Section 8

by K'wan

  “We can fix that,” Happy told her.

  Boots placed her hand on his thigh. She noticed him harden in his jeans. “Happy, ya mind is always in the gutter. I ain’t fucking wit’ you.”

  “What, I was just trying to offer you a drink,” Happy lied.

  “I’ll take the drink for now. Anything after that is negotiable.”

  Happy couldn’t repress the smile forming on his face. “That’s what I need to hear.”

  “Party like a rock star!” Tracy sang along with the song. From the way she was spilling her drink left and right, you could tell she was twisted. “Yo, tell ya boy to get his weight up, he ain’t ready to fuck with no grown bitch on this drinking shit,” she clowned Wise, whose most recent cup looked almost untouched. When her original drinking partner’s money ran short, she relieved Boots of Wise’s attention.

  “Yo, shorty is on her lush life shit for real,” Wise told his people. He gave Happy the jump-off look and inquired about Boots. Happy nodded like they were on the same page, but he was secretly wondering if him banging Boots would ruin things between him and Tionna. She was high siding and he needed to get his rocks off with one broad or another.

  “Tracy can throw them back with the rest of them,” Boots said proudly.

  “Muthafucking right,” Tracy slurred. She plopped onto the stool next to Boots and tried to find something to focus on to keep her head from spinning. When her eyes went back to the makeshift VIP section, they spotted a familiar emblem. “Check this shit.” She tapped Boots’s leg. “How them bitches get back there?”

  “The better question should be why the fuck they didn’t invite us,” Boots said. She had completely forgotten about Happy when she saw how much fun Tionna and Gucci were having. “We’re over here partying with these extra-medium niggaz and while they back there on they Ron Brownz shit, I like to pop bottles, too.”

  “I say we go and see about that,” Tracy said.

  “How we gonna slip away from these niggaz?” Boots wanted to know.

  “Leave that to me.” Tracy got up off the stool. She took a step in Wise’s direction and faked left like she was going to faint. “Damn, a bitch is tipsy as hell,” she said, thickening her slur.

  Boots caught on quick. “Girl, I told you about throwing that shit back like that. Let me take you outside to get some air.”

  “Y’all want us to come?” Happy asked.

  “Nah, I got her,” Boots said almost too quickly. “She just needs some air.”

  “Don’t take too long, baby; we were having an interesting conversation,” Happy said.

  “I ain’t gonna be long, Hap.” Boots winked at him and led Tracy shambling through the crowd. When they had gotten far enough for Happy to lose sight of them, the girls got low and banked a hard left in the direction of the Big Dawg party.

  “Why do you keep staring at me like that?” Gucci asked Animal.

  Animal took his shades off and examined them as if they were defective, before sliding them back over his eyes. “And what makes you think I’m looking at you?”

  “Because I can feel the heat coming off ya ass,” she joked.

  “You got jokes, Gucci-Gucci, shorty rocked a dobie, had my shades on but she saw right through me,” he sang.

  “Oh, so you’re a rapper?”

  “Nah, I ain’t no rapper, I’m a street nigga,” he said honestly.

  “So then what the hell are you doing with Don B.? Everybody knows he doesn’t hang with goons in public.”

  “I didn’t say I was a goon, I said I was a street nigga,” he corrected her.

  “I didn’t know that there was a difference.”

  “Baby girl,” he leaned forward so she could hear him without shouting, “let me school you on a little bit of Animal philosophy. See, a goon is a beast, somebody who when you see them coming you go the other way because you know it’s about to be some shit. Now, niggaz know me on the streets for having beastly qualities, but the beast doesn’t define my character. I call myself a street nigga because I’m a child of the streets. She birthed me, raised me, and fed me. I am for her as she is for me.” When he finished his explanation, he noticed she was giving him a funny look. “Now you’re the one staring.”

  “You got that one,” she said, laughing it off. “Look, don’t take this the wrong way . . .”

  “Then don’t say it.”

  “Nah, it’s nothing bad, it’s just that you’re different.”

  “God made us all different.”

  “Not like that.” She tried to find the right words. “What I mean is, I know you’re a street dude—hell, you gotta be with a name like Animal—but you don’t talk or act like the rest of these dudes.” She motioned toward a guy who was slapping some girl on the ass like they were at a strip club.

  Animal studied the guy for a minute before responding. “Some niggaz,” he nodded at the spectacle, “gotta show out to make theirselves feel like somebody. Me,” he pounded his chest, causing his chain to rattle, “I know I’m somebody.”

  Gucci took the medallion delicately in her hand and admired the detail in it. It brought back memories of her and Tionna hurrying to finish their dinner so they could watch the Muppet show. “And who are you?”

  He stared at her like she was speaking a foreign language that he was trying to decipher. “I’m the Animal,” he said, showing off his gold teeth.

  “Man, that’s the first time I seen you smile all night,” Don B. said, disrupting the moment. He had a bottle in one hand and Tionna in the other. She was so high that her eyes were damn near closed.

  “Y’all over here cheesing like two schoolkids,” Tionna said. Gucci shot her a dirty look.

  “Ain’t about nothing, I’m just over here picking your home-girl’s brain,” Animal said, as if he didn’t feel the connection, too.

  “Yo, Gucci, what up?” Tracy waved from the other side of the rope, trying to get her friend’s attention. “Tionna!”

  “Do you see these bitches?” Gucci whispered to Tionna.

  “Act like you don’t see them,” Tionna said, trying to not to make eye contact with the girls. They were making so much of a ruckus that security was looking at them funny.

  “Y’all know them chicks?” Don B. asked.

  Gucci looked at Tionna, who just turned her head. “Yeah, we came with them,” Gucci admitted. They were ghetto as hell, but they were still her girls.

  “Let ’em through,” Don B. instructed his security. The two girls almost caused a stampede trying to get to the other side of the rope.

  “Well, well, this is where y’all disappeared to. Y’all wasn’t gonna invite us to the party?” Boots said slyly.

  “Y’all had ya hands full,” Gucci said, sipping from her glass. “Whatever happened to Mutt and Jeff anyhow?”

  “Please, we left them right where we found them. They were lightweights anyway,” Tracy said.

  “So, Tionna, are you gonna introduce me to your friend?” Boots asked sarcastically.

  Tionna slit her eyes at Boots to let her know that she hadn’t changed that much. “Well, the last time I checked, I saw a television in your house, so I’m sure you know who he is, and furthermore he ain’t my friend to introduce; I’m just sitting here having a conversation.”

  “T, you know I was just playing, so stop acting like that.” Boots gave her a fake laugh. “How you doing, Don? I’m Boots and this is my girl Tracy.”

  “Charmed.” Don B. gave her hand a light shake.

  “I know that ain’t Tracy Stewart.” Remo looked closer.

  “We know each other?” Tracy made a stink face. The alcohol had her nearly seeing double.

  “Come on, stop acting like that. It’s Kareem.” He spread his arms and smiled. When she saw that missing tooth, a light of recognition went off in her head.

  “Oh shit. What up, Reem?” She hugged him. “Nigga, when you came home?”

  “I’ve been home for a minute, sis. I’m working for my nephew doing security.”
He pointed to Don B.

  “Blow-up kid.” Tracy nodded in approval.

  “Damn, is there anybody your ass don’t know, unc?” Don B. teased Remo.

  “Man, me and shorty go back to Kurtis Blow.”

  “Literally, the eighties was a muthafucka,” Tracy added, thinking back to some of the wild coke parties she’d attended in her day. “What’s that y’all sipping on?” She eyed the variety of bottles on the tables.

  “Help yaselves, ladies,” Don B. invited them. Tracy picked up a bottle of vodka and poured herself a healthy drink. Boots opted for a Corona, which she brought with her when she squeezed in next to Tionna and Don B.

  “You got an opener?” Boots leaned across Gucci to speak to Don B. She made sure that he got a healthy view of her cleavage in the process.

  “If you don’t get them big-ass jugs off me.” Tionna pushed her away.

  “Sorry, T, you know these shits be all over the place.” Boots smiled innocently.

  “Tell me about it,” Gucci mumbled.

  “And who is this with all the pretty hair?” Boots reached to touch Animal’s hair, but he pulled back.

  “No disrespect, shorty, but I don’t really take to being touched uninvited.” He leaned closer to Gucci. When their hands touched, a spark passed between them.

  Boots made a face that was somewhere between surprise and scorn. “My bad, Gucci; I didn’t know you was claiming shorty.”

  “Mmm, that little muthafucka is too pretty,” Tracy said jokingly. Animal squirmed under her predatory gaze, but he kept his cool. He was used to being the one putting people under pressure, but the two chicks made him feel like he was a mouse trapped between two cats.

  “It’s getting too crowded over here for me. I’m gonna hit the bar right quick.” Animal got up from the sofa.

  “Hold on, I’ll come with you.” Gucci got up.

  “Hold on, handsome. With all this liquor y’all got on the table, what you going to the bar for?” Boots called after him.

  Animal stopped short and fixed his eyes on her. “Shorty, ain’t nothing at this table that I want. You coming?” He extended his hand to Gucci, which she readily took. Before allowing Animal to lead her away, she gave Boots one last glare. Though Boots couldn’t see Gucci’s eyes, she knew from the set of her face that she was tight.

  “See, that’s why I don’t be fucking wit’ these project bitches—they ain’t got no class. Let that have been my cake and a bitch played me to the left, I would’ve zoned out on her monkey ass,” Ron-Ron continued his rant.

  “Yo, stop being a troublemaker, B, it ain’t Hap’s fault. If I was a bitch, I’d chose a megastar rapper over him, too.” Wise burst out laughing.

  “So this shit is funny to you, huh?” Happy turned his murderous glare on Wise. For the past half hour Happy had sat and watched Don B. paw over Tionna and feed her drinks, while she lapped it all up. He could recall a time when he used to feed her drinks, but it seemed as if she had a new sponsor. Happy was an explosion waiting to happen and didn’t much care who had lit the fuse.

  “Chill, Hap. It’s about twenty more broads in here, so you ain’t gotta stunt no one. Fuck that bitch; let niggaz toss her up.” Lou was trying to defuse the situation, but he had unknowingly added fuel to the fire.

  In Happy’s mind, he saw Don B. and his minions with Tionna in some fancy hotel treating her like a dime-store whore, and it sent him over the edge. “Fuck that.” Happy slid off the bar stool. “These bitch-ass rap niggaz is gonna stop acting like they don’t know who the real gangsters are.” He started off in the direction of the Big Dawg party.

  Lou uselessly tried to talk him out of it, Ron-Ron was at his side, and Wise just couldn’t stop laughing.

  “I swear, that broad could fuck up a wet dream.” Gucci hunkered over the bar angrily.

  “Don’t trip off that. We all got peoples who act up a little bit from time to time.” Animal placed a vodka and palm in front of her. He could tell that she was feeling in a way, because she didn’t even ask what it was before she attacked it.

  “This shit is a regular thing with Boots. The only reason she was even flirting with you is because she knew I liked you.”

  “Oh, you like me, huh?” He picked up on the slip.

  “Don’t flatter yourself. I mean you’re good peoples,” she lied.

  “And how would you know? I could be the boogeyman in disguise.”

  She frowned. “Boy, knock it off. You look too innocent to be a monster.”

  “So I’ve been told,” Animal said, remembering how many others had made the same mistake about him. “Don’t let them gals ruin the rest of your evening, Ms. Gucci; one monkey don’t stop no show. Besides, I don’t go for ghetto broads.”

  “Excuse you, I’m from Forty-first and Eighth, nigga, so watch that.” Gucci snaked her neck.

  “Easy, ma, you misunderstand me. Gucci, you’re hood, but you ain’t ghetto; you got swag about you that a lot of these chicks lack.”

  “Should I take that as a compliment?”

  He shrugged. “Take it how you want it, I’m just clarifying myself. Why are you so defensive, Gucci?”

  “You bugging.” She waved him off.

  “Nah, I don’t think I am. Everything I say, you try to find a flaw or some hidden message in it, when all I’m trying to do is compliment your style. What’s the matter, ain’t you used to nobody complimenting you?”

  She blushed at the fact that either she was so transparent or he was so in tune with her. “My mother always taught me to be leery of men with silver tongues: nine times outta ten they want more than what they’re saying.”

  “Your mother was right to warn you against men, but I ain’t a man, I’m an animal, and I don’t want any more from you than what you’re willing to give.”

  “Who says I’m gonna give you anything?” Gucci frowned.

  “And who says I’m gonna ask you for anything?” he shot back. This turned her frown around a bit.

  “Animal, do you always talk in circles?”

  “Only when I’m walking in them.” He walked around her slowly, not close enough to touch her, but enough that she could feel the heat radiating from his body. Between the pills and the heady scent of her, he felt like his skin was on fire.

  “You’re weird.”

  Animal stopped his circling. “Nah, just misunderstood.” She opened her mouth to say something, but her eyes darted just over Animal’s shoulder. Instinctively he whirled around, ready to draw his hammer at the first sign of danger. He was a little puzzled when he saw a kid bulldozing his way through the crowd, but he wasn’t coming in their direction.

  “Here this nigga go with this dumb shit.” Gucci sucked her teeth.

  “That your man or something?” Animal asked, starting to feel different about Gucci.

  “Lord, no, that ain’t my headache.” Gucci laughed. She watched in amusement as Happy tried to puff his chest out and exchanged words with Tionna. It was all funny until Don B. reached into his pouch and the shit hit the fan.

  “That bitch always gotta be the center of attention,” Boots said once Gucci was out of earshot.

  “And you always feel the need to play yourself,” Tionna said, making it clear that she wasn’t going to have anyone talking about her friend.

  “I forgot y’all were the dynamic duo.” Boots sucked her teeth.

  “Hate is a color that doesn’t suit you well, ma,” Tionna shot back.

  “Y’all bitches knock it off; in here arguing over a piece of dick like you don’t know better,” Tracy interjected.

  “True story, ma, it’s more than enough of us to go around,” the kid who had approached Gucci and Tionna on behalf of Don B. added, draping his arm around Tracy.

  “Little nigga, you better stay in a child’s place,” Remo warned him.

  “My bad.” The kid backed up.

  “I should’ve known that coming out with y’all heifers was gonna go to the left,” Tionna said, sipping from her glas
s.

  Tracy fixed her eyes on something across the room. “Don’t look now, but it’s about to get way more interesting.”

  Tionna looked up to see what the drunk girl was babbling about and spotted Happy coming in their direction, and from the look on his face she could tell he was pissed.

  Devil intercepted Happy before he reached the rope, but Happy acted as if he didn’t even notice him. “Can I talk to you for a second,” Happy addressed Tionna.

  “Fam, ain’t nobody over here for you. Keep it moving,” Devil told him.

  “That’s how it is, T?” Happy asked her, still ignoring Devil.

  “Hap, I’m kinda in the middle of something.” She raised her glass. “I’ll call you.”

  “So you just take my money, drink my drink, fuck me, then act like you don’t know a nigga when you get around your new friends?” Happy was breathing heavy now and it sounded like he had to concentrate to compose his words.

  “Hold on, B, ya mouth is wild reckless.” Don B. was on his feet. Several more men surged behind him. “Tionna,” he looked down at her, “I thought you said ya man was locked up. This nigga looks free as a bird to me.” He thumbed at Happy.

  “This is not my man. Happy, why are you over here trying to clown?” Tionna was now standing, too. With the argument forgotten in the face of a potential threat, Boots and Tracy were at her side.

  “Bitch, you over here putting on a show and you’re asking me about clowning?” Happy barked.

  “A’ight, playboy. You outta order, so now you gotta bounce,” Don B. told him.

  “Back up wit’ all that shit; you ain’t the only nigga in the hood with a few dollars, so don’t be talking to me like I’m the help. This ain’t got nothing to do with you,” Happy said, snarling at Don B.

  Never being one to be outdone, Don B. went the extra mile. “Check it.” He pulled a huge bankroll from the pouch fastened around his waist and counted off a few bills. “Get yaself a bottle, on me, then go play in traffic, you fucking clown.” Don B. tossed the bills in Happy’s face. The roar of laughter from everyone who saw it was so loud that Happy couldn’t even hear himself think. He knew he had no wins against the entourage, but the smirk Tionna was trying to hide was enough to have him throw logic out the window. Happy’s hand had just made it to his pocket when Remo caught him in a reverse choke hold.