B-Careful

by Shannon Holmes

  Once again Netta was alone with her thoughts. However, her isolation didn’t last long, Rasheeda, Fila and Petey entered the room.

  “Netta!” They all seemed to say in unison.

  Individually they all went over to her, hugging and kissing Netta and wishing her well. Her eyes were wide as she soaked in all the love from the Pussy Pound. Netta couldn’t but wonder where the missing member, Mimi, was.

  “What’s up with Mimi?” Netta asked.

  Rasheeda responded, “She’s a mess. We don’t fuck wit’ her. Her ass strung out on dope.”

  “What?” Netta speculated. “I don’t believe you!”

  Netta was stunned by the news. This wasn’t your average he say she say or your typical ghetto gossip. This was a bad bone to put on someone if it weren’t true. So there must be some validity in what they were saying. Everyone couldn’t be conspiring to throw dirt on Mimi’s name.

  “You don’t gotta believe me,” Rasheeda answered. “Wait til you get up outta here. I guarantee you’ll hear about her. The streets can tell you better than me.” The information that she had received didn’t sit well with her.

  Netta was deeply disappointed in Mimi, her best friend, her ace, her everything, now turned drug addict. How or why Mimi got hooked on dope was beyond her. They all knew how she felt about drug usage. Netta had voiced her opinion on several different occasions.

  “I swear, I ain’t never going out like that. I’d rather die first than live like that. And if any of you bitches get hooked on dope, y’all cut the fuck off,” Netta once said.

  “Man, Mimi doin’ her,” Fila added. “She out there.”

  For once in her life Netta didn’t have too much to say about Mimi. She merely shook her head in disbelief, but behind that smile lay a totally different emotion, disgust. Her thoughts began to race. She remembered the countless times that she tried to school each member of the Pussy Pound. Sometimes she did it through hypothetical discussions. Sometimes allowing them to eavesdrop on her phone conversations that she had with a particular hustler, just so they could see for themselves just how she played them.

  “Like Rasheeda said, the streets can tell you better than we can,” Fila told her. “You’ll see.”

  Netta was disgusted. Her emotions were hard to hide while her thoughts began to race.

  “I swear, I ain’t ever goin’ out like that. I’d rather die first than be a dope fiend,” she said.

  Netta spoke with conviction, always giving her clique the best advice that she could. She had no compassion or sympathy for a dope fiend or any kind of drug addict for that matter. Her childhood had been marred by her mother’s drug abuse.

  In light of her current situation and Mimi’s drug habit, Netta was beginning to rethink this whole Pussy Pound situation. Maybe she never should have been a part of it in the first place, quickly becoming it’s leader. Was it possible that she had corrupted them? Thus she had to take the blame for whatever happened thereafter. Netta’s prolonged stay in the hospital had caused her to experience a feeling very foreign to her...regret.

  Quickly, Netta shook off that thought. She reminded herself that the Pussy Pound was never naïve or innocent to begin with. However, maybe she should have let someone else take the reins. She had been instrumental in making their lives so comfortable, their hustle so easy, while hers had been anything but.

  Once upon a time ago, Netta felt like she was giving them too much game. She had to check Mimi hard when she had gotten beside herself.

  “I taught you everything you know, not everything I know,” Netta once told her.

  In her bitterness she reminded herself that she should have known better, especially about Mimi. Their friendship had blinded Netta to her faults and weaknesses. She couldn’t make Mimi be her friend, especially now in her time of need. Netta knew things not given freely like love, then loyalty was never worth having, especially from a so-called friend.

  Netta hated to admit it, but maybe they were wrong for each other from the start, her, Mimi and the entire Pussy Pound. Maybe they weren’t built for the game like she was. It took a certain type of bitch to succeed at this shit, one who was heartless and ruthless. Netta had embodied those two traits while the other members of the Pussy Pound only pretended that they had it.

  Netta was coming to the slow realization that these chicks weren’t built for this type of hustle. They were all fair-weather friends who loved her for who they thought she was.

  Right then and there, Netta decided to fall back and let the Pussy Pound do them.

  “We can’t wait til you get the fuck up outta this hospital, it’s gonna be on……” Petey said, eagerly anticipating Netta’s release from the hospital.

  Netta thought, I’m not fuckin’ around no more. You bitches can do whatever y’all like. I’m done!

  Black had given her a real reason to change her lifestyle. It’s funny how a brush with death can change one’s perspective on life.

  Netta sat in the bed and faked a smile. She knew her immediate future didn’t involve any member of the Pussy Pound. She didn’t long to be in their presence as she once had. She didn’t crave being the center of attention, the center of their universe. She was going about her business without them and hoped that they would do likewise.

  Now, the Pussy Pound was old news to her. She was putting them and every other bad experience she had in the streets behind her. That life she was living was pointless. Those material things that she attained were now worthless.

  An hour after they had gone, Tone returned to the hospital. He sat next to her on the edge of the bed. Netta wondered if now would be a good time to bring up what she had been thinking. She needed some clarity on a subject. Netta was developing feelings for Tone. Now that she knew the truth, who was she to downplay her emotions; she’d be lying to herself if she didn’t acknowledge them.

  Tone had come into her life and made an immediate impact on her. She felt a deep sense of gratitude toward him for everything he had done, including saving her life. Still, she was unsure on where they stood. Was this thing that they were doing going to lead to a relationship? They were beginning to spend a great deal of time together. Before things went any further, Netta needed to know.

  “Tone, I been wonderin’…..” she began, “….I fucks wit’ you. You definitely my type. But I need to know what we doin’. We gone be together? Or is you just comin’ up here everyday cause you feel sorry for me?”

  “Nah Netta, it ain’t like that,” Tone explained. “You already know I fuck wit’ you. But if you need me to make dis shit official, then the answer is yeah, we together.”

  If Netta was who Tone wanted to be with, then she wanted to be with him. She knew if her feelings weren’t genuinely reciprocated, then she wouldn’t force the issue. She just needed to feel like she really mattered to him.

  Netta answered, “I don’t know what ya situation is, but I can only imagine that you got somebody or somebodies. You can’t tell me otherwise. So what I’m tellin’ you is, take care of whatever it is you gotta take care of. I ain’t tryin’ to be a part of no love triangle. I want a monogamous relationship. We not goin’ to entertain other people. If we gone do this, we gone do this right, or not at all.”

  Although they hadn’t known each other long, Tone knew this was where he wanted to be. He had come to that conclusion after the first conversation they had. Tone felt like he never connected with any other female, including his girlfriend Sonya, like he had with Netta. It had grown so strong, so fast. Everything was so real with them.

  With that in mind, Tone knew what he had to do, leave Sonya. Which was probably easier said than done.

  “I got you,” Tone said confidently. “It’s a done deal. I’ma live up to my part of the bargain, home girl.”

  This was the most intimate conversation the two of them had, relationship wise. It felt good for Tone to be real with Netta. He promised himself that he would make a concerted effort to always keep it real with her. She dese
rved it and so did their relationship.

  “Yeah, you do that,” Netta replied without giving him a chance to make more promises. “If this is what you want, you better act like it.”

  13

  As a result of the conversation Tone had with Netta earlier, he was in a quiet mood. He drove home wondering just how he was going to break it off with his current girlfriend, Sonya, without getting into a big argument or a physical confrontation. Realistically, Tone knew that probably wasn’t going to happen. Whatever the outcome was, he knew it needed to be done. It was time to place all of his cards on the table, if he wanted this relationship with Netta to work.

  Tone continued to make his way home while various scenarios played out in his head. He could try to anticipate Sonya’s reaction all he wanted to, however, he wouldn’t know exactly what she was going to do until he broke the news to her.

  After lying in the bed for most of the day crying her eyes out, Sonya couldn’t sleep. The constant rumble in her stomach reminded her just how hungry she was. Her body needed some nourishment, she hadn’t eaten all day. She ignored the hunger pains until they became too unbearable. She got up out of the bed, put on a robe and headed downstairs to the kitchen to make herself a quick sandwich or something.

  Sonya flicked the lights on in the kitchen before going over and opening the refrigerator. The well stocked fridge held too many options, none of which she really wanted to explore at the time. She didn’t want anything she had to reheat or throw in the microwave, like leftovers. She loved ramen instant soups, but she didn’t have the energy to make that. At this point all she wanted was to quell the noises in her stomach.

  Suddenly, Sonya turned her attention to the fruit bowl, where colorful and delicious looking oranges, apples and bananas sat. She tore off a banana from the bunch, hoping it would do the trick. She took two bites of the banana before tossing the remainder of the fruit in the trash. Grabbing a glass of water to wash it down, she forced herself to swallow.

  Instantly, her stomach seemed to settle down. Now if she could only get something to solve the rumblings in her heart.

  As she leaned against the sink finishing up her glass of water, the day’s events began to flash through her mind. Her worst fears had been confirmed. She felt she was justified in following Tone when she discovered that he was going to see a female at the hospital. Sonya didn’t have to catch him in the act of cheating. Her intuition told her everything she needed to know. Now all that was on her mind was, where do they go from here?

  Sonya turned to leave the kitchen after placing the glass in the sink. When she heard the sound of Tone’s car pulling up, she decided to stay right where she was at so that she could confront him as soon as he opened the door.

  “We need to talk,” Sonya blurted out as soon as he walked through the door. “Right now!”

  Cautiously, Tone entered the kitchen feeling a little uneasy, wondering what Sonya wanted to talk about.

  Something in his mind told him, Go head and admit it. Tell her you cheating. Tell her you love her, but you not in love with her.

  “Yo, you got somethin’ you wanna tell me?” she asked.

  Tone looked at his girlfriend without saying a word, a puzzled expression donned his face as if he didn’t have the slightest idea of what she was talking about. Even if he did, he wasn’t going to volunteer any information. Tone was smart enough not to tell on himself.

  “So, where you been all day?” Sonya continued. “Gettin’ money? Sellin’ drugs? Or maybe baggin’ up some coke? Am I missin’ somethin’? Cause these some of your favorite excuses.....”

  Sonya paced the kitchen floor like she was a prosecutor making her closing arguments to the jury.

  She continued, “....Or maybe fuckin’ wit’ some bitches, huh? Yeah, that sounds about right. What you have to say about that one, Tone?”

  Sonya’s comment was met with silence as Tone refused to be baited into going down that path. Rather than defending himself, he wanted Sonya to reveal her hand.

  Just what was she getting at, he wondered. “I was outside, handlin’ my business, makin’ moves. You know, regular shit.” he responded. “Why?”

  “No, I don’t know, tell me. Or maybe I should tell you,” she explained. “How’s that lil bitch at the hospital you been seein’? What’s that all about? Huh?”

  How she find out about Netta? Tone thought.

  “Nigga, you thought you was slick? But yo ass is busted,” she commented. “I knew you was doin’ somethin’, I just didn’t know with who. You fuckin’ Shanetta Jackson? You takin’ this bitch flowers and shit....”

  “Busted doin’ what? She’s just a friend.” Tone denied all the allegations his girlfriend was making.

  “Ya friend my ass,” Sonya vowed. “You must think I’m super stupid. But my thing is this, you runnin’ ‘round here actin’ like I’m da muthafuckin’ problem. When the whole time it’s you. You seem to have a problem keepin’ ya dick in your pants.”

  “You buggin’ right now,” he suggested.

  “Yeah, nigga, I heard that before, too many times. All I ever asked you was not to lie to me and don’t bring me back no fuckin’ STD,” she said.

  It wasn’t exactly bitterness in her voice when she spoke to Tone, it was more like frustration. Sonya felt she deserved better than this. However, Tone knew that falling for Netta was not in the plan. It was something that just happened.

  Sonya felt so stupid, she was young, dumb, and in love. Caught up in her college studies and her sorority functions. Overall she was emotionally spent trying to make a husband out of a hustler. Trying to change a person who didn’t necessarily want to change. Someone who wasn’t loyal to her. Someone who loved the excitement of new pussy.

  Tone stood there expressionless as Sonya went through her theatrics. Her performance was really starting to get under his skin.

  “If you not fuckin’ this bitch, who is she to you? Why are you takin’ her roses up at the hospital?” she asked. “Tone, I’m tellin’ you, you better have a good excuse, like this bitch is ya long lost relative that you just found out was terminally ill.... If you don’t have a damn good explanation, it’s over!” she snapped.

  Tone didn’t see the point in explaining his position any more. He saw a way to get out of this relationship without causing unnecessary harm to a woman he loved but was no longer in love with, so he took it.

  “Yo, this shit ain’t workin’ out for neither one of us. Maybe it’s better if we go our separate ways. I don’t wanna stress you out no more than I already have,” Tone stated.

  Sonya’s blood began to boil. She couldn’t believe her ears. She loved Tone dearly, but lately they were just drifting apart, in every aspect she could think of, mentally, emotionally and even sexually. The fact that he could just break up with her so easily and that he could say it so matter-of-factly angered her. She unleashed a verbal tirade on him, spewing venom everywhere.

  This can’t be happening, Sonya thought. She was stressed out in every sense of the word. She had put her heart and soul into this man and all she got in return was rejection.

  “So you really think that this girl could love you like I do? You willin’ to throw this away for her? Nigga, she gone be gone soon as ya money get funny. If you wasn’t doin’ good you think she’d even want you? If you do, you better think again. That bitch ain’t nuttin’ but a gold digger. I helped you get on, she ain’t gone do nuttin’ but help you spend that money and disappear when it’s gone. You don’t even know her.”

  Sonya paused for a moment to let her words sink in as she glared evilly at Tone.

  She continued. “Fuck you and that bitch, nigga. I hope you fuckin’ die. You and that bitch can go to hell!” She cursed. “Bitch ass nigga.... If it wasn’t for me ya ass would be up in New York broke. Nigga, I’m the one that brought ya dirty ass down here.... Now that you on ya feet you actin’ real funny. You know, I liked you better when you was broke. Niggas get a couple dollars and get brand new. N
igga you ain’t shit, fuck you and ya money. Let’s see if that bum bitch, Nita, Netta, whatever the fuck her name is, will help you get back on when you fall off... ”

  A tearful Sonya looked Tone dead in his eyes and shook her head. She wanted to ask, How could they make things right? How could they work this out? However, her pride wouldn’t let her utter those words.

  Tone just stood there and let her vent. He knew he should have parted ways with her by now. The longer he stayed the more emotionally charged the situation could get. The less I say the quicker this whole situation will be over with, he thought.

  Just take the high road, my nigga. Don’t feed into her nonsense.

  Sonya continued on for a while until finally Tone interrupted her.

  “You done?” he said coolly. “Cause I’m goin’ upstairs and grab some things. I’m out.”

  As Tone passed her to exit the kitchen, he studied Sonya closely. In her face he saw signs of old hurts, pain that he had already caused her, that she had been carrying around with her for a long time. He didn’t know what to do but leave. Things were turning uglier by the second.

  “Do it fuckin’ look like I’m fuckin’ done?” Sonya snapped. “You fuckin’ loser! I’m still talkin’...... You gone regret this shit one day, watch....”

  Sonya blurted out whatever came to her mind, everything she was feeling and all her anger seemed to surface at once. Everything that she had been secretly thinking, she voiced.

  Her anger had made Tone keep his distance. In her emotional state he thought anything could happen. A physical altercation could erupt between them at any moment.

  Tone went upstairs to the bedroom, gathered up a few items of clothes, his money and whatever amount of drugs he had stashed in the house. Sonya followed him everywhere he went, cursing, screaming and even threatening to call the cops.

  “You know karma is a muthafucka, Tone. The same way you did me, I hope this bitch do you ... Even twenty times worst!” she announced.