The Diary of a Side Chick 6 (SCD)

by Tamicka Higgins

  Desirae did just that. She’d seen the SUV still parked in the lot and pulled into the drive thru. She’d pulled up to the second window and saw that she was in luck. The double windows opened, and Desirae saw a surprised look on D’Mann’s face.

  “You back again?” he asked, sarcastically.

  Desirae snickered and said, “Well, I ain’t think you would be here still. I thought you was about to get off.”

  D’Mann shook his head and chuckled. “Naw, I get off in fifteen minutes though,” he said. “And a nigga is really ready to get the fuck out here and smoke or somethin’.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Desirae said. “Shit, a bitch need to smoke her damn self. I ain’t smoked in,” she took a moment to think, “maybe ten months now.”

  “Damn,” D’Mann said, hanging the strawberry milkshake to Desirae. “Well, shit. I got that fire if you wanna chill with me for a second, I mean, if you got time and stuff. I can look at you and tell that you pretty busy and stuff.”

  “You say you get off in fifteen minutes?” Desirae asked. She checked the drive thru line and saw that there weren’t any cars behind her.

  “Yeah,” D’Mann responded.

  “Well, shit,” Desirae said. “I can just pull over and wait, if that’s coo with you.”

  D’Mann leaned out of the window and pointed toward the parking lot. “Yeah, that’s my truck back there,” he said. “Just park over by it, and I’ll be over there when I clock out in a second.”

  “Okay,” Desirae said. D’Mann leaning out of the window allowed her to hear just how deep his voice was. It was the kind of deep that she found to be so sexy. She’d also gotten a closer look at D’Mann’s tattoos, noticing how some of them were those she’d recognized from people who lived over in an area on Indianapolis’ west side called “The Land.”

  Desirae pulled off and drove around the building until she pulled into a parking spot a couple of spots down from D’Mann’s truck. Now that she was parked closer to it, she could see some more of the intricacies of its design. More and more, she could see that D’Mann must’ve had some deep pockets to be able to afford an SUV that was so nice. She sat there thinking as she gulped down her milkshake. Again, she heard her phone vibrating from her purse. She dug it out, shaking her head. And yet again, it was Tron.

  “This nigga is somethin’ else,” Desirae said, snickering. “Now he wanna see a bitch. Now he wanna see a bitch.” Against her better judgment, Desirae went ahead and answered. She put on the nicest voice she could and said, “Hello?”

  “Why you ain’t been answerin’ my calls, Desirae?” Tron asked, clearly sounding angry.

  “Hold up,” Desirae said. “Don’t you come callin’ my phone just thinkin’ that you can talk to me any ole kind of way, and it’s just gon’ be okay. Let’s not forget that you is callin’ my phone. And since we ain’t together, you ain’t really got no right to be try’na ask me why I do this and why I do that.”

  Tron let out a deep but quiet groan. “You know what I mean, Desirae,” he said. “I know you’d seen that I’d been calling you, so why you even gotta front with a nigga. How are my sons? How are Titan and James?”

  “They okay,” Desirae said, shaking her head. “Thanks for fuckin’ askin’ about me. I could be sittin’ up in the hospital, dyin’ from getting’ hit by a car or a bus or somethin’, and you wouldn’t even know or care to know.”

  “Okay, okay,” Tron said. “How are you, Desirae? I was just gettin’ around to that?”

  “Well, thank you for asking,” Desirae said. “I’m doing okay, considering.”

  Tron knew that she was baiting him to ask considering what. However, he wasn’t going to give in. Instead, he moved along with the conversation and asked, “When I’mma come through and see my sons again? You can’t stop me from seein’ my sons, Desirae.”

  “Oh calm down, nigga,” Desirae said. “Ain’t nobody gon’ stop you from seein’ your sons. You know I was just playin’ when I said that. I’m a good mother. I want my sons to grow up knowin’ they daddy and to not just wind up bein’ another statistic, you know. When you wanna come see them? All you had to do was call and ask. I ain’t got no problem with you comin’ to see your sons.”

  “Desirae, you know I been callin’ you since you hung up on me on Saturday,” Tron said. “Don’t act like you ain’t seen a nigga callin’.”

  “I was busy,” Desirae said, trying to suppress the giggle in her voice.

  Just as Tron was continuing on with the conversation, trying to arrange a time he could come see James and Titan without having to see Desirae’s company, Desirae noticed D’Mann. He had just come out of the lobby doors of the McDonalds. With a walked that was definitely swagged out, D’Mann walked over to his truck doors and hopped inside, looking over at Desirae.

  “Tron, Tron,” Desirae said, cutting him off. “I gotta go. I’ll hit you back up later so we can finish whatever you was talkin’ about. I’ll hit you back, okay?”

  “Desirae, I…” Tron began.

  Desirae ended the call just as Tron was preparing to speak. She tossed her phone into her purse, grabbed the purse, and hopped out of the car. As she walked around her car then toward the tail of D’Mann’s SUV, she saw D’Mann’s eyes following her in his rearview mirror. His eyes followed her body as he smiled and nodded. Desirae smiled back, quickly getting around to the passenger front door and hopping inside.

  “Damn, thought you was gon’ stand a nigga up,” D’Mann said, sarcastically. “I was over here waitin’ for fuckin’ ever.”

  “Boy, stop,” Desirae said, getting comfortable in her seat. “You saw I was on the phone and as soon as I saw you, I got over here.”

  “Hmm, hmm,” D’Mann said, noticing how Desirae’s ass pushed down into his seat, practically spilling over the sides. “How was your day today?”

  Desirae looked over at D’Mann, this dude she’d just met no more than four hours ago. In a way, she was astonished. Rarely had she ever had a man actually take the time to ask her how her day had been. She smiled and answered, “It’s been okay. Just lookin’ for a job and shit, but it’s been okay.”

  “Is that right?” D’Mann asked. “What kinda job you lookin’ for?”

  “Any job I can get,” Desirae answered. “Why?”

  “Just askin’?” D’Mann said, looking away. “So, you got a nigga?”

  Desirae looked over at him, confused. “What kinda question is that?” she asked.

  “A real nigga question,” D’Mann answered. “Look, it ain’t really none of my business, but since a nigga is single and shit, I like to know who I’m hangin’ out with is all. You smart, so I know that you can understand that.”

  Desirae slowly nodded. “Hmm, hmm,” she said, thinking about how he’d said that he was single. “I see what you mean. I was actually going to ask you now that I think about it. But, to answer your question, no. I ain’t got no man right now.”

  “That’s good, that’s good,” D’Mann said. He then pulled a cup out of the drink carrier, popped the top off, and pulled out a fat blunt. He smiled as he held it up, looking at Desirae. “You wanna smoke this shit with a nigga?” he asked. “You got anywhere you gotta be?”

  “Not for a little while,” Desirae answered, not wanting to say that she was the mother of newborn twins just yet. “And hell yeah, let’s smoke that shit.”

  D’Mann’s eyes wandered down to Desirae’s thighs before he pulled them back up to her face. “Bet,” he said. “We can ride around and smoke this blunt and shit while we talk and maybe get to know each other.”

  “That’s coo,” Desirae said, shrugging her shoulders. “I just gotta be back at my car by ten, but that’s coo.”

  D’Mann chuckled. “Thought you told a nigga you was single?” he asked. “Why you gotta be back at ten? You look young, but I ain’t think you was that young.” He looked at Desirae’s chest, thinking to himself: Goddamn she got some big ass titties.

  “I am single, nigga,” Desirae
said, smiling. “But I gotta be back to so I can get over to my cousin’s house.”

  “You got a kid or something?” D’Mann asked. “If you do, a nigga ain’t trippin’. I was just askin’.”

  “Damn, what is this? A background check?” Desirae asked. “But yes, I do. Actually, I got two.”

  “Damn,” D’Mann said.

  Desirae shook her head and acted as if she was about to get out of the car. D’Mann chuckled, reaching over and gripping her fat thigh. He squeezed it, keeping Desirae in her place with his strong arm. “Where you goin?” he asked. “A nigga told you that I ain’t got no problem with you havin’ a kid or whatever. I was just askin’, damn. I got one too, in case you wanted to know.”

  Desirae calmed down and leaned back upright into her seat. She could feel D’Mann’s strong hands – hands that came across as being stronger than Tron’s hands. She smiled as her arms scrolled up his tattooed arms.

  “Okay, I was about to say,” Desirae said. “You lucky.”

  D’Mann broke into laughter as he looked back at the blunt. “You funny,” he said. “So, I saw you lookin’ at my nametag when you came through the drive thru earlier and shit.” He lit the blunt. “You know what a nigga’s name is, but I don’t know what your name is. That don’t seem fair, do it?”

  Desirae looked at D’Mann and rolled her eyes. He was just too cute for her to even deal with right now and take seriously. “You are really funny,” she said. “And I see you notice shit too. My name is Elizabeth.” Desirae tried to keep her face plain.

  “Bullshit,” D’Mann said. “You ain’t no damn Elizabeth. How the fuck you think a nigga supposed to believe that shit? Where they do that at? My name is D’Mann, as I’m sure you know by now. Some people call me D man, but I’ll let you call me by my name.”

  “Well, thank you,” Desirae said. “You are so nice. And naw, I was just playin’, boy. My name ain’t no damn Elizabeth. My name Desirae.”

  “Desirae, huh?” D’Mann said. He then handed the lit blunt to Desirae and began backing out of the parking space. A few seconds later, they were out on the main road, riding with the evening traffic as the sun had just about dropped out of the sky.

  Desirae looked at the interior of D’Mann’s SUV and couldn’t help but rub her fingers against the door paneling. The dashboard looked so futuristic, like something she’d only seen on television. A few minutes down the road, she’d noticed that the backseats had drop-down television screens. The music, which D’Mann had on at a low volume, played perfectly crisp.

  “This is a nice car,” Desirae said. “You doin’ good up at that McDonald’s.”

  D’Mann chuckled. “Fuck that job,” he said. “Like I told you earlier, that shit ain’t nothin’ but gas money. I burn up more gas with this truck than I make in a month slaving around in there with all them damn Mexicans. I make way more money on my own than I do with that shit.”

  “That shit just yo’ front, huh?” Desirae asked.

  D’Mann glanced over in Desirae’s direction and shrugged. “Basically,” he said. “Once a nigga got out of Marion County downtown, I ain’t have no luck findin’ no job, so I had to make a way myself. I just keep to myself a lot more now.”

  “That’s what’s up,” Desirae said, feeling her head get a little light. “That’s the shit that I’m on right now. I done had some rough months and shit. I just wanna chill and be coo, you know? I ain’t with all the drama no more.”

  D’Mann glanced at Desirae, wondering what had happened to her face. He knew that he’d eventually find out, but he wanted to have a little strategy with how he went about finding out. “Yeah, I feel you on that shit,” he said. “My baby mama.” His head shook. “I’m so sick of that bitch, I don’t even know what to do, shit.”

  “I’m in the same fuckin’ boat,” Desirae said, shaking her head this time. “My baby daddy is a fuckin’ piece of work. He don’t give two fucks or a shit about me. It’s just so damn sad, too.”

  “Was y’all ever together like that?” D’Mann asked.

  Desirae shook her head. “Naw, not really,” she answered. “Just got pregnant by the nigga and had his babies.”

  D’Mann nodded, picking up on the bit of stress in Desirae’s voice. “Shit, a nigga woulda thought that the otha nigga, the daddy, woulda snatched your ass up by now,” he said. “With how pretty you is, I’m still havin’ a hard time believin’ that you ain’t got no nigga.”

  Desirae looked at D’Mann. “I know what you try’na do,” she said. “You just try’na make me feel better because of how my face look. I can tell by the way you lookin’ at me that you wanna know what happened to it.”

  D’Mann shrugged. “I mean…” he said, hesitantly. “I ain’t really think about it like that. I still think you pretty and shit. Just cause you got some bumps and scratches don’t mean a nigga can’t see that.”

  Smiling, Desirae said she’d gotten into it with this chick over a dude and the rest was history.

  “I see, I see,” D’Mann said. “It can happen to the best of us.”

  “Yeah, well,” Desirae said, “if I catch that bitch again, I swear to God I’mma jump on that ass. She caught me off guard last time cause I ain’t know she was comin’.”

  “You know how these hoes out here be,” D’Mann said, trying to calm her down. “You know they always wanna get jealous and mad and shit at the pretty chicks or the chicks that got the body. They don’t wanna do what they gotta do themselves so they can be on y’all level. That’s all that is. Bitches just be intimidated by chicks like you.”

  Desirae looked at D’Mann, realizing that he was sure more than what met the eye when she’d rolled into McDonalds. “Yeah, well,” she said, “I was thinkin’ the same about you. I mean, why ain’t you got no chick?”

  “I don’t know,” D’Mann said, smiling. “It’s just hard to find somebody that really catches my attention and shit. I don’t know, maybe I’m just picky or somethin’.”

  “So, then,” Desirae asked, smiling. “How did I catch your attention then? I mean, you is the one who asked me to come and chill with you.”

  D’Mann let a cloud of smoke billow out of his mouth. It climbed the front of his face before hitting the inside roof of his SUV and slipping out of the slightly lowered window. “Cause, the way you was talkin’,” D’Mann explained. “You should see the way some of them black chicks be talkin’ to a nigga when they come through the drive thru up there. I mean, damn, I know I work at McDonald’s and shit, but that don’t mean you gotta be mean and nasty and shit. When you first started talkin’ to a nigga, I could hear how sweet you sounded in your voice and shit and how you was just a genuinely nice person. I was like, a nigga gotta say something just in case you wasn’t one of them uppity bitches.”

  Desirae laughed. “Oh, was that what was going through your head?” she asked. “Well, ain’t that something.”

  “So, a nigga gotta know,” D’Mann said, “with as pretty as you are and stuff, what really made you wanna chill with a nigga like me… a nigga you met while he was workin’ up at McDonald’s?”

  Desirae shrugged. “I guess the same reason you was lookin’ at me, I don’t know,” she responded. “I mean, I thought you was kinda cute.”

  “Kinda cute?” D’Mann said, shaking his head. “Is that all you thought about a nigga was that he was kinda cute? Well, I’m honored to hear that.”

  Desirae playfully slapped D’Mann’s shoulder. Even with her tap, however, she could feel how built he was underneath his shirt. He looked to be a good fifty to sixty pounds heavier than Tron, but a few inches shorter in height. Desirae looked down at the fly of D’Mann’s pants, allowing her mind to wonder what was underneath, as she always did when meeting a new guy that piqued her interest. She only hoped that, if she and D’Mann got to that point, his manhood would be bigger than Greg’s. The odds were in her favor, at least.

  “Don’t be like that,” Desirae said. “You know what I mean, though. I mean, I just t
hought that you was cute. And since I ain’t lookin’ for nothin’ serious right now, when you asked me if I wanted to chill, I was like fuck it, why not?”

  D’Mann nodded. “That’s wassup,” he said. “So, what kinda shit you like to do?”

  D’Mann rolled around the south side of Indianapolis for a good hour or so. He and Desirae chatted back and forth about just about everything. Desirae was really feeling D’Mann, even though she didn’t particularly want to date a dude who sold drugs. However, he did seem to be smart about how he did things. Based on what he was saying, he was strategic with how he handled his business. And he really watched what kind of people he hung around.

  Further into the conversation, the two of them found out that they’d gone to the same middle school. Since they’d never had any classes together, they didn’t directly know one another. However, when either one of them would throw names into the air, many of the names would stick with the both of them. Desirae wondered if D’Mann knew Tron, but she figured it would be best to not even worry about trying to open that door. She was frightened over what could come out of the other side if she chose to do so.

  “So, where you stay at?” Desirae asked.

  D’Mann was pulling the SUV up to a stoplight on the far south side of downtown. In the distance, rising above the stadium and the interstate, were the high rises that made up downtown Indianapolis. “Actually, not too far from here,” D’Mann answered. “I stay over in Haughville. Off of Tenth Street.”

  “Oh,” Desirae said. “I thought you was from The Land.” She looked at his arms. “I mean, I looked at some of the tattoos when I came through the drive-thru and thought you lived over off of Thirtieth and MLK or something.”

  “I knew your ass was smart,” D’Mann said, smiling and looking over at Desirae. “But, yeah, a nigga is from over in The Land. But my house had some problems, so I moved over on the west side real quick. It was hard gettin’ all my furniture into my place I got now, but I made it work. I’m ready to get somethin’ bigger, though, but what I got now is coo. Where you stayin’?”