Around the Way Girls

Home > Other > Around the Way Girls > Page 9
Around the Way Girls Page 9

by Chunichi


  Then they pulled out some Grey Goose, and I downed that shit too. Me and Danada were on the floor popping our asses for all of them. I wanted to impress Gutter, so I popped as hard as I could, until I could feel my booty slapping against my back.

  Weed smoke flowed from his mouth, and he bopped his head to the music, but he wasn’t paying me no mind.

  But I can tell you whose eyes were on me, both Murder and Li’l Murder, despite the fact that Danada was going in for Li’l Murder and trying her damnedest to get his attention in that house.

  “So y’all just gonna tease us?” Li’l Murder asked.

  We both continued to dance.

  “When y’all gonna stop bullshitting and really dance for us? Or do we have to kick y’all hoes out and go to a real strip club?”

  I looked at Murder, whose eyes bore into mine. Nervous, I put my head down.

  Danada shook her head. “Hell no. Y’all aint gotta go to no strip club. Right, D?”

  I nodded and continued to twist my body.

  “Just say what y’all want us to do, and we down,” Danada told them.

  “Take them muthafuckin’ clothes off, for one thang . . . if y’all really trying to impress a nigga,” Li’l Murder said.

  Danada stripped down to her bra and panties, and I followed suit. Then she stood on a couch and continued dancing.

  I took another puff of the weed and stood on the couch next to her. Fuck that! She wasn’t going to outdo me. I didn’t have on a pair of thongs like Danada, but I worked my ass to the song

  “Some Bomb Azz (Pussy)” by Tha Dogg Pound, so that my panties disappeared in the crack of my ass.

  Meanwhile, Danada was crouched down, and her booty was popping.

  I stood and bent my upper body entirely over, so my ass was poking out. I even pulled down my panties. Fuck it! What I was doing felt good, so why not go with it?

  Just then I felt fingers prodding my pussy. Then a tongue. And the shit felt so good, unlike that shit Otis did to me. I glanced up and saw Danada standing with her hands on her hips, staring at me angrily, because all the niggas were crowded around me.

  I shrugged and chuckled, enjoying that shit. I split my thighs apart farther and felt a finger plunge deeper into me. Then I felt a tongue flicker into my clit again, and a hand smacked my behind.

  Suddenly, a glass of water was tossed in my face. At first, I thought it was Danada, hating. But when I shook my face, wiped it away, and opened my eyes, I saw the dark-skinned lady from earlier. Trina was standing in front of me, an angry look on her face, like she was going to fuck me up.

  She shouldn’t have done that, or maybe after she tossed that water on me, she should have broke, because Murder came after her and swung a closed fist, catching her in her jaw. She grabbed her faced and fell to the floor.

  “Naw. Get up, bitch! You wanna disrespect my company. Now you gonna get disrespected.” Murder snatched her up by her hair.

  She yelled out, “But she up in here disrespecting my house. I pay the bills in here.”

  “Bitch, I don’t give a fuck!” He punched her in her stomach.

  From the corner of my eye, I saw Danada putting her clothes on, all the while mean-mugging me.

  Reluctantly, I started putting mine on too, while Li’l Murder and Gutter were laughing at Trina getting her ass whipped. Murder was so into fucking her up, he didn’t notice us about to slip through the door.

  “Say something else, bitch!”

  Even though she didn’t, he hit her anyway.

  I followed after Danada.

  “Where y’all going?” Murder said. “Y’all ain’t gotta leave.”

  We sat back on the couch, and I blew some more trees.

  When we left Murder’s house, Danada didn’t speak a single word to me. I didn’t give a fuck, though. I simply got on the bus and went to the back like we usually did. But she didn’t sit nowhere near me. I giggled to myself and kept singing, “Bitch, you got some bomb-ass pussy.”

  Chapter 5

  When I made it home, I was disappointed as hell to see my punk-ass daddy and his ho. The house stank, as usual, of beer and piss. My daddy would get so drunk, he would forget that the living room wasn’t a bathroom and would piss right on the couch, or his ho of a girlfriend would bring her johns home to service them. And my daddy always tried to tell me she was a fucking bartender at The Alibi, a bar on the North Side of Long Beach. Shit, that bitch was a ho-tender.

  “Where the fuck you been?” Rhonda demanded.

  I wanted to say, “None of your muthafuckin’ business,” but I told her, “I was at my friend’s house. Why?” I sat down on the carpet. Wasn’t no way I was going to sit on the couch, which was infested with roaches, piss, and pussy.

  “The dishes needed to be done, that’s why!”

  “Well, why didn’t you do them?”

  Rhonda was a fucking lie. She probably wanted to slip somebody else in my room to make some quick money.

  It didn’t make no sense telling my daddy, because he didn’t care. After what Otis did to me, I had told him as soon as I saw him, and he said, trying to stand his drunk ass up without falling, “If you looking for some muthafuckin’ attention, you coming to the wrong fuckin’ person, so go on with your lies, girl.”

  “But, Daddy, I’m not lying. She even got money for it.”

  “Mm-mm. If she got some muthafuckin’ money, then why the fuck didn’t she share it with me?”

  After that, I left the shit alone. I could have chalked his response up to him being drunk, and maybe, just maybe, if he was sober, the thought of his homeboy raping his daughter might have incited him to go postal. Truth was, I was scared that if I did approach him when he was sober that the response would be the same. What kid wanted to feel like their own daddy didn’t care if a grown-ass man violated them?

  Rhonda’s loud voice snapped me back to the present. “Little bitch, you better stop getting smart with me. You don’t pay no bills in this muthafucka.”

  I rolled my eyes at her.

  She looked at my daddy. “You see this little ho?”

  He ignored her and me both.

  “Without me, y’all wouldn’t have that EBT card, and you wouldn’t have Section 8.”

  She gave me an angry look. What the fuck did my daddy see in her ass? She was fucking six feet, towering over him, and damn near bald. And I don’t mean bald where you had short hair. Literally ninety percent of her head was shiny bald, with a patch of bleach fuzz here and there. She said she had alopecia. To me, it was a combination of crack and trying to be something her black ass wasn’t—a blonde. And all her teeth were rotted out and loose. I was just waiting for the day she would eat a sandwich or take a bite of an apple and they all gave way.

  And she had a combination of scars and brown blotches all over her face. Her eyes were always bloodshot red and so huge, the bitch should have invested in some stunna shades. She was rocking the Bobby Brown “lip thing,” where your mouth can’t keep still from all the crack you smoked, and her lips were always outstretched or twisted to one side, like they had a life of their own.

  Her body was even sadder than her face. Her breasts sat on her stomach, her ass sagged down to her thighs, and her legs were covered with all kinds of bruises. Let’s not even discuss her kneecaps. Her way of keeping herself up was using nail polish on her manly feet and hands, and putting on lipstick.

  But these men out here liked something about her. I’ll bet her pussy was so loose, you could put about ten dicks in her at one time.

  But my dad wasn’t much better, wearing the same dirty, dingy clothes every day. They say he used to be a handsome man, but he had a set of naps that sat on his head, never shaved, and always smelled like liquor. In fact, I didn’t see any resemblance between me and him.

  “I need to go to work, and when I come home the fuckin’ dishes better be done.” She flung her ratty purse over her shoulder and slammed the door on her way out.

  I turned to my daddy. �
�Daddy, you know she’s not going to no bar to work, right?”

  He shrugged.

  “I seen her on Pacific Coast Highway the other day.” Pacific Coast Highway, by Long Beach City College, was a ho stroll. “She was getting in some man’s car. That don’t bother you? To know that she has sex with other men for money, Daddy?”

  He turned his bloodshot red eyes on me. “Shit! Diamond, a woman like that is the best to have.”

  “What?”

  “A crackhead is the best woman to have. When she on that shit, whew! You can get her to do whatever you wants. You never miss a meal in your life, and you always get the best head.” He angled his head and winked at me when he said that part about the head.

  Rhonda was dirty on all levels. Shortly after Otis had raped me, I came home from school to find her getting high on the living room couch. When she saw me, she smiled and said, “Sit down.”

  I did, with an attitude.

  “Here, Diamond, try some of this.”

  “Some of what?” I asked, knowing she wasn’t offering me some crack.

  “Do I need to spell it out for your ass? I know Otis gave you some that night.”

  She knew?

  She saw my eyes and smiled. “Your secret is okay with me.” She held the pipe out to me.

  To be honest, just looking at it reminded me of that night when Otis forced it in my mouth. I wanted that high feeling again. My lips were watering, and my fingers were aching to snatch it out of her hand and bring it to my lips.

  Instead, I slapped that shit out of her hand, and the pipe fell to the floor. I refused to become a fucking crackhead.

  “What the fuck! You little bitch!”

  I jumped up, and she chased after me.

  “You made me drop my shit. Diamond, I’m going to fuck you up!”

  I ran straight for the kitchen, where we kept out knives. I should say knife, ’cause we only had one. I snatched it up and aimed it straight for her heart like it was a steak. “Get the fuck away from me, or I will stab your ass!”

  She rocked back and forth, and her eyes were rolling back in her head. How much higher did she need to get? Her crackhead ass backed away. She went behind the couch, dropped to her knees, and started looking for the rocks that fell out of the pipe.

  I left her ass there and walked to my room. But I heard her say, “Your mama is a fuckin’ crackhead too!”

  I came back to the present and shook my head at his nutty ass. “I don’t know what’s wrong with you, Daddy. I don’t get why you would want to be with somebody like her.”

  “You act like you so much better than her. You traveling down her same path. At the rate you going, you and her going to be servicing the same car in no time. You ain’t gonna be no different from your mama.”

  Why does he have to bring that bitch up? But still I wanted to hear. “What you mean?”

  He placed both hands behind his head. “She was a fucking crackhead ho, man, willing to do anything for a set of them chemicals.”

  “Where she at?”

  “How the fuck I know?”

  “Come on, Daddy. How you not gonna know where my mama is? If she ain’t nothing but a crackhead ho like you always say. You don’t make a bit of sense. Yeah, I hate her ass for leaving me here with you. And if I ever run across her ass, I’m gonna send that bitch through it. I’m gonna exact some serious vengance on her ass. But I mean, let’s face it. You don’t do shit for me. And you let Rhonda do whatever she wants to me. And you don’t care. My mama have to care about me some. If she didn’t, why the fuck didn’t she abort me?”

  “’Cause she was too far pregnant with you. That’s why. She didn’t want you, and that’s why she stuck me with your ass. Now get the fuck out of my face! You fuckin’ up my high.”

  I shook my head and went into my room.

  The next day when I went to school, I noticed Danada didn’t meet me at our usual spot, so I ended up by myself. Oh, well . . . if she want to be that way, fuck that bitch!

  As I was walking to the bus stop, she saw me and approached me. “What’s up, girl?” I said.

  “Li’l Murder wanted me to tell you that they havin’ a hood party, and they want you to come on Friday.”

  “Aww shit!” She didn’t share my excitement. “What the fuck is your problem?” I demanded.

  “You know what my problem is.”

  “If I knew, why the fuck I ask?”

  “You know I liked Li’l Murder, and you was letting him touch all over you.”

  “Girl, I didn’t know who that was. I was high, and I can’t see behind me. I like Gutter anyway, not Li’l Murder.”

  Her face softened. “I don’t hang with hoes I can’t trust. If you down with me, you down with me.” She studied me before asking, “So you down with me?”

  “Girl, yes. I would never betray you. Now, are we going to the party or not?”

  She smiled. “Yeah, I got this fly-ass dress I’m wearing. What about you?”

  “Girl, you know I ain’t got shit,” I said in a disappointed tone. It was too short notice to go get a camera. I had already worn my new outfit for the week on Monday.”

  She laughed as we continued our walk home.

  Chapter 6

  I was surprised to see that Danada didn’t show up at school the next day and even more surprised she wasn’t at the bus stop to go to the East Side. But the bottom line was, I was going with or without her. I instead saw her friend Tameka, tall and skinny, with a wide gap between her thighs. No titties, no ass, but she had a thick-ass ponytail and some light brown eyes.

  She plopped down next to me. “Where Danada?”

  “I don’t know, girl.”

  She sucked her teeth. “We suppose to go over to Murder’s house.”

  “Oh. I didn’t know you were going.”

  “You goin’?”

  “Yep.”

  “Well, can I roll with you?”

  I didn’t feel like I needed her or Danada to go with me. I was a big girl. “That’s cool.”

  The bus pulled up, and me and Tameka hopped on. We mobbed to the back, like me and Danada normally would, and as usual, chicks were staring.

  “Hi, haters.” I waved like I was a beauty pageant winner.

  Tameka laughed loudly, as we both settled in the back of the bus.

  I started singing that Snoop Dogg song, “Some Bomb Azz (Pussy)” and Tameka started singing it with me.

  When the bus made another stop, who else could get on but the girl me and Danada had beat up. She quickly put her head down when she spied me, and took a seat in the front of the bus. One of her eyes was closed shut, she had a bandage over her nose, and both of her lips were swollen.

  I covered my mouth and laughed loudly. “Damn, Tameka! Did you see that bitch?’

  “Girl, who didn’t? Somebody fucked her up.”

  “We whipped that bitch ass, me and Danada!”

  People on the bus turned around and looked at us.

  Tameka laughed.

  “Bitch got what she deserved.” I swallowed the lump in my throat.

  Tameka clapped her hands together. “You cold for that, girl.”

  “We stomped that bitch. You see her eye?”

  That’s when some old lady had to take sympathy on the girl because she started crying. The old-ass lady looked like she could barely stand without her cane. “Why don’t you leave that girl alone?” she asked me.

  My eyes shot to her. Why did she have to go there? Now every fucking body on the bus was staring my way, waiting for my comeback. I stood to my feet and yelled, “What the fuck your old ass getting in this for anyway?”

  “Because that girl ain’t said nothing to you. That’s why, now. You think you so damn tough. I want you to do something to me. I was on the bus that day you and your friend was picking with her.” The old lady was on her feet too.

  “You know what . . . Fuck you! You old raggedy bitch! You ain’t too old to get your ass whipped too!”

 
“I wish you would, honey. I’m from the old school. It may take a village to raise you, but it only take one of my fists to knock your ass cold out!” she said, swinging her cane on every word of the phrase, “knock your ass cold out.”

  I looked at Tameka’s ass. She didn’t say shit.

  The bus driver said, “Both of you need to either sit down or exit the bus.”

  “I paid my fare. Ain’t no fast-ass, disrespectful gal gonna make me waste my money.

  I sucked my teeth and plopped down in my seat, my arms crossed. Although I was embarrassed, I didn’t want anybody to see that the old lady had checked me, so I started singing the line from one of Tha Dogg Pound’s songs, “Bitch, you got some bomb azz pussy.”

  Tameka’s punk ass started talking to me again. She was a big disappointment. At least Danada talked shit and was down to ride. This ho was scareder than a mouse.

  “I wonder why Danada didn’t come today. All she talked about was going to this party when I talked to her on the phone yesterday,” she said.

  “Who knows? Who fuckin’ cares?”

  Her eyes got wide. “You don’t like Danada, Diamond?”

  I shrugged. “She all right. But she be straight hatin’.”

  “Why you say that?”

  “Because! She be low-key hatin’ on me. We suppose to be friends, but some things you just see. She pretty, and she is insecure. And I ain’t got no time to play Dr. Phil to any random ho. If you got issues, you need to take a fuckin’ self-esteem class, or just end it. Fuck it!”

  “You think Danada is pretty?”

  “I mean, she all right. She ain’t ugly, but, truth be told, if she didn’t have that light skin and long hair, she would be average. And the rest of the world wouldn’t be calling her pretty.”

  Tameka giggled

  “But the bottom line is this—You don’t look better than me, and her body ain’t better than mine.” I was slapping one hand into the other when I said that. “And that is why she is jealous of me. I got the beauty and the confidence. I can walk into a room, and it could have twenty Beyoncé’s in there, and the niggas would still want me. That’s why that bitch actin’ funny. When we was at Murder’s house, all the niggas were on me.” I started moving in my seat excitedly as I talked.

 

‹ Prev