Baby had a few tears trickling from her eyes. It was the first time that anyone had seen her vulnerable. She was upset. She rarely cried. “Look, just let me go, and I promise you, I won’t be a problem to anyone in this school. I’ll be low-key,” she said.
“Your reputation precedes you.”
“You’re new here; you don’t know me. You don’t even know this school. We can look out for each other.”
Samson laughed.
“Ya a military man, right? What branch?”
Samson didn’t answer her. Baby continued with, “My father was killed overseas when I was only thirteen. . . fighting an unjust war. And I look at you—”
“Look at me, what? I had nothing to do with your father’s death.”
“Please, just give me a second chance; I know you wish you had that yourself. I can see it in your eyes, the despair ... not being able to do what you love, and I can look at you and tell that you loved the service. What was it, a medical or dishonorable discharge?” she asked. “I’ll owe you, big time.”
Samson sighed. He dwelled on the thought of letting her go. He knew he had a job to do, and he was being paid to do it correctly—not to cut corners or negotiate with students, but the look in Baby’s eyes was captivating. She seemed convincing. She was cute and very well spoken for the hood-rat, evil young bitch the school portrayed her to be. There was a short moment of silence between them.
“I’ll give you one chance ... just this one chance,” Samson said.
He still held on to her book bag and looked reluctant to give it back to her.
Baby reached for her bag and said, “Thank you. Can I have my bag back?”
“I don’t wanna see you selling this shit in this school . . . not around me. I catch you again, and next time you will be taken in,” he warned sternly. Samson handed Baby her book bag. He couldn’t believe it.
Baby took her bag from him and stared at him for a moment. She smiled and said, “I owe you.”
“No, just stay out of trouble.”
Baby smiled, and then trotted down the stairway, leaving Samson in a look of semi bewilderment. He shook his head and lingered in the stairway for a moment. Doing security at a high school was going to be more difficult than he thought it would be. He just hoped that letting Baby off the hook didn’t come back to bite him.
Chapter 6
G.G., T.T., and Baby were chilling in T.T.’s apartment on the fourth floor. The cluttered bedroom was teeming with weed smoke, as the girls got high from the potent Kush that G.G. had rolled up earlier. Baby took a much-needed drag from the blunt and passed it to G.G. G.G. unwound from the cannabis seeping into her system like her bloodstream. She slouched across T.T.’s bed, clad in a pair of basketball shorts and a T-shirt. She tried to forget about her troubles on the streets. G.G. kept her problems quiet. She was always seen as the tough and unbreakable one—able to hold her own whenever, and hard to knock down. She hadn’t been home in three days, fearing the police were watching her crib. She stayed at a few friends’ places, and tried to duck police and Echo simultaneously. Money was becoming tight, and the streets were too hot. G.G. got word that Erica’s brothers were out for blood. Baby was on their hit list too. So the cousins had to watch their step and movements. Neither one showed any concern; they grew up around beef, gunplay, death, and gangsters. It was nothing new to them. They had problems before and always prevailed.
G.G. passed the burning blunt over to T.T., who sat by the window and peered outside. Her eyes were fixated on her little sister walking down Guy R. Brewer on her way home and heading into their building. T.T.’s little sister was the opposite of her and her friends.
T.T.’s sister, Gina, was sixteen, and into her books and working hard on getting her education and graduating from high school. She would be the first in her family to go to college. Whereas T.T. was a high school dropout at sixteen, and heavily into the streets, Gina had a clean record and was far removed from her older sister’s lifestyle. T.T. had so much love for her little sister. Gina was the good one, the one their parents would be proud of if they were still alive. But they died in a car accident when T.T. was fifteen. So, the sisters lived with their wild aunt, who was on welfare, section 8, smoked like a chimney and cursed like a sailor, and got into as many fights as T.T., sometimes more. Now and again, the two women, auntie and niece, fought together on the streets to solidify their hood-rat status in the neighborhood. But T.T. was proud of Gina; she was different and doing something with her life. T.T. couldn’t complain.
“Gina’s on her way up,” T.T. said to her friends.
G.G. and Baby had love for Gina too. She was nice and polite, smart, too. “That’s my girl,” said Baby. “She too quiet, though.”
“Yeah, she doin’ her thang,” replied T.T.
“That’s what’s up. I haven’t been seeing her around lately,” G.G. chimed.
“She too busy with school and bein’ in her books. She gonna come in here and head straight to her room and lock her door, probably studying or being online searching up shit,” T.T. said.
“I ain’t mad at that,” said Baby.
The trio continued smoking, passing the blunt around the room and listening to Lil Wayne’s CD. Baby took another pull, coughed, and suddenly mentioned, “Yo, we got this new school safety dude in my school, and he’s a cutie. I think he’s cool, too. Dude caught me slippin’ in the hallway and let me slide. I mean, wit’ a li’l persuasion, though.”
“What, you fucked him?” T.T. joked.
“Nah, but he can get it,” Baby returned with a smile. “I would fuck him.”
“Slut,” T.T. teased.
“Looks who’s talkin’ ...”
The girls laughed. But G.G. looked deep in thought about something. She lay on the bed, and was aloof for a moment. Her mind was on too many things—too many issues that she was dealing with. Money was becoming tight. She owed Echo two grand, and barely had a hundred dollars her name. Her mother wasn’t doing too well. G.G. was desperate for cash. Baby looked at her cousin and asked, “You okay, G.G.?”
“I’m good,” G.G. replied matter-of-factly.
To ease her nerves, G.G. took one last pull from the potent Kush, savoring the high. She closed her eyes and chilled on T.T.’s soft bed like it was a temporary paradise somewhere. She curled up against the cotton pillows for comfort and looked like she was ready to go to sleep. Suddenly she uttered, “If sex was like smoking and this bed, I probably have eight kids right now.”
“Your cousin is buggin’, Baby,” said T.T., laughing.
“She good,” Baby said. “Bitch is stupid high right now, and talkin’ some dumb shit.”
“I know, right ... Bitch, what you gonna do wit’ eight kids? Keep ya legs closed,” T.T. commented. “I’m not tryin’ to even have one right now.”
“I hear y’all bitches,” replied G.G.
“And ... we know you do, that’s why we sayin’ it,” T.T. joked.
G.G. rested on the bed. She wanted to black out everything in her world for a moment. At eighteen years old, G.G. was an O.G. in the streets. She’d been putting in work since she was twelve years old, and wasn’t planning on slowing down anytime soon.
T.T. heard the front door to the apartment open. She knew it was Gina coming in. T.T. took one last pull from the blunt and doused it in an ashtray. She left the room to greet her kid sister, while G.G. lay on the bed and Baby pulled out her cell phone to call J. Rock. The girls were in their own worlds at the moment.
Baby couldn’t wait to hear J. Rock’s voice. He picked up after the third ring. “Yo, who this?” he greeted in a rough and deadpan tone.
“It’s Baby, where you at?”
“I’m comin’ down Foch now. I’ll be out front in like ten minutes,” he said.
“A’ight, just hit me when you downstairs.”
“A’ight, ma ...”
Baby hung up with a smile on her face. She couldn’t wait to see J. Rock again. Her pussy tangled and smiled
when she heard his voice or when he came around. Baby was a helpless schoolgirl around J. Rock. She did whatever he wanted, but she hated that he was with Erica instead of her. She craved to be his number one wifey, and was ready to knock Erica out the box and become his main bitch. Baby wanted to prove to J. Rock that she could be his ride or die bitch. She had strength, street smarts, her crew, beauty, and her love. She was the total package.
Baby walked over to the window and looked outside. It was a nice fall afternoon. Everybody seemed to be outside enjoying the day. The fall breeze was comfortable, and the clear sky was welcoming. Baby couldn’t wait to jump into J. Rock’s black Dodge Charger. He had showy twenty-two-inch rims on his ride, with tinted windows, black and red leather interior, and an ear-piercing music system that could be heard from blocks away. The way J. Rock styled in his car—leaned back in his seat, profiling, and music blaring—was an immediate turn-on for her. She lost count of how many times J. Rock had fucked her in the back seat on late nights while parked somewhere secluded.
Baby looked over at her cousin resting on the bed. She walked over to G.G., nudged her gently and asked, “G.G., you okay?”
“I’m good, Baby. I’m just tired.”
“A’ight ... I’ma bounce, J. Rock’s picking me up,” Baby said.
“Don’t get pregnant, bitch,” G.G. stated.
“Like that would be a bad thang. Me and that nigga would have some fine-ass babies, fo’ real,” Baby replied.
“Well, I ain’t babysitting.”
“Whatever, bitch ... You know you gonna be the godmother to our babies.”
“I better,” G.G. said faintly, with her eyes closed and taking pleasure in resting in T.T.’s bed with the pillow pressed to her head.
Baby walked out of the bedroom and was highly excited. She walked by T.T., who was coming out of the kitchen. “Bitch, you leaving?” T.T. asked.
“Yup, J. Rock is meeting me downstairs.”
“Damn, don’t get pregnant, bitch,” T.T. clowned.
“What, you and my cousin in cahoots? She just told me the same shit in the bedroom,” said Baby.
“’Cause ya fast ass love you some J. Rock. I hope you got that nigga strappin’ up,” T.T. said.
Baby sucked her teeth and replied with, “Shit, sometimes. . . but I love it when that nigga be running up in me natural ... It ain’t nothin’ like the feel of hard skin running up in you.”
“Bitch, you’s a trip.”
“I know ... but y’all love a bitch anyway.”
Baby strutted out the door in a fresh pair of skintight jeans, her ass forming a near perfect bubble in the fabric, with her T-shirt highlighting her curves and luscious tits, and her white Nikes the color of clouds. Baby rushed into the elevator and descended to the lobby. She walked out of the elevator and into the streets just in time to see J. Rock pulling up in his Charger. She rushed over with a smile. J. Rock was double-parked out front with his system blaring Rick Ross’s “Maybach Music.”
Baby jumped into his ride and leaned over to kiss her boo, but when she tried to press her lips against his, J. Rock avoided the intimate kiss she wanted to give him, and pulled away, saying, “You know I don’t rock like that, Baby.”
Baby sucked her teeth and straightened herself up in her seat. She was disappointed. She wanted to show J. Rock some affection, even though they weren’t officially a couple. J. Rock was never with it. Baby knew that J. Rock was still upset with her because of what G.G. and her crew did to Erica the other day.
He had confronted her about it and had said, “Yo, why your cousin do that to my girl?”
“That bitch tried to jump me, J. Rock,” Baby had said.
When J. Rock said that about his girl, butterflies and upset swam around Baby’s stomach. She hated to hear him talk about Erica. In her mind, she was his boo and Erica was his dirty sidepiece.
“You know y’all got some heat over that shit with Erica outside of the school,” J. Rock had mentioned.
“So, what you saying, J. Rock? You ain’t got our back over this?”
“I’m just sayin’ ... that’s my bitch, Baby. How the fuck you think I’m gonna feel! Your cousin put her in the fuckin’ hospital.”
Baby had felt disgusted. She glared at J. Rock and had asked, “So, you tryin’ to go after my fuckin’ cousin?”
J. Rock had remained silent. Baby was hurt. She didn’t want to choose between J. Rock and her cousin. She loved them both. But her heart was with her cousin. Baby made up her mind that if J. Rock went after her cousin, then she would have her cousin’s back, no matter what happened—family came first. But J. Rock had said to her, “Just tell your cousin to be careful out there. I ain’t gonna put hands on her because of you. But if that bitch fucks wit’ my bitch again, then we ain’t gonna have this conversation anymore. I’ll let you know that now. It will get ugly.”
Baby felt some kind of way about his words and action, but she remained silent. She was definitely J. Rock’s bitch. Baby thought it was love, but he used her for his own personal gains and gratifications. That conversation about G.G. was three days ago. Since then, things had somewhat smoothed over with them.
J. Rock drove off, with Baby looking a bit gloomy in the passenger seat. She wanted to love J. Rock with all of her heart. She wanted to become his ride or die bitch within every inch of her flesh and soul, but there were always limits with him. Why couldn’t he love her completely? Erica was always getting in her way. Baby knew her place, but she wouldn’t hesitate to express how she felt about J. Rock and tear down Erica’s credibility.
J. Rock made a left on Linden Boulevard and drove toward the Van Wyck Expressway. Baby was quiet in her seat for a moment. When J. Rock merged onto the congested expressway, she finally asked, “Baby, where we goin’?”
“I gotta go take care of some business real fast. I wanted you to ride along,” he said.
Baby didn’t say anything else. She just went along with him like always. Any time that she got to spend with J. Rock was quality time for her, even when he put her life at risk with his treacherous lifestyle. But, her way of life was no different from his.
G.G. took a quick nap on T.T.’s bed. She woke up to the darkness engulfing outside the bedroom window. It was late evening. The bedroom was quiet. G.G. stretched and yawned, surprised that she slept for so long. Three hours had passed. She was tired. She had been on the go for a few days, trying to keep a low profile, and ducking her enemies.
G.G. stepped out of the bed just as T.T. was entering the bedroom.
“Damn, bitch ... I see you finally woke ya tired ass up,” T.T. said.
“Why you let me sleep so long?”
“You was tired. Shit, get ya rest, G.G. You know you’re family here,” T.T. said.
“What time is it?”
“Almost nine o’clock. I’m about to get dressed to go to work.”
“You still dancing at the spot?” G.G. asked.
“Yeah, I get my paper there. It be a’ight some nights, when niggas ain’t cheap. But I do me, I gets it in.”
G.G. had a thought about something. She took a seat on the foot of the bed and lit up a cigarette. She took a deep drag and looked at T.T. T.T. was rummaging around in her closet, trying to put an outfit together for tonight. She had clothes thrown about everywhere, from the bed to the floor. She was very messy. Her room was a pigpen. T.T. didn’t care about order; she didn’t clean much.
G.G. took another pull from the cancer stick. Her face showed that she was uncertain to ask T.T. a question, but she had no other options or choice. She needed extra income. T.T. was stripping away her clothing in front of G.G., her body oozing with sex appeal from head to toe. T.T.’s sexiness was always hidden away in loose attire—baggy jeans or sweatpants, shapeless T-shirts, Timberlands, and sneakers. She carried herself as a tomboy or hood rat on the streets—but at nights, in the depths of the underground strip clubs where sex sold, T.T.’s curvy and nude body would glisten with exertion as she pranced ar
ound horny and hungry men looking for a good time, and making her ends in the course while grabbing their crotches and allowing them to touch and feel on her juicy booty and curves. For the right price, a man could have his own personal fun with T.T.
T.T. moved around her bedroom in her panties and bra. She picked up a few things off the floor and tossed them on the bed. Her bedroom looked like Macy’s had exploded with clothing lying about everywhere.
“Damn, T.T., how come you never clean up?” G.G. asked.
“’Cause, I already know where everything is at ... I don’t give a fuck, yeah, I’m a messy bitch.”
G.G. shook her head.
“Anyway, G.G... . what you about to do? You gonna chill here tonight?”
“I don’t know. I was thinkin’ ’bout rollin’ wit’ you tonight.”
“What, to the club, to see me dance tonight? I thought that wasn’t ya thang,” said T.T.
“I’m sayin’ ... I ain’t got shit else to do,” G.G. replied.
T.T. shrugged. “Hey, you know I don’t give a fuck. I’ve been tellin’ you to come down and get money wit’ me for the longest. Shit, wit’ ya body, and ya looks, them niggas will go crazy over you. But you always looked at me crazy, and shit.”
“Things change.”
“Mm-hmm ... So, who you owe money to now, bitch?” asked T.T. with a raised eyebrow.
“Why I gotta owe money to someone?”
“’Cause I know you, G.G... . The only time you think about dancing wit’ me is when you owe some nigga out there some serious change.”
“T.T., just stay the fuck out my business, a’ight?” snapped G.G.
T.T. sucked her teeth. “A’ight, damn, you ain’t gotta get nasty wit’ it. But if you wanna roll, c’mon then ... I got you.”
G.G. looked reluctant at first. But she decided to roll with T.T. and see how things operated in the low-key clubs that T.T. danced in. She heard rumors of T.T. selling sex for cash. G.G. always thought she was above prostitution. It was a desperate act for cash for any woman, and G.G. would rather sell crack than give her body away for payment to some man she was not physically attracted to. The two friends had different views on the business.
Girls From da Hood 7 Page 21
