Bad Apple - the Baddest Chick

by Nisa Santiago

  Apple was petite and curvy. Mesha was too, but she had thicker hips and more butt for the men to stare at. Both girls were able to stir up a man’s heart without even a thought. The two couldn’t even eat their food in peace without several men trying to approach them for conversation and a minute of their time. But the two girls, used to being hit on and approached, sometimes with good manners or just plain rudely, turned the eager men down.

  “Ill . . . not,” Mesha commented about one of the guys that tried to come on to her. He was tall and shapeless, with a scruffy beard, and had hopes of getting her number.

  “Stop being picky,” Apple said with a smile.

  “You fuck him then.”

  Apple chuckled. “Never that.”

  “A’ight then. Besides, when was the last time you got some dick? Or are you still tryin’ to save it for Cross?”

  “I’m good. You know I get mines,” Apple replied.

  “And when was that? The last nigga I know you fucked was Terrance. What? His ten-year sentence got you dried up now?”

  Apple sucked her teeth and remembered Terrance as being only a fling, a substitute until the real thing came along.

  “Then before him, Jason. Oh, and I can’t forget Ramee. Yeah, he fucked you and your sister.”

  “And?”

  “I’m just sayin’, girl . . . I ain’t tryin’ to get at you, but you need to stop waiting for Cross, and get booed up soon. You ain’t gettin’ any younger. You done passed up on some fine niggas that wanted to holla at you. Besides, when have you ever known Cross to wife up some chick? Shit, that nigga’s too busy treatin’ his dick like it’s some fuckin’ passport, traveling up in all them hoes, like he JetBlue or somethin.”

  Apple sighed.

  “I’m just sayin’, do you and stop waitin’ around daydreaming about this dude.”

  Apple heard her out, but she was still determined to pursue Cross. He was the one who made her heart skip beats and her panties wet like she had dipped them in a river.

  The two finished up their meal and left the chain food spot, only to be approached by two young thugs waiting by the exit.

  “Yo, ma, let me holla at you for a minute,” one of the young thugs called out.

  “Yo, shawty, let me holla at you,” the second said, chasing after Apple.

  The ladies laughed and replied in unison, “We good.”

  “I’m sayin, ma, y’all lookin’ good as shit. What’s ya name?”

  Mesha and Apple continued smiling while walking away. They didn’t even bother looking back.

  “Yo, ma, why y’all actin’ like that? I’m sayin’, what’s good wit’ y’all?”

  When they were far enough away, they heard one of the thugs yell out, “Yo, fuck y’all stuck-up bitches then! Wit’ ya stank pussies!”

  Mesha turned, flipped him the middle finger, and shouted, “Fuck you too!”

  They laughed it off and headed for Mesha’s apartment.

  When the girls entered the lobby, they bumped into Supreme, who was exiting the building. Apple looked at Supreme indifferently as she walked beside Mesha.

  Supreme smirked. “I hope you didn’t forget about me, Apple,” he said, as he kept it moving.

  Confused, Mesha looked at Apple. “What’s he talkin’ about, Apple?”

  “He’s a creep.”

  “I don’t like him. You ain’t fuckin’ wit’ him, right, Apple? I mean, you ain’t borrowed money from him or nothin’?” Mesha asked with concern.

  “No, Mesha,” Apple lied. “You know that nigga’s a pervert.”

  “Yeah, he is.”

  The girls made it up to Mesha’s apartment, where she lived with her seventy-year-old grandmother. They rushed into her room and began trying on the clothes they had bought from Jay-Ray. They modeled in front of Mesha’s easel floor mirror while listening to Hot 97.

  Apple gazed at herself in the mirror, wearing one of the skirts. As she turned around in the outfit, she looked out the bedroom window and noticed Supreme and Guy Tony getting into a black Escalade. She exhaled noisily, thinking about her debt to him. She knew there was no way she was going to pay back Supreme’s money unless she got with Cross.

  Apple didn’t have a job or a hustle like Kola. Suddenly, the happiness she once displayed earlier quickly turned into a troubling frown. She thought about she and Kola being twins, both having natural beauty like Queen Nefertiti, yet she was a broke bitch, and Kola was seeing crazy dough, being a hustla. She hated to be compared to her sister, but the truth was, some days she wished she was her sister.

  As Apple watched the Escalade pull off, she thought about the wealth Supreme had and wondered why he would bitch over a few hundred dollars when he had probably thousands to his name. She shrugged off her debt. She knew she was probably a small fry, compared to niggas that owed him much more, so she wasn’t going to stress herself.

  Mesha noticed the change in Apple’s mood. “Are you OK?”

  Apple turned with a forged smile and replied, “Yeah, I’m good. I was just thinking about how we gonna do it up at the concert. Maybe I might snatch me up a baller.”

  “Girl, wit’ that skirt and your fuckin’ legs, you might snatch you up a rapper, or maybe an athlete, to sweep you off your feet.”

  The girls laughed and continued trying on different clothing in the bedroom. Apple twirled herself around in the mirror, loving how her backside looked in the skirt. She smiled, knowing she looked good.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  It was a balmy Sunday afternoon, and Apple was in her room getting ready for the concert. She had the bedroom to herself. Nichols was in the living room watching cable, her mother was out in the streets, and Kola was in the third bedroom, with the door shut. Apple was excited about this evening. She had her outfit displayed on the bed, and the stereo was playing her favorite song by Nicki Minaj. She was in the mirror doing her hair and singing to “Your Love.”

  Apple sang the lyrics with feeling, thinking about Cross. She was glowing in the mirror, thinking about love.

  She, Ayesha, and Mesha had planned to take a cab to Penn Station and get on the New Jersey Transit to Jersey. Since the concert was starting at six o’clock, they had less than three hours to arrive before the first performance, and Apple didn’t want to be late.

  Apple swayed, bobbed to the tune, and continued singing. When the song ended, she repeated the track from the beginning, knowing she could listen to it all day while thinking about Cross.

  After touching up her hair, she realized she was out of eyeliner. She sucked her teeth, knowing she had to ask Kola. Wanting to look good, she swallowed her pride, walked over to Kola’s room, and knocked hard on the door.

  “What?” Kola shouted.

  “It’s Apple. Why you got the door locked?”

  “’Cause I’m busy!” Kola yelled.

  “I need to borrow your eyeliner. Open the damn door!” Apple shouted back.

  “Apple, I’m fuckin’ busy!”

  “Well, I’ma keep on knocking until you ain’t busy,” she snapped back.

  Kola snatched open the bedroom door and glared at Apple. “You and Nichols already be borrowing my shit wit’out fuckin’ asking.”

  “I don’t touch your shit, Kola. That’s Nichols.”

  Looking past her twin, Apple noticed Kola had a guy in the room. Kola was in her usual tight white shorts, which were unfastened, and her nipples showed through a tight T-shirt.

  “Why you in my fuckin’ business, Apple? Damn!” Kola closed the door to her room a little.

  “I don’t give a fuck who you fuckin’. I just wanna borrow your eyeliner.”

  “What? So you can look like a hooker for Summer Jam and hope that maybe you’ll run into your baby, Cross?” Kola teased.

  Apple sighed. “Look, you gonna let me use it or not? I can buy my own; I just ain’t got time to run to the store.”

  Kola sucked her teeth. “Whatever. Hold on.” She closed the door on Apple and went to get the eyeliner.


  Apple stood in the narrow hallway of their apartment, hands on her hip and an annoyed look across her face. She thought Kola had some nerve fucking a guy in their mother’s place.

  Kola’s door flew open, and she tossed Apple the eyeliner that she needed.

  “Thank you,” Apple said.

  “Don’t lose my shit.”

  Apple retreated to the bedroom to finish dressing. She wasn’t going to let Kola’s attitude ruin the night she had planned with her girls. Apple looked at the time. It was already a quarter to four, and she wasn’t dressed yet. She quickly donned her outfit and put on the makeup needed to make her look older than she really was. She checked herself in the mirror and loved what she saw. She’d managed to make herself look five years older, and with the body she walked around with, she knew dudes would be sweating her and her girls.

  At a quarter past four, the apartment buzzer sounded. Apple ran to answer the door with her shoes in hand. “I got it!” she yelled out. She swung open the apartment door and greeted Mesha and Ayesha.

  Mesha looked at Apple with a frown and barked, “You ain’t finished dressin’ yet?”

  “I’m done, Mesha. Damn. I just gotta get my shit.”

  “Hurry up, girl. You know I ain’t tryin’ to be late,” Mesha said.

  Apple ran back into her bedroom, while Mesha and Ayesha walked into the apartment, saying hello to Nichols, who was on the couch watching MTV.

  Nichols turned around and noticed the girls’ attire. “Damn! Y’all is lookin’ right.”

  Mesha smiled. “You know it.”

  “I’m goin’ next year wit’ y’all,” Nichols said with an eager smile.

  “I hear that,” Ayesha said.

  Mesha had on a pair of tight, drop-waist, double-button Seven jeans that highlighted every curve, a pair of white open-toe Fendi heels, and a liquid-gold mesh halter top that draped over her body and accented her breasts.

  Ayesha wore a belted Lurex herringbone DKNY mini-skirt that exposed her thick legs and phat ass, with a pair of wraparound heels that made her look like an Amazon, and a tight sexy top that showed the outline of her nipples. Both women looked like divas.

  They talked to Nichols while waiting for Apple, and the three focused on MTV’s The Real World, admiring some of the cuties on the show.

  Ten minutes later, Apple stepped out of her bedroom looking fabulous in her Marc Jacobs drop-waist skirt, her thick legs looking like they were stretching to the heavens in her favorite six-inch red-and-white stilettos, and wearing a white one-shoulder top that laced up the back and made her tits look immaculate. And her long, sensuous hair fell gracefully down to her shoulders, making her look like one of the cover models for a men’s magazine.

  “Chick, you tryin’ to outdo us,” Mesha joked.

  Apple chuckled and replied, “Look at y’all bitches . . . fuckin’ divas and shit.”Mesha and Ayesha laughed.

  “Damn, Apple, you lookin’ like you thirty and shit,” Nichols commented.

  “I do, right?” Apple said with an exciting smile. She clutched her small knockoff Louis Vuitton bag and was ready to paint the city red. She hugged and kissed her sister good-bye then strutted out the doorway with her friends.

  The girls made it down to the lobby and rushed to get a cab, since they were running late. It was a change of plan. The girls didn’t want to be one minute late for the concert. They strutted to the cabstand to catcalls, pick-up lines, and compliments from block to block, but they walked close together and ignored the attention.

  They reached the cabstand on the busy Harlem street and asked the driver how much it would cost them for a ride to Giants Stadium.

  “Eighty-five dollars,” the driver informed them.

  “Damn! Why you lying?” Mesha barked.

  “It’s eighty-five dollars. That’s gas, tolls, and bridges,” the driver said.

  It was already a quarter to five, and the girls didn’t want to be late for the opening act.

  Mesha sucked her teeth and looked at her girls. “Yo, what y’all wanna do? I mean, it’s already almost five, and to keep it real, I look too fuckin’ cute to be gettin’ on a train or bus and be worrying about these thirsty-ass niggas dirtying me up.”

  “I’m sayin’, that fare is a little too steep, Mesha,” Apple let it be known.

  “Apple, look at us. I’m sayin’, how much you got to put up?” Mesha asked.

  “I got twenty-five,” Ayesha chimed.

  “A’ight, I got forty then.”

  Both girls looked at Apple to fill in the gap.

  Mesha said, “Apple, all you gotta do is put up twenty, and we good.”

  After spending money on clothes, her hair, and a few other expenses, Apple only had eighty dollars left. Though the bus and train were cheaper, she didn’t want to be late for the concert either. Reluctantly, she agreed, and the girls jumped into the cab and were soon headed toward the George Washington Bridge into New Jersey.

  *****

  With Sunday traffic, it was a forty-minute ride to Giants Stadium. The girls jumped out of the cab excitedly and were overwhelmed by the hordes of people and cars surrounding the stadium. It was Apple’s first trip outside of Harlem, and by the look in her eyes, Giants Stadium could have been Europe. Even though it was only a few miles from the city, it was something different for her.

  The girls hurried to the entrance. They didn’t want to miss a single thing. It was like they were in Hollywood, with high-end cars in the parking lot and celebrity buses and trailers parked not too far from the event. The diversity of people attending Summer Jam was something Apple didn’t expect. She noticed Asians, a few Indians, and even some Russians and Mexicans entering the building. There were also quite a few ladies dressed more provocatively than her and her crew. She knew what they came for—to catch a baller or maybe fuck a star.

  The groupies were lined up outside of the stadium for miles, with a candid thirst in their eyes. Apple couldn’t blame them, though, because she looked around and noticed the fine men in attendance, different races, and different sizes. She smiled and gawked at a few. She was in cutie heaven with the ballers and shot-callers all around her.

  “Damn! Niggas is fuckin’ fine out here,” Apple commented with a smile.

  “I know, right.”

  “But they ain’t finer than my boo, Ludacris,” Mesha stated.

  “You mean my boo,” Ayesha corrected her.

  “Uh-uh, my baby comin’ home to me tonight,” Mesha joked.

  “Well, as long as no one ain’t touchin’ my husband Drake, we good,” Apple chimed in.

  “Whateva, Apple,” Mesha teased.

  The trio soon made it past security into the vast arena and looked around for their seats. In the distance Apple could see her friend, Cartier from Brooklyn, heading down toward the Orchestra seats. It looked like she was with Bam and Lil’ Momma.

  “Cartier!” Apple screamed and caught hateful looks from the concert goers. “Cartier!” she yelled once again, ignoring the hard stares.

  “Who you callin’?” Mesha asked the obvious.

  “What it sound like? I just saw Cartier and her crew inching toward the floor seats. I was hoping to get a hook up.”

  “You can’t just leave us,” Mesha stated. “We came together we leave together.”

  Apple ignored her. She hated being seated so high, where it was hard to see anything, but happy to be out of Harlem for once, she made the best of it. Once the girls made it to their seats, Apple looked around wide-eyed at the thousands of fans who came to support their favorite artists.

  The concert opened up with Drake singing “I’m Goin’ In” with Cash Money’s Birdman. The crowd went crazy. Apple jumped up and down, roaring with excitement with the screaming crowd. As she sang along, she kept her eyes on every single detail, like she would be quizzed on it later. It was an intense experience, with the lights, the blaring music, the colossal projector screens all over, and the screaming fans.

  Drake
closed the set with his big hit, “Over.” Nicki Minaj performed the summer dancehall anthem, “Hold You” with Gyptian. She then sang “My Chick Bad” with Ludacris. Ayesha and Mesha went crazy, screaming out, “We love you, Ludacris!” The noise in the stadium was almost deafening, louder than any Jets or Giants game.

  As the night continued, the crowd’s screams never died down. Gucci Mane and Waka Flocka Flame represented for their state by performing “Wasted,” “Lemonade,” and “O, Let’s Do It.”

  Apple was enjoying herself, dancing and singing. Soon, she didn’t care where she was seated, as long as she was at Summer Jam having a good time with her friends.

  The show ended with Usher on stage, and his performance was stellar. He closed out the show with a smash, performing “U Remind Me” and “Yeah!” with Ludacris.

  Though it was getting late and they had a long ride home, Apple didn’t want to leave. She wanted to linger around to look for Cross, so the girls decided to chill in the parking lot. They followed behind the thick crowd toward the exit. It was madness. Security guided the fans out like a herd. There was shouting, laughing, and a few incidents that got defused quickly.

  They exited into the parking lot, where the after-party continued near a few high-end cars and trucks. The ballers and show-offs wanted to impress the ladies walking by with their tricked-out rides and bling. A few ladies mingled with the men, while Apple and her crew continued on their hunt. The girls strutted through the crowd, eyes on them from every direction and the men trying to get at them.

  “Yo, ma, let me holla at you.”

  “Yo, shawty in that skirt, I’m feelin’ them thighs. What’s good?”

  “Damn! Y’all lookin’ fuckin’ right!”

  “Yo, love, let me holla at you and your girls, fo’ real.”

  The catcalls came from every direction, but Apple and her crew just smiled and kept it moving. They were looking for the right dudes to fuck with, and a ride back to Harlem. It was late, and they dreaded the long train and bus ride back into the city.