“No, bitch you ran him off.” She told Yay. "You shouldn't have been born."
That stung. Yay’s feelings were hurt, but she would never show it.
“Who is this nigga? Please tell me so I can beg him to come back and get your pill-head ass, and take you wherever the fuck he been hiding. I promise I’ll be just like him and won’t think twice about your crazy ass."
Yay looked her mother up and down with pity.
"Who the hell wants a pill-head to call their own.” She said and chuckled.
"Watch your mouth before I fuck you up." Her mother warned.
"Fuck you. Now please get out my room; I have shit to do." Yay said.
"You disrespectful bitch." She said and slapped Yay.
Out of reflex, Yay slapped her back. It was not the first time her mother slapped her but it was the first time Yay hit her back. Her mother was in shock. The feeling Yay got out of hitting her mother gave her a rush, so she hit her again. This time she punched her in the nose causing her head to fall back. That’s when the cat fight began. They were scratching and pulling hair. Kicking and cursing. After about two minutes, they both were tired. Yay stopped. Yay’s mom walked back to her room. Yay immediately walked over to the mirror to exam her face. She had a few red marks on her face, but nothing a little make-up couldn't cover. I should fuck her up she said when she saw the long scare on her right breast.
****************
Close to an hour later, Yay was dressed and pulling out of her parking spot. The weather was warm so she rolled with the sunroof up allowing the warm summer breeze to roam throughout her car. Yay’s first stop was to pick up her home girl, P in Watts and then they were headed to Compton. When she got to P’s house, Yay got out to go inside. Paris had a blunt and a glass of Patron waiting. After they smoked their blunt and finished a glass of Patron, the two divas were ready to head to the function on the West Side of Compton. The effects from the blunt and liquor put Yay in a way better mood. She was in so much of a good mood that she didn't even trip about the fact that the party was at a house; well a mini mansion. Later Yay found out that a doctor (RIP, Dr. Chavez) used to live there, but after he was killed, his folks started renting the spot out for different events.
It was so freaking crowded that Yay had to park across the street in the park; even then, she had to create her own parking spot behind another car on the grass. I hope they don't tow my shit, Yay thought as she and Paris got out the car.
"Bitch you know I don't do house parties. But-"
Paris cut her off. "It’s a mansion party. Now put your baller radar on and let's snag us one with paper."
"Okayyyy…" Yay said and hit her hand to agree.
The two divas walked across the street and into the gate of the mansion. The guard that invited Paris spotted the dark brown, curvy, freaky stripper at the gate. He smiled and radioed the front gate guard to let her in. Once she and Yay were in the gate and up the steps that lead to the entrance of the mansion, the guard walked over. He greeted her with a kiss and thanked her for coming and whispered in her ear. She smiled and thanked him for inviting her. He had crush on P and was hoping that his courtesy will get him some play. He knew his looks and small bank roll wouldn't get a sexy gold digging dime like that.
"Where's your boss?" P asked. That was her way of letting him know that she was not interested in small money. She wanted his boss is the owner of Chump Change production.
"He’s out of town. He don't fuck with shit like this."
"Oh. Well this is my girl, Delicious, who I'm sure you know from the club."
He nodded to say yes. Damn he a big black ugly nigga. Yay thought. She then gave him a fake smile. Her smile became real when she noticed the famous, Suge Knight, the founder and CEO of Black Kapital Records and co-founder and former CEO of Death Row Records. He was standing by the waterfall talking with another dude that looked like money.
"Bitch, that's Suge?" Yay questioned.
"Sure is. Come on."
Paris grabbed her by the hand and they headed toward Suge’s direction.
Yay’s mission was delayed when she was pulled back by someone;
"What you doing in my hood?" The dude asked.
Yay was ready to snap on the fool until she looked up at him and noticed it was Wack.
"Boy, get your hands off me."
"You better watch your mouth. Call me Wack or Daddy. Keep boy out cha mouth when you talking to me."
"Delicious. You know him?
"P did a double take.
"Ain't that White-Girl’s dude? Pimp?"
Wack mean mugged Paris for about 30 seconds before she turned her head.
"Don't be looking at her like that." Yay said with a fake attitude.
"Wack pulled Yay into his arms and began rubbing on her ass.
"Excuse you." Yay tried to move his hands.
"You know you like that, now stop playing." Wack told her. "I need to talk to you about something. You wanna make some money?"
"Delicious, you straight?" Paris asked.
She could tell Yay was feeling the nigga. Not just by the way she was unsuccessful with acting like she didn't like him. Shit, Yay talked about how she'll snatch him up from his white bitch whenever he came to the club, but she had to ask.
"Gone and do you." Wack told Paris. When Yay didn't say nothing, Paris walked off cursing to herself because she missed Suge.
Part 2
Chapter 9
"Yay-Yay"
It's been two weeks since I ran into Wack at the party over in
Compton. Tell me why am I feeling this dude and he knows it? Ugh.... I can't stand him, but I am so into him, I mean, the way he walks, he has that cool ass gangster swag. And that “I ain't to be fucked with” disposition just puts the icing on the cake. I like the way he takes control over everything. He say shit like, “Aye, Delicious, put some fly shit on and come scoop a nigga. I wanna show you off.” Before I can even contest, he finalizes it with, “Be here in an hour. If you are going to be late then don't bother to come!” Like, damn nigga. Like that? If I did have the guts to say something like that he would be like, “yup like that.” Oh and don' t let me be talking shit. Y'all know I have a smart mouth. Wack do not play that. He will check my ass in a heartbeat. His favorite line, well one that he uses often is, “watch your muthafucking mouth, before I pop you in it.” I know he ain’t going to do shit. I be damn if I let a nigga hit on me, but I do shut up because I don’t feel like hearing his mouth. That nigga is too much, that’s why I can see how he would have a weak bitch’s mind. That whit girl from the club he fuck with, she ain't nothing to him, but trailer park trash. He took her in when she moved down to L.A., she didn't have a place to go. He claimed his homeboy introduced them. He did admit although she is not his girl, and neither am I, that he did fuck the bitch from time to time. What nigga wouldn’t? She ain't ugly. Plus, it’s easy access; she does live with him. He said that he don’t be fucking her like that because her hustle was not only stripping but fucking for money. I knew she was a ho. I asked him if she sells pussy why don’t she have her own spot. And if she wasn’t his girl why was he picking her up and dropping her off at the club.
“I really ain't tripping off her getting her own place. Shit she pay to stay here. If she move, she move, I ain't tripping off that either. I pick her up and drop her off because she don't have a car and she can't drive. Plus, she don't know her way around LA like that. And before you ask, I ain't letting her catch no cab. Niggas’ thirsty for pussy. Nigga been done followed her and tried to do something to her. Just because I ain't attracted to her don’t mean I don’t give a fuck about her. "Those were his exact words. When he broke it down like that I couldn’t do nothing but respect it. But what I don't respect, or should I say like, is how he be getting mad when he think I am out with another nigga. Or If I don’t call him or answer his call when he calls, he be heated. But at the same time, he ain't trying to be with me, claiming that I ain't ready and that I have
a lot of growing up to do. Oh and speaking of growing up, when I asked him what the deal was between him and that young chick, Sabrina, he claimed that she lied about her age. She told him she was nineteen. He said, he did not know the girl was only fifteen, if he did he would not have looked twice at her. He must be telling the truth because I been around him a lot and I haven't seen her. Me and Wack been kicking it since the night I seen him at the party. Do you know that night I saw him at the party we got a room and spent the night together. Tell me why he didn’t try to fuck me? When I tried to come on to him he told me to slow down and that I was moving too fast. The problem was, he wasn't used to someone else being in control. That's why he had that white bitch. I can't stand her. I still got to pay that ho back from that stunt she pulled at the club. I wished she would have come home when I was over, hopefully get jealous, and get the wrong idea and leave and never come back.
I wanted to ask him where she was, but didn’t. Again, I didn’t feel like hearing his mouth. I hate when he calls me a drama queen or say that I’m immature.
Why I got be immature because I pout or ignore him when he hurts my feelings?
He like the way I ride it.... He like the way I ride it......Wack’s playing my song. That's my cue. I got to go. Wack got me auditioning for this party these football players throwing.
4 minutes later…. This nigga done did it again. He got your girl Yay feeling extra emotional. Let me tell you what happen...Ok, so I am rotating my hips to the lyrics while Wack sits in his chair wearing a pair of grey sweats and a wife beater. He was looking so damn good and wasn't even dressed. Halfway through the song, I slide out of my halter dress, turned around and bent over, grab my ankles and did my famous move... I made my ass clap. I quickly turn back around so that I could catch Wack's reaction; he had a smile on his face. I walked over to him and repeated the freaky lyrics in his ear. I then ran my hand across his chest onto his abs, that’s when I noticed his ten inches staring at me. I bit my lip and looked at him seductively. I could sense that he wanted me as much as I wanted him. My goal was to satisfy both of our needs. I was scared of being rejected like the last time at the room, when I got butt naked and got on top of him but he pushed me away. This time I tried a different approach. I dropped to my knees. Normally I would look my prey in the eyes , but I did not want Wack to tell me to stop. So I am on my knees , mouthwatering; I am ready to suck him off real good. Once I did that he wouldn’t resist the pussy. I pulled Wack’s rock hard pipe out of his pants, bent down ready to suck it and he snatched me by the hair.
“What you doing, girl?” He asked.
Now I am embarrassed. My feelings were hurt. I wouldn’t let him know. I put on a smile and said,
“It’s part of the show.”
The way he stared at me made me uncomfortable. I just knew he was calling me a young immature slut. Again, I played it off. I took my left hand and placed it on his chest as if I was telling him to stay put. I then used my right hand and stroked his dick. I looked in his eyes as I slowly moved my head down to begin my blow job. This time his facial expression read aggravated. I tried to ignore it. But.....
“Get up and go turn that radio off.” He said.
I did what was asked of me. And right after, I walked over and picked my dress up off the ground, and slide it back over my head. I then went over to the sofa and retrieved my red pumps. After I put them on I grabbed my purse, keys and began to walk toward the front door.
“Yalanda.” come here.
The nigga had the nerve to call me by my government name. He did sound sincere, but I didn’t care, my feelings were crushed. I kept walking.
“So you wanna act like a kid now? That’s what I’m talking about. Either you are going to be a kid or act like an adult. I ain't got time for that immature shit.”
Without looking back, I throw up my middle finger.
“That’s what you mad about. You mad because I won’t fuck you.”
I stopped in my tracks, turned around a gave that “nigga please” look. Just in case he did not know what I meant I broke it down. I went in my purse pulled out my cell and held it in the air,
“you see this? I can call any nigga I want to fuck.” I then pointed at myself, “A bitch like me ain't never tripping off no dick.”
I stood there to see what he was going to say. He stared at me like he was disgusted.
”Bitch get the fuck up out my house.”
My heart dropped. I thought he hurt my feelings before, this time he really did. I wanted to curse him out. Call him a punk muthafucka. A white bitch lover, but Wack ain't the type of nigga you can call out of his name and get away with it. Even if I did have the courage, I wouldn't have spoken because I was sure my voice would have cracked up and I would have cried. I turned on my heels and tried my damndest to make the five steps that it took to get to his doorstep into two. “You must think I'm one of them bitch ass niggas you be fucking with” His voice was getting closer. “You better be glad I don't bust you in your muthafucking mouth.”
My hand was on the knob and Wack was up on me holding the door shut. “Move please so I can get out of your house.”
“Shut the fuck up. And turn around and look at me when I am talking to you.”
“I don't have to look at you; you wanted me out your house now let me leave.”
He grabbed me by both arms and made me turn around. We were face to face, although I refused to look at him I could feel him staring at me. Now I was beginning to feel like a punk bitch. Why I couldn't I look this fool in the eyes. I mean I only met him two weeks ago, unlike the dudes I would normally mess with, I would get good dick and money. But not with him. The nigga never offered me money. He purchased our meals the time we went to Roscoe’s Chicken and Waffles and anytime I wanted drink and weed he got it, but that's it. And as you can see, he for damn sure wasn't giving me any dick. So why was I weak when it came to this smooth talking nigga?
Wack took my face in his hands gently. “Look at me Yalanda.” He spoke just above a whisper. OMG, I wanna scream from embarrassment just thinking about it. Why when I looked at the nigga in the eyes, tears fell? I know right!!!!! Like ugh! He whipped my tears gently with his thumbs.
“Stop crying.”
I put my hands on top of his hands trying to remove them from my face, but he asked me to stop and I did.
”Look, man. I shouldn't even tell you this.” He took a deep breath. “But if I don't I got a feeling a nigga is going to regret it. I like you man and you know that. I've been checking you out since the first day I saw you at the club. I knew you were feeling me but I also could tell by the way you would mad dogg White-Girl that you were a drama queen.” He chuckled. “Look I don't like drama. I like peace. I don't wanna fuss and fight with my woman. I want a female that I can just chill with. I know once I give you this dick, you going be on a nigga.”
“Whatever.” I said, getting annoyed by his cockiness.
“Ain't no whatever to it. I know once I taste that shit, I'm going to be hooked on your young fine ass. I know you ain't ready to stop fucking with them square ass niggas you be messing with.”
"I don't mess with nobody.”
When I said that, his voice went from sincere to stern.
“Listen, don't never lie to me. I'm not a square ass nigga. You going to respect me. Keep it 100 or I will cut your ass off quick. I hate a lying bitch. Now like I said. You ain’t ready to stop messing with them squares. So, do yo thang, little momma; I'm good with that. When I think you ready, I’m going to give you what we both been waiting for. Once I do that you're all mine. When I get you, I don't just want your pussy. I want your mind, body and soul.” He then kissed me. His tongue tasted like sugar. I wanted to melt. I could have sworn I felt my wetness run down my leg. Damn, how can a kiss feel so good?
Chapter 10
“Jazz”
So it’s a little past 2am and I couldn't sleep. And men were the reason. I go to the west wing of the mansion where the library i
s located. That's also Diesel’s side of the house when he's home from school. I look through the African American Urban Fiction and Drama section. I passed up my seasoned authors that I loved to death: Tracy Brown and Wahida Clark, because more than likely I've read all their titles. There was a section labeled new authors on the scene. The Game Don't Love Nobody by Kre and ZipCodez: A Watts and Compton Tale by Aleta Williams were the two that grabbed my attention. I decided to read ZipCodez, because I recalled a few people at school talking about how good it was. I'm into the book. I was at the part when Lana and Debo were kicking it at the beach when the lights in the library went out.
"Hey, I'm in here." I said.
"My bad." The voice said and the light came back on.
I looked and it was Diesel. He smiled.
"It’s almost three am; what are you doing still up?".
Salty: A Ghetto Soap Opera (Drama In The Hood) Page 9
