Black & Ugly
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Black Ugly
T Styles
Triple Crown Publications (2005)
Rating: ****
Tags: Fiction, Urban Life, General, African Americans, Action Adventure, Thrillers
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Product Description
Parade Knight hates her complexion. As a result, she considers herself to be unattractive and condones the misuse of her body. Sky Taylor is beautiful, fly and wanted, and loves reminding Parade of her imperfections especially after suspecting that she may be sleeping with her man, Jay Hernandez. Miss Wayne is hilarious and a self-proclaimed girlfriend who enjoys the attention his friends bring. If you let Miss Wayne tell it, he s not a gay, he s just one of the girls. Daffany Stans uses her body for profit and hides a health secret so serious that it could endanger the lives of her friends, considering their sex partners are so closely related. Black and Ugly is a tale of four totally different friends from the same block, whose friendship is tested during a seemingly innocent game of Truth or Dare. When fatal secrets begin to surface, will Parade give up the friend whose shadow she has walked in all her life? And will Miss Wayne and Daphne abandon their friends to save themselves?
About the Author
With a goal to become one of the world s greatest multi-genre African American female authors, T. Styles takes her swing at her true love, Urban Lit writing. Born in Southeast Washington, D.C, and raised in Houston, Texas, she now resides in Baltimore County, Maryland with her son. She credits her creativity to God, the hundreds of DVDs she has in her collection and trailblazers such as Sister Souljah, saying that, In order to be blessed, you have to pay homage to those who ve paved the way. Although writing is her love, she is certainly multi-talented. Having worked as a Certified Massage Therapist, Model and Public Speaker for major companies/organizations such as The Office of the US Supreme Court, Marriot, Carefirst Blue Cross and Blue Shield and Eduserc, she has discovered that her true passion is writing. In addition to working with companies and individuals regarding Health and Wellness issues, T spends her time speaking honestly about the issues she s experienced with the law as a juvenile. She is no stranger to the complexities and issues of the street. I believe urban writing doesn t glorify crime, it brings to light what really exists. It is my hope that through writing, I can steer as many young people away from this lifestyle as possible. To me, there s no harm in that. With an excellent support system, including her son and best friend, she plans to use all of the tools at her disposal, as she strives to create the next great novel.
Black & Ugly
T Styles
previous page
Black
and
Ugly
By T. Styles
This is a work of fiction. The authors have invented the charac-ters. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
If you have purchased this book with a 'dull' or missing cover--
You have possibly purchased an unauthorized or stolen book.
Please immediately contact the publisher advising where, when and how you purchased this book.
Compilation and Introduction copyright (c) 2006 by Triple Crown Publications
4449 Easton Way, 2nd Floor
Columbus, Ohio 43219
www.TripleCrownPublications.com Library of Congress Control Number: 2006937037
ISBN: 0-9778804-1-9
ISBN 13: 978-0-9778804-1-6
Author: T. Styles
Cover Design/Graphics: www.MarionDesigns.com Typesetting: Holscher Type and Design Associate Editors: Chandra Sparks Taylor, Rhonda Crowder Editorial Assistant: Elizabeth Zaleski Editor-in-Chief: Mia McPherson Consulting: Vickie M. Stringer Copyright (c) 2006 by T. Styles. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher, except by reviewer who may quote brief pas-sages to be printed in a newspaper or magazine.
First Trade Paperback Edition Printing December 2006
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Printed in the United States of America Dedication
I'd like to dedicate this novel to all my chocolate sisters who don't realize how truly beautiful they are.
Acknowledgments
As always, I'd like to thank God for the talent, strength and courage he has given me to excel in my craft. In him, all things are possible.
To my son, I am because of you, and because of you, I am. Stay on the honor roll, baby, and continue to knock 'em down on the football field. And between me and you,
"When did we get ice cream?" I know you'll get it.
I'd like to thank Charisse. Once again, you stood beside me for the completion of another one. Did I tell you your support gets me through? Because it does. Thanks for being my closest friend, strongest supporter and biggest fan, because I'm yours too.
I'd like to thank my wonderful family. My mommy, my sisters Tina and Kavena, my nieces Destanee and Bria, my nephew Darius and his brother-in-life D'Juan, my aunt Paula and cousins Dee, Billy and his loving wife. To Los/30/Mr. Mavins, I love you with all my heart. I hope I'm doing you proud with this one. I'd also like to send a shout-out to your cellmates, too. Tell them I'm throwing them many kisses and more hugs.
I'd like to thank my friends Charisse, CeCe, Kalisha, A.C. (Damn baby, how many A Hustler's Son books did you sell? I love you for that and I remember everything!) Cochise, Mona, Allyn, Marla, Monica, Chaneta, George, Mike, the Grosses and Mamma Watkins. I'd also like to thank Mark Valentine. You are the best friend a girl could ever ask for. Thanks for staying in my life.
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I'd like to thank the Triple Crown Publications family: Ms. Vickie Stringer, Tammy, Mia and all the editors and designers who made my book possible.
I'd also like to thank Cynthia for being there for me when I needed you. You'll always be number one in my book.
I'd like to thank some of my favorite entertainers for keeping me smiling. P-Diddy, Janet Jackson, Anthony Hamilton, Tyra Banks, Raheem Devaughn, R. Kelly, Jamie Foxx, 50-Cent and Vivica Fox.
I'd also like to send a shout-out to Leo Sullivan. You have been an inspiration to me, and I need you to know that. I hope we can get to crackin' on a project. That would mean a lot to me.
To all my readers, please continue to support African-American authors like Cydney Rax, Deja King, Candice Dow, Kwan, Karen E. Quiones Miller, Darren Coleman, J.
Tremble, Paula Edwards (the best talk show host for up and coming authors) I love you girl! Treasure E. Blue, Miasha, Danielle Santiago, Leo Sullivan, Quentin Carter, Wahida Clark, Tanika Lynch, Erick Jerome Dickey, Dorrie Williams-Wheeler and the rest of my MySpace fam.
I can't leave without thanking the bookstores that push my book. DC Bookman and Tiah, you guys are wonderful.
You made a night more special for me than any I could ever have imagined. That's what you call hometown love, and thanks for looking out. To Urban Knowledge Bookstore in Mondawmin Mall, Urban Knowledge Bookstore in Owings Mills Mall, Urban Knowledge in New Jersey and Sepia Sand and Sable...I love you guys.
Last but not least, I'd like to thank my fans for believing in me and my work. This is all for you. I'm still a work in progress, but trust and believe, I think about all of you v
Triple Crown Publications presents . . .
with every word I type. Continue to send your emails, because I read and respond to every one of them. I love you guys.
T.Styles
toysstyles@yahoo.com
www.myspace.com/toystyles
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Black and Ugly
1
Parade Knight
I KNEW I WAS UGLY the moment my mother gave me a mirror. How could I not? Growing up, she reminded me over and over that I didn't look like her when she was younger. I don't care too much a
nymore because I can beat a bitch down. And, I dare somebody to call me ugly to my face. Everybody knows me 'round my way and they know the one thing I don't tolerate is someone tellin' me somethin' I already know.
Hyattsville, Maryland, where I was born and raised, is not always considered the ghetto until you lift up a few rocks and look behind a couple of corners. Then you'll come face to face with what moves in the dark because in the most remote part of town and next to a cemetery is Quincy Manor Apartments, the place I've called my home for twenty-two years ... and that's all my life.
By the way, I'm Parade Knight. I'm five feet, five inches, dark-skinned and thick to death. I'm the one the boys sneak around with when their girlfriends act T. Styles
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up ... well ... besides Miss Wayne, and that's a whole
'notha story. I'm not light-skinned or pretty enough to be their arm-piece, but I'm soft enough to put in their beds. I've been told that I don't give them a hard time like their girls do, that's why they fucks wit' me.
Although I know I'm not the prettiest, my body is tight and my pussy stays wet. I've learned to appreciate my positives and ignore the negatives. Does it hurt to be considered unattractive? Yeah, it does. But I've gotten used to it over time. There's no use in me dwellin' on shit I can't change. I'm gonna be ugly today, and I'm gonna be ugly tomorrow. Might as well make the best of what God gave me. Right?
Now, my friends, they're just the opposite of me.
Take Sky Taylor, for instance. We're the same height, age and weight - about one hundred forty-five pounds
- but her hair is soft, short and naturally curly. Her skin is light and she ain't got a mark on her body. Get a good picture of her in your head? Can you see her?
Well, I'm the exact opposite.
Sky gives me a lot of things, like the clothes she doesn't want anymore. I wish we were the same shoe size because she buys a new pair every week. I don't care if they're hand-me-downs, 'cuz without her, I wouldn't have anything decent to wear. She even gave me this fly-ass perfume that my mother stays comin' in my room usin'. And that doesn't do anything but piss me off because when it's gone, she ain't got no intentions on replacing it.
My folks give me the bare essentials. A comb. A 2
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brush. Soap. Food. A roof over my head. If my shoes wear out and begin to speak, maybe, just maybe, they'll buy me a new pair. Other than that, I'm short dog. Now, my so-called man gives me a few dollars every now and again, but not enough to buy no real clothes.
I often ask myself, "If Sky looks out for you, why do you fuck her man?" My answer to that is this: the outfits, the perfume and Jay bring me closer to actually being her. That is, until he calls me an ugly black bitch or I look into the mirror.
Now I am just sittin' on my black canopy bed wonderin' what I'm gonna get into on a Thursday night and my phone rings. I'm hopin' it ain't my boyfriend
'cuz sometimes, I'd rather be alone than with him. He grosses me out. It's just a matter of time before I end things, but first I have to make sure it's what I wanna do. I guess if I hadn't been fuckin' Sky's man for the past six months, I wouldn't know what a real man's touch feels like, but now I do. So, I don't want to replace that so quickly for Melvin's short, stubby fingers.
"Hello," I answer the phone.
"What the deal, Parade? Your folks up? 'Cuz I'm tryin' to slide through there and bang the walls out of that pussy real quick," he says.
It's him. Jay! He's been callin' me a lot lately. At first he would sneak over here once a week, but now it's every other day.
"They ain't even here," I respond, hoping my smile T. Styles
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doesn't come through the phone. "I thought you were takin' Sky to the movies in forty minutes."
"I am," he answers, breathing heavily as if he's irritated. "How you know?"
"She called me and said she was on her way to meet you down there. If you come see me, and we do what we do, you won't have time to shower."
"It ain't like we don't live in the same complex, Parade," he says. "Anyway, are you worried about it?" He knows I ain't worried. I have splotches, acne and bumps all over my face. There is no way on earth I am turning down Jay Hernandez who, if dressed like a girl, would still look better than me. At six feet, three inches and two hundred thirty pounds, he is handsome, fit, strong and the only man other than five-foot-four Melvin who wants to be bothered with me.
"No, it's just that ... you know how Sky is when she gets around you. She'll probably want to go down on you or somethin' in the movie theater, and then what?"
"And then I'll let her do it," he says, aggravated at my question. "Man, stop askin' me so much 'cuz I ain't feelin' the third degree. That's the same kinda shit I can't stand 'bout her ass."
"I'm not tryin' to get you mad," I respond as I sit up in the bed and play with the hole in the multicolored comforter. "It's just that, well, I feel bad when you see me right before you see her."
"Look, we do what we do but if you ain't feelin' it
... fuck it. I won't come over," he says and hangs up.
I stand. My heart is racing, and I'm already feeling 4
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as if I've lost a boyfriend instead of a slide - somebody I fuck from time to time. What am I gonna do now?
Askin' a million questions has ruined my chances of being with Jay tonight. What if he never wants to see me again? I'm so fuckin' stupid. Why would I remind him about his girlfriend when he is coming over my house to see me?
I walk into the kitchen to get something to eat. But, in my heart, I'm trying to get my mind off needing to feel him and hold him. I grab a plate and a piece of five-day-old fried chicken out the fridge. I notice the red phone shining on the kitchen wall. I take it as a sign. Maybe I should call him and at least tell him I'm sorry. After all, it is my fault for asking so many stupid-ass questions. What he does with Sky is none of my business, and I have no right questionin' him. I'll call and if he still doesn't want to see me, well, at least I'll know I apologized.
I pick up the phone and nervously dial his number.
Please let him still be available.
"Yeah," he yells as the sounds of Biggie's "Fuck You Tonight" blast on his truck stereo in the background.
"Jay, it's Parade," I say as my voice shakes. "Can you turn your music down a little?" He does but remains silent.
"Uh ... I wasn't tryin' to get you mad," I continue, twirling the phone cord and playing with the fried chicken I don't plan to eat.
Silence.
"I will never question you again. I understand what T. Styles
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you guys do ain't got shit to do with me." Silence.
"And if you still wanna come by, I still wanna see you."
Sweat forms on my forehead and I raise my left brow as I wait for his response. Am I trippin' off him more than I realize? Is my heart getting too deep into a man who at any point could say, "Game over. I don't feel like playing anymore." Where would that leave me? Back with sweaty-ass Melvin? I hope not.
"Leave the door open and don't have shit on," he demands.
I hurry into the bathroom to freshen up. I put on the Bebe perfume Sky gave me, take a rat-tail comb then smooth some gel on the back of my hair so it will stay in place. My mother never taught me how to style my hair when I was in high school. Instead, she used to cut it all off so she didn't have to deal with it. Now I keep it slicked down real low with a part on the side. I usually cut it myself with a pair of scissors.
Whenever Jay comes over, I want to look nice for him. Part of me hopes he'll think about me when he leaves. Don't think I'm wrong, and don't make your mind up about me yet. I care about Sky, but I also know she talks bad about me when I'm not around.
; Whenever something's wrong with her, she takes it out on me. She doesn't do the same thing to Miss Wayne or Daffany, and we've all been best friends forever.
Between Sky and my mother, I don't know who comes down on me the worst.
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Even though Sky wails on me, I'll fuck somebody up about her. I got a reputation for fighting and stompin' bitches out 'round the way. That's the only reason they don't fuck with me. Most of the scratches on my face came from beating a bitch's ass.
So, it's not like I'm fucking Sky's man and don't care about her. It's just that I need Jay to make me feel like a woman. Sometimes even pretty. Hell, she can get anybody she wants, but I can't. What am I supposed to do?
~~~~
He's here. Damn! It's only been five minutes. He walks straight through the door because it's already open. Ohh, he's lookin' soooo good. Have you ever seen a man who looks better every time you see him? Well, Jay does. I understand why Sky chose him. He is wearing blue jeans, a black button-down shirt, a fitted cap and a platinum chain. He also has a watch on with so many diamonds that it is tough to look at. But what I really love is how he always smells like money. I'm pretty sure everything he has on is designer but I don't know much about labels - just the shit that Sky gives me.
"Why you got your clothes on?" he asks as he enters and slams the door. "I thought I told you I wanted that ass naked? You know I can't stay long." He's pissed but I like it better when he takes my clothes off for me than for me to take them off myself.
I have on my sexy black dress and, at seventeen dollars, it deserves his full attention. As far as I'm conT. Styles
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cerned, to feel like a lady is worth hearing his fussing.
"Come on, Jay," I persist as I lock the door and gently grab his hand. "I got my room all nice and pretty for you. I thought we could do it on the bed tonight."