by Silhouettes
Ms. Macklin halted her steps and folded her arms in front of her. “Craig, get back to taking your test. I’ll be in the hall for a few minutes and I don’t want any talking in here.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Craig said, lowering his head.
I stood outside of the door while Ms. Macklin stood in front of me with a mean mug. She looked pissed, and it messed me up how I could easily get her attention.
“Have you been smoking something?” she asked.
Like always, I knew my eyes were red as fire and it was obvious that I had been smoking. Still, I lied. “No, ma’am. I’m just tired, that’s all.”
“That’s not the truth and you know it. If you are caught smoking anything in this school, you will be expelled. I suggest you think about your actions, Jamal, and get your act together. You’re not focusing in class, and every time I look at you, you’re drifting off somewhere. Why aren’t you focusing in class?”
I shrugged, refusing to tell her the real reason why. “Like I said, I’m just tired. I don’t get energized until fourth or fifth hour.”
“Well, you need to start getting energized in my class. You’ve made some simple mistakes on your test and I want you to redo it.”
“That ain’t gon’ happen. I’ll make it up with extra credit or somethin’, but I don’t feel like retakin’ that test.”
She shook her head from side to side with disgust. “You will retake it, and I’m going to speak with the coach about your lack of participation in my class. If you can stay focused on the field, you can do so in class too.”
“But it ain’t like you’re on the field.”
She pursed her glossy, juicy lips. “What is that supposed to mean?”
I dropped my head, feeling that if she wanted the truth, then I would give it to her. After all, the truth was supposed to set you free, right? “I can’t stay focused, ma, ’cause my thang be jumping out of my pants in your classroom. It can’t contain itself, ’cause you fine as ever and—”
Ms. Macklin pointed down the hall. “I’m not your darn ma, and you need to go to the office, right now! You will not disrespect me. I am disgusted by your behavior.”
I defensively held out my hands. “You asked me to tell the truth. Why I gotta get in trouble for tellin’ the truth or for sayin’ how I feel? My bad for offendin’ you, but—”
“Go!” she yelled.
I bit my bottom lip, trying to prevent myself from going off. Instead, I flipped my hoodie over my head, eased my hands into my pockets, and slowly walked to the principal’s office. It was already packed with students, so instead of waiting around to see Mr. King, I left. I knew I’d be in trouble, but what the hell. Two or three days of suspension would give me a chance to catch up on some of the sleep I’d been missing.
When I got home, my mama was sitting at the kitchen table smoking a Virginia Slim and counting a stack of crinkly, dirty dollars.
“Prince,” she said, referring to me by my middle name. “What are you doin’ home so early?”
“We had a half day,” I said, looking into the empty refrigerator. “Why we ain’t never got nothin’ in this muthafucka to eat?”
“Why you ain’t got no muthafuckin’ job? If you want to eat, then go get a job. Don’t be comin’ up in here complainin’ about what you ain’t got. Raylo and me put nice-ass clothes on your back, and it wouldn’t hurt for you to pitch in and take care of yourself.”
I ignored my mama’s comments. She was supposed to provide for me since I in no way, asked to be here. It was her responsibility to feed me, and even though she made sure that I had some of the finest clothes there were, I couldn’t eat them. I slammed the refrigerator and headed off to my room. I closed the door, and fell back on my bed. My room was junky as hell, and it had been at least six months since my mama had been in here to clean it. I had a pile of clothes in one corner that needed to be washed, a trash can oozing over with trash was in another corner, and the musty smell could easily be toned down with Febreze. Still, my room was the only place where I could get peace of mind, and I rarely stayed anywhere else in our cramped two-bedroom house.
I reached for the football next to me and started tossing it in the air. I feared that Coach Johnson would cut me from the team, especially if he found out what had happened today. A part of me really didn’t care, but then again, I did. I would miss all of the attention I got from playing, but more so all of the attention from girls. My phone stayed busy from them calling, but I really didn’t have feelings for anybody. I guess I’d been too wrapped up with my thoughts of Ms. Macklin, but after today, she showed me that these feelings I had were not mutual. It was time to move on, I guessed, but I couldn’t say that I was ready to give up.
I stayed in my room, trying to figure out how to get some money so I could get something to eat. I called Romeo’s phone several times, but got no answer. Normally, his grandmother didn’t have anything in the fridge to eat either, so that meant going to the corner store to stock up on a few items. It was a bit nippy outside, as the fall weather had just started to kick in. I put my hoodie over my head, tucked my Glock inside my pants, and eased my hands into my pockets. As I walked down Martin Luther King Boulevard, the first thing I saw was a prostitute approaching a white man in a car. She talked to him for a while, and soon after got inside of his car. He sped off into an alley, and a part of me couldn’t blame her. Like me, I guess she felt the need to do whatever she had to do to get by.
Before I reached the corner store, I looked inside of a pawn shop’s window, admiring the jewelry. One day I’d be able to go inside and buy whatever I wanted. There was a nice-ass platinum chain on display, and bling was everywhere. I could visualize that shit around my neck, and if they didn’t have so much surveillance, I would bust inside and take what I wanted. Instead, I moseyed on down the street, making my way into the corner store.
As I entered, my eyes connected with the Arabian man behind the counter. He’d seen me in his store before, and always kept his eyes on me. I went up and down the aisles, licking my dry lips at everything I saw. My stomach growled at a package of Hostess Cupcakes and I held them in my hand. A bag of Hot Fries and a cold soda sounded pretty good too, so I searched for those, and then held them in my hands as well. My eyes turned to the Arabian man at the counter, and, as he was waiting on a customer, I put the soda in my pocket and tucked the cupcakes underneath my hoodie. I spotted a cold cut sandwich that I wanted, so I picked that up too. My eyes turned to the Arabian man again, but this time he waved for me to come up front.
“Are you finished?” he asked.
I cleared my throat and made my way to the counter. I put the Hot Fries and sandwich on the counter. He rang up my items, but I didn’t have any money to pay. I patted my back pockets, pretending as if I’d lost my money.
“Damn,” I said. “I thought I . . .”
The man stood stone-faced. Obviously, he knew I was bullshitting, so I made another move. I lifted the front of my hoodie, displaying my Glock.
“Don’t start none, won’t be none. I’ll bring your money back to you tomorrow. As you can see, I’m runnin’ a li’l short on change.”
The Arabian man’s eyes shifted to his side. I knew he kept his piece behind the counter, but his ass had to get to it.
I touched the top of my gun, implying that I would use it. “You don’t want to lose your life over three fuckin’ dollars, do you? I said I’d bring the money back to you tomorrow, nigga, now chill.”
He said not one word. I swiped up the items on the counter and left the store. I wasn’t sure if I was going to catch a bullet in my back, but if I was going to, I’d do so with a damn good sandwich in my mouth. By the time I got home, the sandwich was gone and so were the rest of the items I’d stolen. For me, this was an almost daily routine. I was running out of stores in my neighborhood to go to. In the past and, going forward, this was how things had to be for a street solider.
Chapter 2
Mama entered my room, sprayi
ng a can of Lysol in the air. With her house shoe she flattened a roach crawling up the wall, then smacked it on the floor. I was on the phone talking to Nadine while smoking my leftover blunt.
“This is ridiculous,” Mama yelled while observing my room, particularly the provocative posters of naked black women I had on my wall. She hated the posters. “Boy, you need to get off that bed, put that joint aside, and clean up!”
Embarrassed by the unnecessary noise Mama was making, I hit the mute button.
“Why you all up in my room makin’ that noise? Can’t you see I’m on the phone?”
Mama snatched the phone from my hand and hung up on Nadine. She then took the last inch of my joint, placing it into her shirt pocket. She got high too, so I knew she’d use it for her purposes as well.
“Don’t be smokin’ my shit. But if you do, I must warn you, that shit is fire.” I laughed.
She slapped me on the back of my head, continuing to gripe about my room. “When are you goin’ to do somethin’ about this? How can you lay up in here like this?”
I stood up and picked up a pair of socks and underwear that were on my floor. “I’ma clean it up, but I thought you would hook it up for me. I tell you, as soon as I turned sixteen, you cut my ass off! No food, no cleanin’, no nothin’.”
Mama pointed her finger at me. “You damn right I did. You need to grow the fuck up, Prince, and learn how to take care of yourself. I’m not gon’ be sniffin’ behind your ass all my life, and I feel deeply sorry for the woman who has to live with you.”
The phone rang and Mama got to it before I did. “He’s not here,” she yelled into the phone. “Call him back later!”
I hated when Mama got into my personal business. I stayed out of hers, and when she got into her li’l arguments, I turned up my music on my iPod to tune her out. My video games kept me occupied too, or I grabbed the phone to chat with some of the dimes in my classrooms. They all be trying to throw that pussy at me, especially since I was considered an outstanding athlete. I was the baddest running back North High School had ever had. My coach be on my ass about challenging myself, but I ain’t feeling all of that. I liked playing football, but I ain’t trying to make it no career.
I stood by my bed, wanting to curse Mama out for dissing the person who had just called. This is how we got along, so, at times, I didn’t take her actions too personally. She made up my bed for me, then sat on the edge of it. Afterward, she lit the joint she’d put in her pocket and crossed her legs. It was customary for us to get down like that sometimes, smoking joints and drinking beers; we had been doing so since I was about thirteen. Mama had me when she was seventeen years old and she was still young at heart.
“This is some good shit,” she spat while inhaling. “Where did you get this from?”
“From Romeo. I think he got it from his uncle.”
“Is Romeo sellin’ it?”
“Yes.”
“Are you?”
“I was, but not anymore.”
Mama took another hit from the joint, and then passed it back to me. “Raylo and me goin’ out tonight. I’ll be back later. Keep them bitches at a distance. I don’t like them comin’ to my house and I don’t like them callin’ here so much. That Nadine is workin’ my nerves. I swear she calls here almost every ten minutes.”
High as ever, I told Mama that I would correct Nadine for calling so much. But as soon as Mama and Raylo left, I called Nadine to come over. She was there within the hour, and, by then, my room had been tidied and the Lysol was working its magic. She’d bought me some McDonald’s, and I sat on the bed, chomping down on my saucy Big Mac and licking the salt from the fries off my fingers.
“Boy, slow down,” Nadine said, standing in front of my dresser. “You gon’ choke yourself.”
I wiped my mouth with my hand, and within minutes, I was finished. I tossed the bag in the trash and sat against the headboard with my shirt off.
“Why you way over there, ma?” I asked Nadine. “You can sit on my bed. I promise you that I won’t bite.”
Nadine laughed and carefully eased onto my bed. She wore a purple sweat suit and clean white Nike tennis shoes. Her hair was neatly combed back, but flipped at the ends. She was definitely my flava and resembled Raven-Symoné. Even so, I was out for one thing, and one thing only.
“You know you gon’ be in trouble tomorrow for leaving school, don’t you?” she said.
I shrugged. “I predict that I will be, but oh well. Did Ms. Macklin say anything about me after I left?”
“Nope, but I heard her on the phone, talking to another teacher. She mentioned your name, but I can’t really say what they were talking about.”
The phone rang, and when I looked to see who it was, I saw that it was another girl from school who I had given my number to. I’d already gotten into those panties, so I ignored the call. Instead, I scooted down on the bed, moving closer to Nadine. We had been spending an enormous amount of time on the phone, and it was time for her to put up or shut up. As she sat next to me, I lay back with my hands behind my head, looking up at the ceiling. Nadine leaned over me and used her fingers to trace my mother’s name tattooed on my chest.
“Who is Shante?” she asked.
“My mother.”
“Why you got tats all on your arms like that? I like how you got ‘Street Soldier’ tatted north to south on your chest. That’s dope, and I saw the same thing on Romeo. Y’all think y’all ballers or something?”
“I am a baller. Don’t nobody run that ball like me, and you know that. Besides, I like my tats. Are you sayin’ you don’t like the other ones?”
“Oh, I love them. I think they hooked up. I was just asking.”
“Can I ask you somethin’ then?” I asked. Nadine nodded. “Can I have a kiss?”
She smiled, then leaned in closer to me so we could kiss. As far as I was concerned, I was a good kisser. Nadine, though, wasn’t. Like always, I worked with what I had, and when I tried to unzip her jacket, she stopped me.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
I sighed. She knew damn well what I was getting to. “What does it look like?”
She slowly sat up, gripping the top of her jacket. “I . . . I need to tell you something, Prince.”
I could feel the bullshit coming down. “What?”
“I didn’t come over here to have sex with you.”
I quickly sat up. “Then what did you come over here for? You knew what I wanted, didn’t you?”
She swallowed and lowered her eyes to the ground. “Yes, but I wanted to wait for that. I thought that we could hook up as boyfriend and girlfriend, then sex between us would happen.” She looked at me. “Besides, I’m a virgin and I wanted my first time to be with someone special.”
“What in the hell do you think this is? We’ve been talkin’ on the phone for weeks, ma. I thought you were down with this, and if you prefer that we’re boyfriend and girlfriend, then cool. Now what?”
“Are you serious? Don’t be playing with me, boy, just so you can get some.”
I stood up and stretched. Nadine’s eyes were all over my chiseled body, but I could tell she needed to be a bit more persuaded.
“Look,” I said. “This ain’t no game, baby. I’m with you on this, and all it is is sex. We don’t have to commit ourselves just because we’re havin’ sex, do we?”
Nadine rolled her big, round, pretty eyes. “I’m not saying all of that, but I want to get something out of this, Prince. I see how you do them other girls, and I want things to be different between you and me.”
I kneeled down in front of her, touching her hands to make her comfortable. “Things with us will be different. I ain’t feelin’ those other girls, but I like the hell out of you. Come on, take your clothes off, all right?”
“What about Ms. Macklin? I see how you be looking at her, and that shit drives me crazy.”
“Please. I have a crush on Ms. Macklin, but that woman ain’t thinkin’ about me. I know you a
in’t trippin’ off her, are you?”
Nadine looked down again and fumbled with her fingernails. I could tell she was nervous, but I was anxious. “Please,” I begged.
She hesitated, then answered. “Go turn off the lights.”
“For what? Don’t you want to see me in action?”
She chuckled, then slightly pushed my shoulder. “I’m sure I’ll feel you and that’s enough. If I tell you to stop, Prince, then you’d better do it. Now, go turn off the lights so I can get undressed.”
Just for the hell of it, I gave Nadine a lengthy kiss and turned off the lights. My tiny room was pitch-black. I removed my jeans and underwear, and waited on the bed until I felt Nadine’s thick, naked body on top of mine.
“Do you have any condoms?” she whispered.
“No, I don’t. I gotta get to the store to get some, but I don’t have time to go get them right now. I swear I’ll have one next time, and when I bust this nut, I’ll pull out, okay?”
Nadine didn’t say a word. Our tongues intertwined and my hands roamed her curvaceous body. She was stacked and my dick couldn’t help but jump to get at her. I laid her back on the squeaky, spring-filled mattress, and positioned myself to enter her. I barely cracked her code before she started complaining.
“Easy, Prince,” she groaned. “Go real, real slow.”
I did my best to take it easy, but seeing Nadine’s light-colored breasts bounce around in the dark turned me on. Her goods were nearly suffocating my thang, but the warmth and tightness of her insides made me want to cum fast. Controlling myself a bit longer was a mind thing, but, for now, my mind was telling me to come inside of this trick and save the rest for another day.
Nadine managed to handle the semi-beating I’d put on her pussy, and it cooled down when my sperm swam inside of her. The fifteen minutes that she’d remember for the rest of her life were now over, but our time together meant nothing to me. I couldn’t count how many virgins I’d been into, and had lost count of the girls I’d had sex with. They made this shit too easy, and it was pretty cool to get sex when I wanted it, how I wanted it, and where I wanted it. After today, I was sure Nadine would accommodate any future needs I would have, and the way she’d cut up throughout our short time together implied just that.