by Anna J.
Rolling over, I closed my eyes and called it a night, knowing I would have to be up in a few hours to start my grind again. This was going to be my year. I could feel it. But at the same time, shit was going too smooth, and something was telling me that the shit with Bunz wasn’t over. I would have to pay that nigga a visit before he ran up on us. After all, he was a stick-up kid, and they would take from their own momma, so why would my team be exempt?
Joey Street
Peepin’ ’round Corners
I started running that money back to Vince on the low, but something just didn’t feel right. I mean, he never inquired about the late payments or anything. Choice ran that cash too quickly for me as well. It wasn’t suspect because he’s looked out before, but that shit just didn’t sit right with me. I didn’t question it, though; I just got back out there on my grind so that I could build my stash back up. I had the payback money from Choice, so I was in the clear, but I needed some dough so that I could sit comfortably for a while and not stress.
In the midst of all that, I opened up a savings account in my son’s name so that I wouldn’t have to keep so much money in the crib. That way, if I went down for some shit, the feds couldn’t freeze up my funds. I had my mom as the other person on the account so that they wouldn’t be wondering how thousands of dollars were being deposited on a weekly basis.
I didn’t think I was going to be in the game for much longer. It wasn’t intuition; it was fear, because I just felt like some dumb shit was about to happen.
Vince told me to stick around on the block today because he wanted to holler at me about some new shit he and Choice had come up with. If it was about making more than I was now, I was definitely going to be there. I just felt like my time was limited. You ever have that feeling like somebody is watching you and shit? Like you’re going to turn the corner and something or somebody is gonna jump out on you? I wasn’t watching my back or nothing, but I stayed strapped because my gut was tight about some shit, and I couldn’t put my finger on why just yet.
After I dropped my little man and Vince’s niece off at school, I went and handled some business that ran me until like two-thirty in the afternoon, and then I copped me some breakfast from this joint down the bottom on Lancaster Avenue called Texas Weiner across the street from that braid shop we got before New Year’s. I felt funny even pulling up around there because that shit brought back unwanted memories, but they had these spicy breakfast sausages and hot cakes to die for. I just hoped I wouldn’t have to die literally.
When I walked up into the store, I stood to the side because it was always packed like crack up in this joint no matter what time of day you got there. Since they only stayed open until about three in the afternoon anyway, you had to get in when you could fit in, or you missed out until six the next morning.
I placed my order with one of the waitresses. Out of the corner of my eye, I couldn’t help but notice this dude in the cut near the back of the store mean-mugging me the entire time I was standing there. I gave cutie my order and ice-grilled his ass right back, tucking my chain on the low inside of my sweatshirt, just in case I had to lay a nigga down and jet.
I leaned up against the wall, wondering where I had seen this cat before. Did we have beef? I barely came down here except to get something to eat when I wanted a good breakfast, and with the exception of New Year’s Eve, I didn’t even travel in these parts. Maybe he was from around the way and was on the same mission I was. Bartram Village is full of clown-ass niggas trying to come up; that’s where Bunz was from.
I checked my hip for my shit, and kept it grizzly. This spot was packed too tight for him to pull out on me, but just in case he was a nigga like Bird that didn’t care who was there, I stayed on alert.
The waitress gave him his food before I got mine, and I was tempted to leave. I didn’t want this dude to have one up on me because he was able to leave and go get his boys; but I wasn’t about to jet like I was a scared nigga, either. He paid for his food and a fresh squeezed orange juice and slid on down my end, since there was only one way in and one way out. I gave him just enough room to slide by without brushing against me, but he stopped at the door and looked back.
“Hey, tell Shanyce I said wassup,” he said with a smirk on his face that I was close to knocking the fuck off. Who was he, one of her exes or some shit?
“I certainly will. Who should I say asked about her?” I asked with the same smirk, letting this man know that what he said didn’t faze me nearly as much as he thought. Shanyce ain’t no fool; trust me on this one.
“Tell her, her Monday man said wassup. I’ll see her next week.”
Just when I was going to snap, the waitress called me over to get my platter. In that split second when I looked away and looked back, he was gone. To say I was heated was putting it mildly, but I paid for my shit and gave her a tip before I left, checking my surroundings at the door before walking to my whip. Her Monday man, huh? I’m not going to even question her about that shit right this second. I need to investigate first.
That shit ruined my damn appetite for the moment, so I slid the food in my passenger seat and took it back around the way, promising to devour that shit later. Hitting up Choice, he told me that the crew was at his spot, so I just went over there to see what the transition would be. I had paper to get; that’s all that mattered at this point.
I walked in on Choice, Vince, and Bird passing several lit blunts around while they watched game highlights on ESPN. I took a seat next to Choice on the sofa and jumped into the rotation until they were ready to talk. I was still on steam from that earlier bullshit, but they would never know it. You don’t tell your left hand what your right hand is doing all the time.
Once we got caught up on what was good in the sports world, Choice turned to the news and put the television on mute so that we could talk. I could read lips, so I kept watching television while we talked, just in case some shit happened that I needed to know about. There was a funeral last week for that woman that Bunz killed, and the news was still riding that shit like it just happened today, not a few weeks ago.
“So, I got this new product from them Miami niggas that’s like Snow White to the tenth power,” Vince spoke between puffs on his L. No matter who we got our product from, we always marketed the shit as Snow White to keep the customers coming back. We always tried to get some better shit than we had the last time, because we were always in transition to step the game up to the next level.
“ Did we start putting it out yet?” I asked, diverting my attention away from the TV for a quick second to join the conversation. They weren’t talking anything of significance on TV anyway; just the same shit from yesterday that we already heard about.
“Yeah, we started passing out samples over the weekend, and they asking for the shit like crazy. We just need to decide if we’re going to go with this new connect or not,” Bird said before he started choking on blunt smoke. The shit we were puffing on was the truth, and I had to put it down if I wanted to get some shit accomplished today.
For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why I was the only soldier here on this meeting. Maybe they were about to up my rank or some shit, because normally these meetings were only held amongst Vince, Choice, and Bird. Hustle boys had an entirely different meeting involving the product. I didn’t say a word because I didn’t want to assume that I was in, but if they had me there, it must have been something up.
“Okay, well, let’s get this money,” I said, trying to sound hype about the shit. In reality, I wanted to wild the fuck out on Shanyce’s dumb ass, but I’d deal with her later.
“Yo, Street, we wanna put you on to some real cash, but we don’t all feel like you’ve really put up the effort to prove you were down. How many bodies you got on you now?” Vince asked through the haze of thick smoke that circled us like storm clouds. What was this nigga tryin’a get at? He knew I was down for the crew at the drop of a hat.
“Like six? Why you ask?” I asked n
ervously, my high completely blown. They were testing me, this I knew, and if I wanted to stay on, I knew what was coming next. There wasn’t any bowing out, though. It was kill or be killed in this game. I just had to decide which way I wanted to go.
“Because real killers don’t hesitate. We got a situation we need you to handle,” Bird said through choking. I wanted to tell that nigga to put the L down and get his head on straight, but I kept the thought to myself.
“What’s the situation?” I asked, turning my head to the television just in time to see Bunz’s dumb ass being wrestled to the ground by some angry cops. What the fuck was this nigga up to now?
I grabbed the remote and hit the sound so that I could hear what was going on, causing the conversation to pause as we all turned to the news. I was looking because I wanted to make sure this incident wasn’t in direct relation to the New Year’s Eve shit. Bunz’s dumb ass would straight drop a dime on me if it meant his own freedom. That’s why I was kicking myself in the ass now because I did that stick-up with him.
He was trying to hide his face from the camera once he was up from the ground. Apparently he tried to rob the Chinese store and got caught. That was the most asinine shit I heard all day. How are you trying to rob a Chinese store and they behind glass? I swear he never fails to amaze me.
“We need you to handle a situation,” Choice said, snatching the remote from my hand and turning the television off. These niggas meant business and were obviously trying to give me more stripes. Who was I to argue with their decision?
“Okay, what you need me to do?”
They all got up and instructed me to follow them into the back room of Choice’s apartment. I’d never walked around his place to this extent, with the exception of using the bathroom and going to the kitchen. The door was locked, and Choice searched his pockets for the key to open it so that we could go in. When the door opened, I smelled the stench of old blood and alcohol, and I figured they wanted me to ditch a body. I ain’t give a fuck; I’d just roll that nigga up in a carpet and he’d be floating on the Schuylkill by midnight.
They were all in front of me so I couldn’t see who it was, but when I finally got in the room, I was floored when I saw Shanyce’s brother tied to a chair, looking like a bloody mess but still breathing. I wondered briefly if they found out that he stole that pack from me, but nothing was ever said.
“Like I said, we have a situation,” Bird said after closing the bedroom door. I didn’t know what they wanted me to do, but I knew I would have to take it to my grave. I’d regret this later on, but my loyalty was to the crew first. I’d just have to deal with the guilt at a later date.
Journey Clayton
The Kissing Game
I was finally able to convince Vince to let me study with Khalid. It was awkward at first because I couldn’t really explain to Khalid why we always had to be at his house. I just told him that my mom was sick and my uncle didn’t want people in the house. It wasn’t a total lie, but it wasn’t the complete truth either. Besides, his mom gave us snacks and let us study in the room with the door closed. I guess she trusted her son to not try anything crazy.
We spent a good amount of time studying, because in addition to learning spelling and arithmetic, we were required to decipher passages from the Bible as well. Khalid really knew his stuff, and could recite every book of the Bible in order, frontwards and backwards. I always got stuck after Deuteronomy, but I was getting better at it.
On this particular day, we were lying side by side on beanbags, talking about what we wanted to be when we grew up. I was not really surprised by too many things, given the situation that I was in, but Khalid always caught me off guard. That was one of the many things I liked about him.
“I think I want to be President of the United States when I grow up,” Khalid said whimsically as he lifted his legs to the ceiling and lowered them back to the ground like we had done in gym class earlier. I was keeping count on my own, but my legs got tired long before his did.
“The president? I think you should go for it.”
“I plan to, and you can be the first lady, because you know the president has to have a wife.”
“That means we would have to get married,” I threw in there just to see what he would say. Was he implying that I would be a part of his future?
“I plan to wife you, since you already my girl. When we get older, we might as well make it official.”
I looked at his dimples while he smiled and continued talking, not believing my luck. He could choose from any girl in the class and he chose me. I couldn’t help but smile as I brushed my braids away from my face so that they could rest on the side of the beanbag. He had me smiling all day when he complimented me on my hair first thing in the morning. That was two weeks ago, and it was just starting to get a little fuzzy from me scratching between my cornrows. Vince said I would be able to get it done again over the weekend, so I really wasn’t worried about it.
Khalid was no longer hiding our friendship from the other girls in the class, either, allowing me to wear his gold K chain that his dad got him for his birthday last year. He even carried my books into the school and home from school. During recess, he always made sure I was cool before he went to play with the boys, and checked on me periodically until it was over. I didn’t really know what love was, but it had to be what I felt about Khalid. I wouldn’t know what to do without him.
I wanted to tell him about the things my uncle made me do to him, but I didn’t want him to feel sorry for me, or even worse, not like me anymore. Instead, I just kept smiling—and it came naturally, because he made me feel so good on the inside. He could talk forever about all of his dreams for the future, and I’d follow him to the moon. He said we would be together forever, and I believed him.
“Journey, you daydreaming again?” Khalid said, flashing me that gorgeous smile. He had dimples so deep you could put your finger in them, and I hoped if we ever had children, our son would inherit them.
“You caught me,” I slyly laughed as I turned my attention back to him. He was now sitting up on the beanbag with his legs folded Indian-style. I sat up and matched his position, scooting my beanbag closer so that we could hold hands.
“What do you know about kissing?” he asked me with a devilish look on his face.
“Not much besides what we do. Why?”
“Because I was looking at one of my dad’s movies, and we can take kissing to another level.”
I was intrigued. All we ever did was mash our lips together for a few seconds before pulling away. That in itself made me blush, so I couldn’t begin to imagine what else there was to do. My mom and dad were always high from smoking marijuana before they turned to harder stuff, from what I can remember from back in the day. I couldn’t recall any public displays of affection, so I just had to trust him. I felt bad because I knew the things that my uncle made me do with my mouth were not good, but how could I tell Khalid that?
“Okay, give me your hands and move closer,” Khalid instructed, and I unfolded my legs and scooted closer, folding them again so that our knees touched. I placed my now trembling hands in his and waited for what I was supposed to do next.
“Now close your eyes and do to me what I do to you.”
I closed my eyes nervously and waited for him to continue. He started off by kissing my lips like we normally did, and my grip on his hands got tighter during contact. I felt him trying to part my lips with his tongue. I was hesitant to open my mouth, doing so only slightly, so that he could slip his tongue in. My eyes were shut tight as I softly sucked on his tongue, tasting the remnants of the pineapple Now and Laters that we were eating moments before. I could feel a pulse in my panties that made me jump back and open my eyes. I was holding his hands so tight it felt like I was crushing them, but he looked back at me and smiled.
“How was that?” he asked me before standing up from where we were sitting.
“I don’t know. I liked it. How should it have been?”
“I liked it too, but don’t worry; we’ll get plenty of practice. I got something I want to show you.”
I thought he was about to pull his dick out or something, and I wasn’t quite ready for all that yet. I was already kind of confused about the things I did with Khalid thus far, because it felt totally different from what my uncle made me do. I hated my uncle touching me, and I didn’t necessarily love Khalid touching me either, but for some reason, I felt I could trust him and he wouldn’t hurt me.
I was ready to protest when he turned and walked to the closet. I thought maybe he was going to show me a new shirt or some sneakers that his dad just bought him, but what he turned around with surprised me even more.
“Khalid, where did you get that from?” I said, jumping up from my sitting position on the floor and moving to the other side of the bed. Khalid held a broad smile on his face as he handled the shiny chrome on the .22 he was holding. I didn’t know what to expect, but a gun damn sure wasn’t on the top of my list. I recognized the type of gun immediately because it looked similar to the one my uncle had hidden under my mother’s bed that I wasn’t supposed to know about.
“It’s my dad’s. He doesn’t know that I’m up when he’s trying to hide his stash. This ain’t the only thing he got in here.”
I walked up to the closet and stood to the side as Khalid showed me the sliding panel in the wall inside of his closet. It held ridiculous amounts of money and vials stuffed with Snow White, which I recognized from my house. On the weekends, Vince had me cooking and bagging up product for his crew until the wee hours of the morning, and I swear I was having nightmares of white tops chasing me down the street.
“I think you should put that up before your mom walks in,” I said to Khalid, backing away from the closet and staying clear of what I just saw. I ain’t want no parts of that, and that’s why I had to keep my mouth shut. He could never know what part I played in the game.
“Awww, what? You scared of this little gun?” Khalid said while imitating moves from shows he’d seen on TV. I was ducking because I didn’t want to get shot accidentally.