Black & Ugly

by Styles, Toy

  T. Styles

  Black and Ugly

  so she never tried. It's probably still in the box right now.

  I thought Miss Wayne was wrong for that shit because Parade will always be black, and she will always be ugly. And that makes me feel better, 'cuz I can't imagine Jay fucking with her. But, just to be sure, I'm gonna ask Parade what she did tonight. Don't get me wrong. She ain't no competition, but I'm thinking about what they say - pussy ain't got no face. I sure hope that ain't true.

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  Miss Wayne

  OKAY, SOMETHIN'S REAL CONSPICUOUS ABOUT these bitches. What the fuck is goin' on in here? We all ridin'

  together in the same car, but for real ... you'd neva know.

  I can tell somethin' is on Miss Parade's mind because she's picking a scab on her face and now the pink shows under her skin. I tap her on the shoulder to get her to stop, and on cue, she drops her hands in her lap. She only picks at her face when she's nervous and something is on her mind.

  "Parade, maybe you shouldn't've worn those tennis shoes with that outfit," Miss Sky says, waking her out of her trance. "You ain't have nothing else to put on?" Now Miss Sky is actin' like a bitch, 'cuz she knows that chile ain't got shit in her closet to wear besides the stuff she already gave her. That don't make no damn sense. She's been raggin' on that girl ever since we were in elementary school. It's a sight to see. Just plain old pitiful. I wish Miss Parade would stand up for herself 22

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  and cuss Miss Sky out. I'll pay money to see that shit.

  I've seen this girl stomp out three and four bitches at a time. But whenever Miss Sky confronts her, she becomes defenseless.

  "No," Miss Parade responds, staring at the road.

  "These the only ones that fit. I got some money on me, though," she continues, glancing at Sky briefly then looking at the road again. "Maybe I'll buy a new pair instead of buying an outfit for the party tomorrow night."

  "Miss Parade, if you short, baby, I'll front you," I tell her.

  "Thanks, Miss Wayne, but you gave me some money already."

  "Well, you need to let somebody do somethin', 'cuz I ain't walkin' into that party with your hair lookin'

  like shit. You look like you fuckin' homeless or somethin'. And don't ask me for no money either because I'm tired of giving it to you," Miss Sky continues as she combs through her own curly hair with her fingers, making sure each strand is perfect.

  "Oooooh, bitch, what has gotten into you? How dare you make Miss Parade feel that way when you know the situation!" I yell.

  I don't give a fuck if it's her car or not. I'll turn this mothafucka out.

  "Yeah, Sky, you actin' a little funky today. We all goin' to the mall and if we have to, we'll put in money to make sure Parade got something tight to throw on tomorrow. What she got on her feet right now ain't T. Styles

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  bothering nobody. Now, it's a nice day. Let's not ruin it," Miss Daffany says from the backseat with me.

  Miss Parade is silent as usual but stops picking her face. Miss Sky, although mad as hell, doesn't say shit else to none of us. We get to the mall and she parks the car, gets out and walks into Arundel Mills like we ain't even with her. But I want her to walk ahead so I can get the "T," or 411, from Miss Parade.

  "Miss Daffany, go with her, chile. I wanna talk to Miss Parade alone."

  "Okay, but you know I hate having Sky duty," she says, quickening her pace to catch up with Miss Sky.

  "For me, precious," I call out, flashing a smile.

  "For both of y'all," she responds, referring to Miss Parade and me.

  "What's goin' on, baby? Why that bitch throwin'

  you shade?" I ask as we sit down in the food court area while Miss Sky and Miss Daffany walk into Gap.

  "She always does that. You know how she is," Miss Parade responds.

  "And that makes it right?"

  "No, but I don't like to get her upset with me. Plus, you know what I'm doing is wrong," she says as she looks down on the ground. "With Jay and all."

  "That's true, baby, but Miss Thang is extra today. I am but five seconds from slappin' the sound out of her right ear."

  She laughs, and I'm happy I can make her smile.

  Miss Parade has a beautiful smile but shies away from compliments, so I avoid telling her as much as I like to.

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  "I'm serious, honey. I was gonna slap some sense into her ass," I continue.

  "Don't do that. She does so much for me. I just wish she'd stop treating me all fucked up and shit, especially around y'all."

  "Well, we family, baby. Like you said, we already know how the bitch is."

  "But it's still embarrassing," she continues.

  "Whenever she's mad at something or someone, she takes it out on me."

  "Well, say somethin' then, Miss Parade. She ain't gonna stop unless you say somethin' to her. She ain't nothin' but a bully. A big ole meany with horns," I say as I hit the table. "We in our twenties, and she still doin' the same shit she did to you in elementary. I don't even see how y'all stayed friends so long. Hell, I don't see how I stayed friends with the bitch so long." I laugh.

  "Eventually I'll say something to her," she whispers.

  "You want me to?"

  "No, then she'll really fuck with me 'cuz she'll know she's getting to me."

  "Okay," I say, mad at the missed opportunity to put Miss Sky in her place, "but you don't have a clue what's wrong this time? Because by the way she actin', I'd think somethin' else was up."

  "I don't know, Miss Wayne. She called me today and asked me what I did last night. I told her I saw Melvin but she picked me up and been actin' funny T. Styles

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  ever since."

  "Well, did you see Melvin last night?"

  "No," she says and pauses. "I can't stand his ass no more. I was with Jay for a minute. It was right before they went to the movies, too. But I don't know how she could know that."

  "Oooooh. That's what it is, girl. Maybe she found out."

  "Doubt it."

  "Can you really be sure?" I ask, understanding why Miss Sky is so mad.

  "I didn't tell her anything. I don't even want him seein' me right before he sees her. And I know Jay ain't sayin' shit. He don't even like admittin' he likes dark-skinned girls."

  "You right 'bout that. Like somethin's wrong with a piece of chocolate. Hell, I'm a red man and I loves me the chocolate boys, girl." I laugh.

  "But he says he isn't attracted to dark-skinned women," she responds, unmoved by my comment.

  I know it bothers her that she is dark, but really, she is gorgeous. It seems like as the years go by, her cheek-bones become more defined while her eyes widen and the scars from the fights she's been in all her life start to slowly fade. If she stops picking the bumps from the slight acne problem she has, she'll feel better about herself. But no matter how beautiful her eyes are and how gorgeous her smile appears, she is always sad. Me and Miss Daffany believe that if she gets her skin together she can even be a model, but she doesn't lis-26

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  ten to us. She thinks we feel sorry for her and are unwilling to tell the truth, like her stupid-ass mother and Miss Sky. But that is hardly the case.

  Her wretched-ass, jealous mother does a world of damage by telling her how unattractive she is every day she wakes up. When we were in elementary school, she came in our class and took a hat off Miss Parade's head, revealing the choppy hairstyle she gave her the night before. She claimed she was looking for the hat and didn't know Parade had it on, but all she did was torture the girl.

  "I hear what you sayin', baby, but Miss Sky is wrong - j
ust plain old wrong, chile. And that's why I'm glad you fuckin' her man. Miss Sky went overboard today, and that chile has smelled her own ass for far too long and she still don't think it stinks. So you do you, and don't worry with nothin' else."

  "Thanks, Miss Wayne," she says with a slight smile, but I can tell she still feels guilty for sleeping with Jay.

  "But, may I make a suggestion, honey?"

  "Sure," she says.

  "It don't make no sense you fuckin' that rich-ass nigga and you ain't got enough money to buy a decent pair of shoes. Jay should be payin' you at least half of what Miss Sky is gettin,' chile, if not more."

  "I know," she responds, sounding embarrassed,

  "but I'm not his girl."

  "Here's the thing. A man won't give you shit unless you ask him for it. You gotta make him feel like you deserve it, because you do. And then the money will T. Styles

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  come from everywhere, honey. Oooooh, girl, you'd have so many coins, you could buy your own fly shit and stop takin' what Miss Sky gives you." I laugh.

  "You think Miss Sky gotta ask Jay's ass for shit now?" I pause. "Hell no."

  She looks down toward the ground again, and this time I can tell she is on the verge of crying. "He ain't spending no real money on me. What we have is just sexual."

  "Why should he spend anythin' on you? You act like you don't deserve nothin', but you do, baby. You do deserve it," I say as I lift her head up. "Make his ass pay. Don't no pussy grow on trees, including yours." She looks sad, but I need to tell her the truth. Miss Parade has been passing out free pussy for far too long.

  I have to put an end to that shit.

  "I'm not good with askin' men for money. I don't even see how she does it."

  "Honey, I dooos it too. You do it just like this: You looks 'em up and down while they dick's in they hands and say, 'Ain't shit in life free so leave two hundred on the table, please.'"

  "I'm serious." She grins.

  "And so am I! You gotta pay the waiter after dinner is served, don't you?"

  She nods.

  "Well, there you go."

  She's laughin', and I am happy because Miss Sky broke her down lower than a hoe with no legs earlier in the car today.

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  "I'll try."

  "Yeah, you better, gurl."

  We finish talking as Miss Sky and Miss Daffany rejoin us. Apparently, Miss Sky isn't mad no more because she is finally talking to Miss Parade. I guess Miss Daffany told her about herself and this is her way of apologizing.

  "So we can go to LVL X to get you somethin' to put on, and you can grab some shoes in Off Broadway shoe store," Miss Sky commands.

  "Thanks, Sky. I have fifty dollars to put toward everything, too," Miss Parade obliges.

  "Keep that for your hair. I made appointments for us with Carol when I was in the store."

  "Well what about me?" I ask. "I need to find me somethin' to wear, too. Now, y'all ain't gonna be the only bitches flossin' tomorrow night."

  "Bitch, you betta spend your own money." Miss Sky laughs.

  "Why spend mine when I can spend yours?" I sass her.

  "And what are you wearing anyway?" Miss Daffany asks.

  "I don't know yet. The possibilities are endless, chile. Look at me. Could I look bad in anything?" We all laugh in the middle of the mall.

  ~~~~

  Let me tell you somethin' 'bout me. I'm gorgeous, baby. Like right now, I'm wearing my silk pants, cow-boy boots, red silk shirt and a touch of clear lip gloss.

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  My hair is smoothed back with a lil' bit of gel and, trust me, I look fierce.

  I like hangin' out with my girls because they draw attention. See, faggies are jealous and sneaky, and I don't need all that shit around me. Especially when I know I'm sneaky, too. I got one faggy friend I deal with for business purposes only, and that's Miss Rick. My other friend is Taylor, and although he's in the life, meaning he likes men, he doesn't act all wild and crazy like some gays. But most of the time, it's only business related. Now, if I hung out with every faggy on the street, I'd get into too much trouble. But, my girls, I've known them all my life. I trust them with my men and they trust me with theirs. I fuck the ones they don't want and warn them about the ones I want. It works out perfectly because I inform them about the ones I know are gay anyway.

  ~~~~

  We're finished shopping. Miss Parade has two outfits and two pairs of shoes while everybody else is loaded up and ready to go. I'm happy that Miss Sky dropped the money she did on Miss Parade. After all, the money is rightfully Miss Parade's, too, considering they're sleeping with the same man.

  Miss Parade fuckin' Jay may be wrong but if it wasn't her, it would be somebody else. Jay ain't no good, grant it, but Miss Parade snagging him proves my point that she can have any man she wants. Miss Sky being light-skinned ain't got nothin' to do with it. It's all about personality. She doesn't have to stick with the 30

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  short and stubby Melvin look-alikes just because she hasn't learned to appreciate her complexion.

  If you ask me, I think Jay's fucked Miss Daffany, too, but she'd never admit it. She don't tell us who she fucks in the Manor, even when we beg her. She says, "I don't give out the names of my clients." So we stop askin'. Probably because they'd fuck her up if they found out. Most of them are married so they're sleeping with her right under their wives' noses. I know I saw Jay crawlin' out of the same hole she did one day, but I could be wrong.

  ~~~~

  "Did you see that bitch's hair? It was a mess." Miss Sky laughs on the way out the mall's door.

  We turn around but must've missed the girl she is talkin' about because the one I see is attractive. Miss Sky's a troublemaker, always keeping up shit. Since I've been knowin' her, she's started at least fifty fights and got all of our asses locked up one night.

  "What you say, bitch?" the attractive girl says. I'm not surprised. "I know you ain't talkin' about nobody's hair," she continues as she and her friend approach us.

  Despite the evil look on her face, she is a pretty little thing. Looks like somebody's trophy for real. She has the Chinese cut with the spiky bangs and it's her natural hair, falling all the way down her back. She is killin' that cut. So, truthfully, I don't think Miss Sky was talking 'bout her, but at this point, it doesn't even matter.

  "Get out my face, bitch," Miss Sky says as she T. Styles

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  moves toward the door. Of course, Miss Parade appears to give her cover.

  Miss Parade is on it, too. She had dropped her bags and was ready to handle shit the moment the girl opened her mouth. She assumes her position, like she always does, in front of Sky as if she's her personal bodyguard or somethin'.

  "And what the fuck you wanna do?" the attractive woman asks Miss Parade. "Your friend real comical, talking about somebody's hair when yours look like some shit. Did you comb that shit or just gel it?" She has some girls with her and all are pointing and laughing at Miss Parade's hair. But Miss Parade ain't say nothing. She used to tell us all the time that she can tell who's scared by how much shit they talk when it's time to fight. She believes if they are really 'bout it, they won't be running their mouths.

  She is always ready to fight, and for real, I think she loves it. She told me that the reason she's won every battle is because she goes to a different place mentally.

  She thinks about every person who has ever done her wrong and takes it all out on her victim. All I know is whatever she does, it works. "Listen, sweetie, why don't you wiggle your little ass on down the hall 'cuz it is not that serious," I tell the bitch, honestly trying to prevent Miss Parade from getting out on her.

  "Are you serious? Aren't you
a little too big for those pants? What are you extra large and they're extra small? What possessed you to think--" the bitch utters.

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  "Bitch, shut the fuck up. I wasn't even talkin' to your simple ass anyway," Miss Sky retorts, "but just for stepping over here, you getting ready to get fucked up."

  "You wish, bitch," she argues as she moves closer to us with Miss Parade silent and in Miss Sky's way.

  Miss Daffany grabs everybody's bags and tucks them behind this trashcan in the corner. Although we are getting ready to get down, we all have our periph-eral vision glued to our gear in case somebody tries to take it. I know if that blueberry-colored top I just bought is stolen, there'll be a series of ass whippins in this mothafucka today.

  "Look, I'ma tell you one more time to get the fuck down the mall. You don't want none of this for real," Miss Daffany yells.

  By now, it's five girls with them and five girls with us because, when Miss Parade goes off, she makes two.

  "Fuck you, bitch," the girl says.

  Miss Parade steals the fuck out of her. She fights like a man and her punches are powerful. The girl tries to get up and starts swinging her arms wildly, but Miss Parade steals her ass again since her face is wide open.

  "That's how you fight, bitch?" Miss Parade asks as she hits her again, this time with a two-piece, extra crispy. "You ain't nothin' but a joke." The funny part about it is that her friends don't help. Blood from her mouth is dripping all over her clothes and on the floor. She's tryin' to get a lick in, but she ain't no match for Miss Parade. One of her wild-T. Styles

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  arm throws comes across Miss Parade's face, and she is pissed. Miss Daffany steps up to help, and the girl's friends are already running toward the door. We ain't have shit to do but watch.

  "Don't jump in, Daf. I got this bitch," Miss Parade tells her.

  We fall back and watch her as she damn near Laila Alis the girl. It's almost scary to watch - almost. None of us feel bad for not jumpin' in. Sky should yet don't.