by Lucinda John
“Umm… no,” I meekly replied.
“Then keep your eyes to yourself, unless you got a problem you need to solve.” Miami stared at me for a few seconds before returning his attention back to the front of the class.
Well, fuck you too then. Rude bitch.
L il Eater: Why yo’ girl came to school all sad and shit? You forgot the bitch’s birthday or some shit?
Me: Aye, man, watch yo’ fuckin’ mouth before I break yo’ fucking jaw.
Lil Eater: LOL, yeah, wateva.
“You came over here to see your son or to text on that damn phone?” Tanya asked, looking up at me.
Slipping the phone in my pocket, I walked over to the bassinet. “Let me see my lil nigga,” I spoke before reaching down and picking him up.
“Nah, use the hand sanitizer first.” Tanya pointed to the big bottle of hand sanitizer that sat on her dresser.
After cleaning my hands, I reached in and picked up my two-week-old son for the first time. I had my reservations about him being my youngin’, but the moment the DNA test came in and confirmed the lil nigga was mine, I vowed to handle my business.
“Oh, now he’s your lil nigga. I been telling you he was yours, but you wanted to act like I didn’t know who the fuck I let nut in me.” Tanya snaked her neck from side to side while she talked.
“Stop acting like I ain’t get out of jail and find you fucking some bum ass nigga.” I reminded her of her indiscretions.
Before I got locked up on a bullshit ass drug charge, Tanya and I were rocking real tough. She was my shorty, so I made sure she wanted for nothing. When I got knocked, she held it down and did her part but had some square ass, trust fund nigga she was fucking with. She swore she was using him for his money, yet she kept fucking with the nigga. When Tanya came crying to me, saying she was pregnant, I packed my shit and moved out of her crib. She had me fucked up if she thought I was going to take care of another nigga’s baby.
“And stop acting like you didn’t benefit from me fucking with that nigga! You came home to a place to stay, clothes and shoes to wear, and money to re-up with. Stop playing like my pussy ain’t put you back on, nigga!” Tanya belligerently yelled in my face.
Cradling my son with my left hand, I reached in with my right hand and gripped Tanya tightly around her neck. A deep scowl penetrated my face as I watched her claw at my hand while I cut her air supply off. It was comical how a second ago she was talking big shit, but now her ass was at my mercy.
“I will kill you if you make me drop my son.” I grilled her ass before allowing her to regain her breath.
“I’m not that square ass nigga, Tanya. That fly shit coming out your mouth will get you hurt!” Glaring at her ass one final time, I walked out of the room with my son sleeping peacefully in my arms, unaware of what was going on.
Taking a seat on the couch, I pulled out the phone to hit up my shorty. I felt like shit for spazzing out on Hennessey this morning, especially since a nigga forgot it was her birthday.
Me: Sup shorty, let your girls know I’m picking you up from school today, ONLY YOU, tho!
My Shorty: K.
Placing my phone back in my pocket, I gave my son all my attention. Just knowing I had a mini-me depending on me made me want to go harder with this hustling shit. I wasn’t where I once was two years ago, but I was still out here making noise. With the money Tanya stashed for me, I was able to re-up with some of the purest coke to ever touch the East. I was that nigga to see on the block. Slowly but surely, I was coming for everything that rightfully belonged to me. A hungry, young nigga like me from the hood didn’t have dreams of becoming a doctor or a lawyer. I had plans to be the biggest hood pharmacist in my city.
“Now that you know KJ is yours, when are you coming back home?” Tanya walked into the living room and took a seat on the couch across from me.
“I have a home,” I replied with my eyes closed.
After spending the majority of my morning looking for a safe place to stash my drugs and money, then hitting the block to serve a few of my licks, a nigga was tired as fuck.
“Not with that underaged bitch. I mean, here with your son and me.” Tanya rolled her eyes.
“Aye, watch your mouth when you talking about my shorty.” I shot her a stern look.
“Are you defending this bitch, Kenny? We have history. We’ve been together for years. I held you down, gave you your first child, and you put a young girl who can’t even wipe her ass the right way over me? Are you fucking serious right now?” Tanya spoke, blinking back her tears.
“I’m good on you, bitch. You foul as fuck. You think I ain’t know how you was still fucking with that nigga while you sucked my dick dry every night? That nigga’s family must have had that baby tested, then made that square ass joker kicked you to the side when they realized the baby wasn’t his. You think you this smart ass hood bitch, when in reality, you dumb as fuck. A real bitch would have drained his bank account dry. Your bird brain ass got a few stacks from him when his family is worth millions. You couldn’t even finesse that nigga right, you dummy!” I spat, cutting her with my words before pouring salt on her wounds.
I was good with Hennessey. She was young, gullible, easy to manipulate. She didn’t have the fat ass like Tanya, the big ol’ ghetto booty I craved, yet she was bad as fuck without all the extras. Henny was the type of chick who had the ability to bring a nigga to his knees with just her smile. The moment I was done tearing her ass down, I was going to build her back up to the bad bitch she needed to be.
“Really, nigga? After all I’ve done, this is how you do me?” She sniffled.
I hated when bitches were with all the theatrics, crying and begging for a nigga to own up to his wrongdoings. If we kept doing the same shit, nine times out of ten, we never gave a fuck. In my opinion, a broad who kept putting herself in the same position to get hurt after a nigga showed his true colors deserved that that shit.
“I ain’t tell you to do shit for me. I was going to get back on my pivot whether you helped me or not,” I shot at her.
“Do she even know we have a son together?”
“Nah, that ain’t none of her business. My son was conceived before I got with her.”
“So, you just hide my baby like he’s some secret baby?”
“Nah, next time I come to see my son, I’m picking him up. I ain’t about to do this shit with you every time I come to see him.” Standing to my feet, I walked back in the room to lay KJ down.
Reaching in my pocket, I pulled out a knot off money. Peeling off a few hundreds, I tossed them on the coffee table.
“Don’t call me unless my son needs something. When I’m ready to pick him up, I’ll come through.” Licking my lips, I shook my head at Tanya as she held her head down in her hands and cried. If she played her cards right, when her six weeks were up, I would bless her ass with some dick, but that was all she was able to get out of me.
I’ve always been fond of Tanya, and I loved how we got money together. I had some type of respect for her now that she was the mother of my son, but that wasn’t enough to keep me tied down to her ass. Walking past her, I hopped in my ride and headed to my shorty’s school.
“I know I ain’t the best nigga in the world, but on everything, I’m trying,” I whispered in Henny’s ear as I stood behind her in the checkout line in the Guess store.
Hennessy had me in the mall maxing the fuck out, but she deserved that shit. Shorty did everything a nigga told her to do plus more. With Hennessy, a nigga didn’t have to check in. I came and went as I pleased, no questions asked. I was the man of their household, since I paid the bills, took care of all Hennessy’s needs, and controlled Aiko’s high.
“I hear you,” she softly replied.
Taking her in from the back, I couldn’t help but admire how fat her ass looked in the tight dress she wore. Wrapping my hands around her waist, I stood behind her, inching forward with her as the line moved.
“You got everything you wanted
?” Retrieving the receipt from the cashier, I placed it in the bag before we walked out of the store hand in hand.
“Yes, thank you.”
“Thank you, what?”
“Thank you, daddy.” She smiled up at me.
“That’s more like it.” Bending my head low, I kissed Hennessy on the lips before walking over to Footlocker. Picking up the Jays I came to cop from the display rack, I placed them on the counter.
“My boy, let me get these in a size eleven in men and a six in boys,” I spoke to the cashier before taking a seat on the bench then pulling Hennessy down on my lap.
“I mean, somebody blowing you up. You might as well answer it.” Hennessy frowned.
From the moment I picked her up from school, Tanya had been blowing up my phone with stupid shit.
“Nah, ma, today is all about you,” I assured her with another kiss to the lips.
“Damn, Kenny, so you can’t answer my calls? You could have told me you had a bitch,” a voice from behind us spoke up, causing us to turn around at the same time.
“Man.” Brushing my hair with the palm of my hand, I looked up at Lena.
Lena was the plug’s cousin. Dropping dick in her secured my ability to cop weight from him.
“Wassup, Lena?” I nodded at her.
“Wassup? Are you for real right now, Kenny?” she barked.
“Aye, man, don’t be in these people’s store drawing attention this way,” I snapped.
“Who is this bitch, Kenny?”
“I’m not going to be too many bitches.” Hennessy attempted to stand, but I held her down on my lap.
“Bitch, you’ll be whatever the fuck I call you, bitch!” Lena went in.
“Here are the shoes,” the Footlocker employee nervously said before placing both boxes next to me.
“We’ll take them. You can ring them up,” I replied to him.
“You buying this hoe shoes, too?” Lena spat, knocking the boxes out of the employee’s hands.
Before I could react, Hennessy leaped out of my embrace and punched Lena. I stood off to the side, proud of my bitch, while she tagged the fuck out of Lena. Toe to toe, Lena was no match for Hennessy as she stood in the paint, viciously throwing blows.
“You better not break it up,” I warned the employee. “Pick up the shoes and go ring them motherfuckers up!”
Jumping to the bass in my voice, he scurried to the register and did as he was told.
“Alright, break this shit up.” Pulling Lena by what was left of her weave, I pried them apart.
“Are you for real, Kenny?” Lena looked up with tears in her eyes.
“What the fuck you expected me to do? You knew what it was, man.” I shrugged her off.
“Alright, we gon’ see who gets the last laugh when my cousin stops fucking with you,” she spat.
“You threating my livelihood?” I gritted, snatching Lena up by the few strands of hair that clung to her scalp.
“Let me go, Kenny!” she cried out in pain.
“Fuck with me if you want to, bitch. See if I don’t bury your hoe ass. Bap pussy ass bitch!” I fumed and tossed her ass into the display of shoes.
Grabbing Hennessy, I paid for the shoes before sliding a hundred dollar bill to the employee.
“You ain’t see shit.” I nodded before leaving the store.
“What a birthday,” Hennessy sarcastically spoke up while rolling her eyes.
“My bad, man, that hoe still trying to hold on to some old shit we had in the past.” Walking closely behind Hennessy, I attempted to wrap my arms around her waist.
“Yeah, okay.” She shrugged me off before putting space between us.
“I know you not about to let some broad fuck up your day.”
Nah, I’m just tired,” she lied. I could see the look of defeat in Henny’s eyes.
“Yeah, alright. Imma drop you off. I got some shit to handle anyway.” Pulling out my phone, I decided to check in on My Eater, a thick lil broad who knew how to gobble up the dick. If Henny wanted to sit around huffing and pouting on her birthday, she could do that shit on her own time. A nigga ain’t have the time to coddle her ass.
“ A nother perfect score. In fact, you’re the only student with a perfect score. Great job, Miami,” my Spanish teacher spoke in her thick accent while placing my test paper down on my desk.
“Hennessy, a C coming from someone who took my class last year, is unacceptable.” She disappointedly shook her head as she placed the test paper on Hennessy’s desk before walking down the row.
Ms. Mc- whatever the fuck her name is, was always trying to put somebody on blast. I couldn’t stand her bitch ass. I couldn’t stand half the motherfuckers in this class; I was just there to avoid being sent back to juvie. My caseworker made it clear that if I didn’t lay low until I aged out of the system, I would spend the rest of my teenage years in a juvenile detention center.
“Be more like Miami. He’s the only student in my class with a perfect grade.” Her bitch ass spoke up, pointing me out again.
I hated when the spotlight was on me. Watching the other students turn in their seats to look over at me made my blood boil. When the white girl, Sally, or whatever white ass name she had tapped the back of my chair, I wanted to spaz out on her.
“Wassup, man?” I turned around to face her.
“I have to pass this class, or my parents will freak out. You think you can tutor me after school?” she asked in a soft voice.
“Nah, I’m good.” Looking down at her paper, I noticed her name was Suzy.
“Excuse me?” Suzy’s eyes widened in shock.
“I’m not trying to be accused of no shit I ain’t do. You already know how that shit goes,” I replied before turning back around.
I had nothing against white people; I just wasn’t green to the shit that went down between innocent black men and the privileged.
I could feel Hennessy’s eyes burning a hole through the side of my face as she sat next to me, pretending to look over the questions she got wrong. I wasn’t going to front, shorty was bad, an exotic type of bad. From her diamond shaped face, low eyes, and plump lips, I could tell shorty was mixed. She hung with a group of hoes, yet I didn’t get hoe vibes from her. Reaching for my test paper, I placed it on her desk.
“Ma, I peep you all in my grill. Focus on that instead.” I smirked and glanced down at my paper.
Standing to my feet at the precise moment the bell rang, I was the first person out the door.
“How was school?” Ms. Kim, my foster mother, asked me the moment I walked through the door.
“Straight,” I replied while standing by the door.
I was done with our conversation the moment she initiated it, but a nigga wasn’t rude enough to walk off until she was done running her mouth.
“Good. The food is ready. You trying to eat right now?” she asked while she shuffled through the pots.
Ms. Kim wasn’t a bad lady. In fact, she was the only one of my many foster parents who gave a fuck about her foster kids. She made sure we had food to eat, clean clothes to wear, and cable to entertain us.
“Alright.” Taking a seat at the table, I dropped my Jansport book bag on the ground and waited for her to place the plate of food in front of me.
“Thank you,” I mumbled, gazing down at the roast with carrots and potatoes over a bed of white rice with a side of baked macaroni and cheese.
“Eat up, baby.” She smiled while placing a cup of grape Kool-Aid in front of me.
In a way, Ms. Kim reminded me of my ma dukes. Like her, Ms. Kim was a mother who loved catering to her children. Until my twelfth birthday, I had nothing but good memories of my family.
Growing up, my childhood was the best. I lived in a two-parent household with my baby sister. For the most part, I’ve always remembered my parents being happy. My mother, who was a stay at home mom, made sure the home front was taken care of, while my father worked as a school bus driver and a factory manager. Me and my baby sister, H
arlem, had everything out hearts desired. We were happy until a shift in our household took place.
On my twelfth birthday, I remember my father coming home drunk and angry. I could vividly hear my father’s voice bounce off the walls as he yelled at my mother, picking at the little shit she wasn’t doing right. Harlem was so scared that night that she ended up creeping in my room and climbing in bed with me.
An hour later, the yelling stopped, the front door slammed, and a few moments later, my mother came in the room to check on us. I could see the tears in her eyes. As I reached in to wipe them away, she assured me that everything was okay. After making sure we were tucked in, she told us she loved us, kissed us goodnight, then, later on, died while she was in the tub.
When my father returned home, he slit her throat from ear to ear while she took her nightly bath. He then walked into my room, stood over my bed, shot Harlem, then shot me. With my hand clutching my chest, I could feel my life slipping away from me before I heard a final gunshot. The shot that ended my father’s life.
Being the only one to survive that shit left me traumatized. The day I lost my family and was thrust into the system was the day my heart grew cold. I didn’t give a fuck about anyone or anything. Hell, I didn’t give a fuck about my damn self. I kept my head low and did what I felt I needed to do to survive.
“You don’t like the food?” Ms. Kim asked, snapping me out of my thoughts.
“It was straight,” I uttered, looking down at my half-eaten plate of food.
“You must have had a big lunch.” She smiled as she removed the plate of food from in front of me.
“Yeah, that’s what it was.” I shrugged.
“Alright, baby. Go do your homework. I know you got some.”
“Yeah, okay.” Picking my bookbag off the ground, I placed it in the hallway closet before entering the small, box-sized room that I shared with the other boys who Ms. Kim fostered.
Since there were four boys in one small room, Ms. Kim had managed to fit two sets of bunk beds inside, leaving us no room to maneuver around. Digging through the sturdy trash bag that housed my clean clothes, I pulled out a pair of boxers and shorts before heading to the bathroom to take a shower.
