!” I called out, trying to grab her as two more niggas jumped in, trying to grab us.

  “Y’all need to back up!” one yelled. “Y’all shouldn’t even be—”

  “Don’t touch!” Olivia yelled, pounding one man in the face who had his arm around Ontrell’s neck. “My brother! Get yo’ fucking hands off him!” she screamed, going in.

  The moment he loosened up a little on his neck, Trell broke free. At the same Tyree handled one nigga, they both went in on the guy that Olivia had. All three of them were trying to hit him as I tried stopping it like a fucking wimp. I was just too high for that shit. They were doing the most right now, and I hadn’t even eaten a damn thing all night! All of this before Thanksgiving, at that.

  After all the bullshit, through everything we’d been through that night, I could honestly say as we made our way to the nearest Waffle House that I would never hang with another gay mothafucka for as long as I lived. Fight at the gas station, fucking dudes at parties, drinking, and popping Lord knows what kind of pills, and more fights—it wasn’t even a gay thing; shit, it was a Carter boy thing. Only Ontrell got into these situations.

  We grabbed a table toward the back, sliding into the booths, bodies bruised up. Ontrell’s hands were bloodied up pretty bad. Tyree’s knuckles looked worse, with a small cut underneath his eye. Olivia had a scratch, and I had a hole in my leggings. What the fuck?

  It was quiet in the restaurant, with barely anyone there. We sat in the booth with me and Trell getting window seats across from each other. A black woman walked up to us with the biggest attitude on her face, until she looked at Ontrell, all smiles.

  “What can I get y’all?” she asked, eyes on for Trell. “Ain’t you from the Carter Boys?”

  “Yeah.” He smiled, licking his lips at her, trying to be cute.

  Tyree slammed his hand down on the table, looking at the woman as I laughed. “Uh, ain’t you the waitress that supposed to ask what the fuck we want to eat?”

  “Bruh, come on—”

  “No! You got me out here, blowing my high because we fight
ing niggas in the club. Like, what the fuck, Trell?” Tyree snapped.

  “Um, can I get . . .” Olivia cut in, trying to sound cute. Her eyes were bloodshot red. “Lemme get an all-star special.”

  “Get four of those, and four Southern classics, three sweet teas, and one hot tea,” Trell ordered, handing her our menus. As soon as she left, we kind of took a moment of silence, just to rethink everything that had happened.

  “Yo, this was a crazy night. Least I made some money off it.”

  “Shut up, Ontrell,” Tyree snapped, mushing him in the head.

  I smiled. “How in the world did y’all meet, anyway?” I pressed.

  They looked at each other at the same time, laughing as Tyree sat up, ready to tell the story.

  “Okay, sooo,” he started, looking up as he thought back. “Damn, baby, we getting old, boo.”

  “I know it,” Trell said, leaning back as he stretched.

  “We both had some mutual friends in common, right? So, one night at the club that all the fine niggas go to, I was with my friend, and he was like, I want you to meet someone. I’m like, bitch, I know you did not bring me here to set me up on no blind date in a damn club. Like, how tacky,” Tyree said, and we laughed. “Anyway,” he said, smacking his teeth, “I was like, who is he? What does he look like? What’s the nigga zodiac sign? So, he was like, his name is Trell. He’s a year younger than us, but blah blah. Whatever. So, we dancing, I’m talking to dudes, when my friend was walks up with this tall, dark-skin nigga with dreads all over the place, walking like he was ready to shoot someone for staring at him the wrong way. I’m like, uhhh! I’m not dating no fucking hood nigga. I’m not into thugs. Never will I—”

  “Lies,” Trell cut in.

  “Whatever,” Tyree retorted, eyes focused on me. “So, he was trying to talk his little game. I gave him the curve because yeah, he was cute, but I don’t find thug niggas appealing. Plus, I’m thinking someone like him has to be on the down low. But I gave him my number anyway, and he was steady calling me, texting me, trying to link up. I’m like, son, I don’t like you. I’m not interested. I don’t have the time.”