A Sip of Hennessy

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A Sip of Hennessy Page 1

by Lucinda John




  © 2019

  Published by Leo Sullivan Presents

  www.leolsullivan.com

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Unauthorized reproduction, in any manner, is prohibited.

  Contents

  1. Hennessy

  2. Kenny

  3. Miami

  4. Hennessy

  5. Miami

  6. Hennessy

  7. Kenny

  8. Miami

  9. Hennessy

  10. Kenny

  11. Hennessy

  12. Miami

  13. Hennessy

  14. Miami

  15. Hennessy

  16. Hennessy

  17. Miami

  18. Hennessy

  19. Miami

  20. Hennessy

  21. Miami

  22. Miami

  23. Hennessy

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  I was a fuck up. My dad was a fuck up, and my mother, yeah, that bitch was an even bigger fuck up for getting pregnant by his ass. It may sound fucked up since if it weren’t for my teenage mother procreating with a grown ass drunk, I wouldn’t be here today, but I was okay with that. I felt I was better off swimming around in a nut sack than to be here on earth anyway.

  For starters, my name was Hennessy Daniels. Neither of my parents’ last name was Daniels, but being the drunk that he was, I was named after my father’s two favorite dark liquors; Hennessey and Jack Daniels. It could have been worse. My name could have been Coke since that’s all my mother knew.

  Rubbing lotion all over my body, I rolled my eyes as my boyfriend smacked my mother around for going through his stash for the fifth time this week. I swear that nigga was stupid as fuck. He knew my mother was a powder head, yet he left his drugs in the house as if he didn’t know how, Akio, the bitch who gave birth to me, got down.

  Slipping my small frame into a pair of yellow distressed skinny jeans, I ran my hand over my B-cup breasts, annoyed by how small they were. At sixteen, I was the only girl in my clique who hadn’t fully developed yet. While my other homegirls sported big breasts, wide hips, and fat asses, I was more on the slim side with little to no curves. Since I was a cheerleader who ran track, I had strong, toned legs with a firm booty that jiggled whenever I bent over to shake that shit. My girls tried to gas me up by referring to me as slim thick , but I knew better. There wasn’t shit thick about my boy body having ass.

  They said self-love was the best love, but I didn’t love myself. Shit, there wasn’t much to love when the only thing I had to offer was a pretty face and a perfect smile. I wasn’t one of those smart bitches in school, and I didn’t see myself going to college. Hell, my idea of being successful was not ending up like my fucked-up mother, even though I was on my way to becoming her. Growing up with a mother who allowed her man to slap her around whenever he was drunk, just to sit at the dinner table to do lines of coke while I sat across from her starving, wasn’t some shit I could look up to.

  Early in life, I learned if I wanted to survive, I had to make shit shake on my own, even if it meant shacking up with a twenty-two-year-old drug dealer to fund my necessities. The fucked up thing about it was my mother knew Kenny, my boyfriend, was too old to be sticking his dick in me, but she didn’t give a fuck. As long as he continued to pay the bills while funding her nasty ass habit, she was Stevie Wonder to whatever we had going on. She even moved out of the master bedroom, just so Kenny and I could have a big enough space.

  The moment Akio pushed me out of her birth canal, I was destined to become exactly what her ass was, a fuck up.

  “I’m getting sick of your mother, dawg!” Kenny barked, interrupting my thoughts.

  “Maybe if you didn’t stash your shit here, she wouldn’t touch it,” I spoke a little too loud.

  “What the fuck did you just say to me?” Getting in my face, Kenny waited for me to repeat myself.

  Standing at 5’4”, Kenny’s six foot frame towered over me as he glared down at me through the slits of his dark eyes. When his face wasn’t scrunched up, Kenny was a fine ass hood nigga with a mouth filled with golds. With blemish-free, golden, honey-colored skin, a low cut that he kept faded on the sides, and minimal facial hair, which consisted of a mustache, a patch of hair underneath his bottom lip, and a baby beard, he reminded me of a tall version of T.I.

  Through my peripheral vision, I could see Kenny’s balled-up fist swinging my way. Before I could rush out of the way, I was caught in the mouth with a vicious blow that sent me crashing into the wall. Cupping my hand under my chin, I caught the blood that gushed from my busted lip before it could stain the ivory-colored carpet, and I got my ass beat for that.

  “You and your bitch ass mother are going to get enough of disrespecting me,” he spat before stepping over me. “I can see it now, Imma end up killing both of y’all, I swear.” He continued to rant as he filed a duffle bag with the drugs he kept stashed in the back of the closet.

  In silence, I sat on the floor, praying that he was done whooping my ass. Today was my first day of school, and I couldn’t afford to miss the day. Although I hated going to school, I loved linking with my girls and bullshitting around. That was the only form of normalcy I had in my life. A deep breath of relief escaped my lips the moment Kenny stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

  Standing to my feet, I rushed to the bathroom to examine the damage done to my mouth. I reached for a clean rag and ran it under hot water before using it to clean the gash on my top lip. Looking in the mirror, I couldn’t stand the weak bitch who looked back at me. Behind my low, hazel colored eyes lay disappointment. After cleaning my cut to the best of my ability, I added an ample amount of nude lip gloss to my plump lips and prayed that none of my girls would notice the damage.

  “You wanted to be grown so bad.” My mother chuckled, leaning her small body against the doorframe.

  To be a coked-out bitch, aside from losing a tremendous amount of weight, Akio didn’t look strung out. She still had all her teeth, and her hair was healthy and long. I mean, she was an ugly ass Asian lady; I wasn’t sure if it was the drugs or not, but I’ve always remembered my mama being ugly as fuck. My father, on the other hand, was a very handsome, short, dark-skinned, Haitian man, whose bright, dimpled smile I had inherited.

  At times, I would just sit back and admire my father, praying that we could go to the mall, get ice cream, do shit that normal fathers and daughters did, but with ways as ugly as his, that never happened. I had no good memories with his drunk ass. On the rare occasion that he would come around, he was either too drunk or busy beating my mama’s ass to acknowledge that he had a daughter. I guess the two things I could thank him for were the good genes he passed down to me and the fact that he never beat or molested me. Aside from that, it was fuck his ass too.

  “Shut the fuck up, bitch!” I spat.

  Reaching for the spray bottle, I filled it with leave-in conditioner and water before shaking it up. Since Kenny hated me wearing weaves, I was forced to go natural. Thankfully, my mane cascaded down the middle of my back with the sickest curl pattern.

  “Where was all that big talk when Kenny was beating your ass?” she taunted me.

  “How about I beat your ass?” Pushing her small frame out of the way, I slammed then locked the door in her face.

  “One day, he’s going to beat you to death.” She chuckled.

  “One day, you’re going to sniff up a bad batch of dope,
and when your dumb ass OD, I’m going to step over your lifeless body like the low down dirty dog you are!” With anger surging through my veins and tears trickling down my face, I saturated my hair with the spray mixture until my wild curls were tamed to my liking.

  After filling in my brows, I applied mascara to my already long, thick lashes before making my way to my bedroom to get dressed. Luckily for Akio, she was done fucking with me. With the amount of anger pent up in my system, I was liable to kill her ass with my bare hands. Shuffling through my clothes, I had no desire to dress up anymore. If it weren’t for me anticipating these few hours away from this house, I would have stayed home from school. Finally, I paired a blue, strapless, fitted maxi dress that stopped above my knee with a nude, teal, and blue floor-length cardigan, and a pair of nude Coach thong sandals that matched my nude Coach bookbag.

  On my way out the door, I noticed Akio had set up a few lines on the coffee table. Knocking the entire table over, I swished my ass out of the house with a huge smile on my face. Kenny had removed his stash of drugs, so Akio’s sorry ass would be forced to take her ass on the hoe stroll to cop more drugs until Kenny decided to bless her again.

  “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, HENNY!” my crew yelled out the moment I joined them on the patio.

  “Oh, wow!” I grinned at the balloons and cupcakes. “Y’all remembered.”

  “Of course, we did! We yo’ girls!” Wilma, my best friend, walked over and draped a Birthday Girl sash around me.

  “Yes, we love you, girl,” Pooh and Jessie chimed in.

  Even though Pooh was Wilma’s cousin and Jessie’s best friend, I was still cool with them both.

  “I’m surprised you didn’t show the fuck out. Not only is today your birthday, but it’s the first day of junior year. Why are you looking basic, bitch?” Jessie asked.

  “Girl, Kenny and my bitch ass mama fucked up my entire mood this morning.” I rolled my eyes.

  “Well, fuck that nigga and that bitch. I think you look bomb as fuck. With that flawless ass tan skin, them alluring chinky eyes, and that gorgeous smile, bitch you killing them on your basic day.” Wilma smirked, tossing shade Jessie’s way.

  Jessie was what you called a but-her-face. At sixteen, she had a body that would have earned her the leading role in Nelly’s Tip Drill video, except her face didn’t match. She was a light skinned girl with a bunch of dark acne marks all over her face, not to mention her oversized mouth filled with crocodile teeth. To be the interesting looking one, she threw more shade than a palm tree.

  “Everybody ain’t able.” I high fived Wilma before entwining my arms around hers.

  “He hit you again?” she whispered. Her face was twisted up in a frown as she waited for me to answer.

  “Yes, I’m really getting sick of this shit. Like, I’m only sixteen, and I feel like I’m a grown woman with these problems.” I sniffled.

  “Leave his ass!”

  “And go where, Wilma? I’m only sixteen.”

  “Shit, come to my house. My mama works so much, she won’t notice that you’re there,” Wilma spoke.

  Stopping our stride, I took a moment to take Wilma in. She had the smoothest chocolate skin I’ve ever seen. Her facial features reminded me of a young version of Keshia Knight Pulliam, with a grown woman body. Wilma was dressed in a pair of denim shorts that did little to conceal her ass with a cropped tank top underneath her red and black flannel shirt. On her feet was a pair of brank new red Chucks.

  From her light beat down to her hair that was cut to perfection into an asymmetrical bob, Wilma was killing it, hands down. Since her mother worked five days a week as a CNA then did hair and nails on the weekends, Wilma’s hair stayed on point. Like me, her father wasn’t around, and her mother was often too busy to give her any guidance. However, she didn’t have to lay up with a nigga six years her senior to get a pack of pads.

  “Oh, like Kenny not just going to come over there and drag my ass back home.” I rolled my eyes.

  “Maybe we can kill and rob that nigga, then run off.”

  “Girl, bye.” I waved her off.

  “But, nah, for real. If you ever want to get away from that nigga, you’re free to come to my house. My door is always open to you,” Wilma replied in a more serious tone.

  “I know, friend. I just wish my situation wasn’t so fucked up. I mean, when Kenny first pursued me, I was just happy to be fucking with him, but now it’s becoming too much. I didn’t expect his ass to move the fuck in,” I vented.

  “Akio is a fucked up individual, yo! I swear, on your eighteenth birthday, we jumping her ass.”

  “If she lives that long. At this point, I’m ready for her to drop dead, then maybe I can get sent to that foster home down the street from your house.” I uttered my innermost thoughts. I trusted Wilma like that. Around her, I spoke freely about my situation without feeling judged.

  “Uh, uh, not with them group home hoes.” Wilma scrunched her nose up.

  Wilma and her mother occupied a two-bedroom apartment on Second Ave, down the street from the group home that housed teenage girls whose parents no longer wanted them. Most of the girls had no morals. They spent their time pussy popping for the dope boys on the steps of the church that was located across the street from the home they lived in. Those hoes were the ones who gave all the girls who resided in that home the bad reputation of being a “group home hoe.”

  “Now, you know I don’t get down like that.” I chuckled.

  “Shit, it must be something in their water. I swear, all them bitches nasty. God is going to strike them down for how they be on them church steps getting fucked.” Wilma spoke while holding up a cross with her fingers.

  “You play too much!” I chuckled.

  “Y’all bitches always grouping up and leaving us.” Pooh smacked her lips the moment she and Jessie caught up with us.

  “Y’all the ones who just stood there.” Wilma shrugged at her cousin.

  Pooh and Wilma held a strong family resemblance, except Pooh was on the thicker side. They both were the dark and lovely of the crew, the two who were most sought after. Although I was way prettier than Jessie, she got more play than I did. Niggas always saved me as a last resort, after all of my girls had shot them down, which was why I jumped when Kenny approached me before everyone else in my crew. If I had known he wasn’t shit but a fuck nigga who loved putting his hands on women when shit didn’t go his way, I would have waved his ass off.

  “There go that weird ass nigga Miami,” Jessie spoke up, causing us to look up.

  “That nigga gives off psycho vibes. I heard his father slit his mother’s throat while she was in the bathtub, shot him and his sister, before turning the gun on himself and blowing his brains out.” Pooh smacked her lips.

  “How the fuck you know all of that?” Wilma quizzed.

  “Well, I did use to fuck with Chuck. His auntie is Miami’s foster mother. Chuck said he tried to chill with him, but that nigga was on some weird shit. All he does is stare off into space with those murderous eyes. I swear that nigga looks like the type that will shoot the school up. That’s why I’m always nice to his ass,” Pooh replied while placing a stick of gum in her mouth.

  “Damn, that’s fucked up,” Wilma whispered as if Miami could hear us.

  With my eyes trained on Miami, I watched as he walked over to a secluded bench that sat off to the side, away from the student population. His tall frame was slouched down in his seat while he stared off into space while brushing his thick hair. Miami was a cute, tall, and lanky, dark-skinned dude. He didn’t put much effort into his outfits like the other boys did. For the first day, he rocked a plain white t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans with a pair of white Chucks on his feet.

  “Bitch, that’s the bell. Bring your ass on before we’re late.” Wilma pulled me out of my thoughts.

  “You might as well walk your ass to Lock Out. Ain’t no teachers letting you in their class with your ass hanging out your shorts. Bitch, you know you out of dress cod
e.” I chuckled.

  “Girl, fuck them. Today is the first day. I know they gon’ let a real girl show off what she was blessed with.” Wilma popped her lips.

  “Straight like that.” I co-signed and smacked Wilma hard on the ass.

  “Looks like I got Spanish II, first period.” I rolled my eyes as I made my way to Mrs. Macnamera’s class.

  “Ohh, I feel bad for your ass. I can’t stand that hoe. Thank God they switched me to Mr. Gomez this year.” Walking me to class, Wilma quickly hugged me before disappearing into the crowd of students.

  Taking a seat in the back of the class, I pulled out my phone and scrolled through my messages. A wave of disappointment consumed me when I realized Kenny had really forgotten my birthday, especially since that shit as circled on the calendar that was nailed to the closet.

  As fucked up as it sounded, Kenny was my safe haven. He was the only consistent thing in my life. Yeah, I had to endure a few bruises here and there, but I always had a roof over my head, lights, clothes on my back, and I never went without food. Shit that wouldn’t have been possible if he hadn’t come into my life. If I lived to see eighteen, I would escape. As for now, I was stuck.

  “Young man, you are late,” Mrs. Macnamera spoke, causing me to look up from my phone.

  Instead of acknowledging her, Miami swaggered to the back row and slouched down in the seat that was next to me.

  “Let this be a warning. The next time you walk into my classroom after the late bell, you will be sent to Lock Out.” Her eyes were trained on Miami as she spoke, while his attention was on his fingers that drummed across the old wooden desk.

  “That applies to everyone else.” She shifted her attention to the class.

  The scent of Miami’s cologne invaded my nostrils as I tried to steal glances at him on the sly.

  “Aye, I owe you some money or some shit?” he asked, staring at me.

  “You talking to me?” I shifted in my seat before looking around.

  “You the only one in here staring at me like I owe you or some shit. Do I owe you some money, ma?” The authority in his tone had me feeling hot in the freezing cold classroom.

 

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