My mama wasn’t working at the time, so we bounced around from house to house again. This time she started telling me that I needed to do less to keep so much attention off myself. I didn’t need to be seen. Soon, there were excuses as to why I couldn’t get my hair fixed, anymore. I couldn’t go anywhere. I couldn’t wear anything formfitting. All to keep nasty men,” she made quotation marks with her fingers. “Away from me. Let Meeka tell it, it was my body, and the way I’m built that had grown ass men not being able to keep their hands off me. So, I needed to change the way I carried myself to stop tempting her men. Later, she stopped issuing out excuses as to why I couldn’t get my hair done, or shop for decent clothes. All that shit was just out of the question.”
“That’s fucked up. I mean, you say that you deal with your daddy’s mama or even your mama’s mama. Why you aint go stay with one of them?”
“Because my granny on my mama’s side is from the old skool. She believes that children aint supposed to be heard, and that I should listen to whatever my mama tells me…because she’s my mama. And my daddy’s mama? She knows exactly what I go through, and that’s why she gives me a few extra ends whenever she can, but other than that…she does nothing. I overheard her talking to her sister one day talking about her not feeling comfortable with me living with her, because she got a old man. Apparently, she knows that her man likes to trick with young girls, and she’s not sure if those men fucking with me has made me promiscuous. And she don’t want me fucking her man for a few dollars.”
“No bullshit?” I frowned. “Your granny actually said that?”
She nodded. “She actually said that. And she’s cool with my mama making me wear those oversized clothes, because my shape is too much.”
“That’s crazy.” I shook my head.
“Heeey, Omari,” two girls from the hood spoke. I knew that they went to school with Mya, and had tried to throw me some pussy a few times.
“What’s up?” I replied.
“Ewe, Big Mya, I know them shorts is crying,” one of the girls laughed, pointing a finger.
Her girl leaned on her shoulder, giggling uncontrollably. “I bet them bitches is good and funky too.”
“Bitch, it smell just like your stanky ass breath!” Mya lashed, tipping in the girls’ direction.
“Ay, chill out.” I placed a hand on her shoulder, pulling her back. “Don’t let them lil’ lame dick sucking hoes get to you,” I advised loud enough for those little bitches to hear me.
Of course, all that laughing came to halt, as they kept it moving.
“Omari, I thought that was you,” I heard somebody say from a distance. I turned to see Vance, jogging toward me. He was one of my biggest customers, because he loved popping tabs, and smoking herb.
“What up, nigga?” I questioned, as he approached me.
“I need two grams of that sticky icky.”
“A’ight,” I agreed, kneeling over, going into my sock, pulling out two bags of exotic. “Here,” I stood up, handing off the weed.
“Appreciate ya,” he discreetly handed me thirty dollars.
“For sho’,” I nodded, as he jogged off. I looked up to catch Mya shaking her head. “What’s all that for?”
“You out here serving niggas out in the open. How long you plan on doing this?”
I felt slighted. “How long do you plan to let life beat you down? When are you gonna do something about that?”
“Oh, nigga,” she threw her hands on her hips. “I aint letting life do shit. Yeah, my home life is all fucked up, and these lil’ bitches stay on some funny shit, but I know it’s more out here for me. That’s why I’m gone the minute I graduate.”
“You gone, huh? And then what?”
“And then I’ma go to school.”
“School, huh? So, that’s going to immediately solve all your problems?” I questioned sarcastically.
“Omari, don’t patronize me, okay. I am not Meeka. You take your little jabs at her, and it flies over her head. But you got me fucked up. For your information, I’ve been accepted to every college I applied for. I’m in honor classes, and already have a few college hours. And after weighing all my options, I’m going to community college.”
“Community college? Get the fuck outta here. You expect me to believe that you got accepted to all these schools only to choose fucking community college?”
“Yes.” She snaked her neck. “I did my research, and all the schools I want to attend are out of state. And to go to school out of state you’ll need parental support, because shit is harder financially. It’s already been established that I don’t have fucking support. So, I can go to HCC, get that grant money, and some loans, to get on my feet. The classes are dirt cheap, and I can use the remaining money to get a car and a apartment far away from here.”
“I guess you got it figured out…but in the meantime, you stuck at ya mama’s, putting up with her bullshit. But me? I refuse to let somebody dictate my destiny, so I’m grinding. If she put a nigga out tomorrow I’d be straight. Yeah, I got aspirations outside of hustling, like my music for example, but I gotta deal with the right here and now. So, I hustle.”
“Your music, huh?” she cut her eyes at me. “You really wanna be a rapper.”
“Don’t patronize me, Mya,” I mocked her. “You know that’s what I’m gonna be. I bet your life on it.”
“Nigga, don’t put that shit on my life,” she giggled. “But seriously, I took vocal lessons, and everything. I used to want to sing.”
“What changed that?”
She pursed her lips, with this bitter expression on her face. “Meeka.”
“How did she do that?”
She shifted one leg to the side, leaning her weight on it, unintentionally causing her sharp hip to poke out further. “She made me stop believing in fairytales, and focus on my reality.”
I shook my head. “Well, that’s fucked up. You can’t let nobody kill your dreams.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well, that’s easy for you to say.”
Chapter 5
Mya
“I can’t believe his bitch ass kept us after class,” I complained.
“I know,” Nisha agreed. “Mr. Washington need some pussy in his life.”
“Or some dick,” I added. “He looks fucking gay. I just know we gone miss the bus,” I worried, as we walked through the hallway at school.
“Yeah, I know,” Nisha mumbled, as she gazed down at her phone, texting away.
I was thankful that Omari had given me a few dollars the other day, so that if push came to shove I could catch the bus. But I swear, I wasn’t looking forward to that shit, either. The metro was super crowded around this time of day, and I was ready to get home. My entire day had been filled with drama, and I was so over it.
For the past few days, I’d been changing into my school clothes at school. I’d wear my unflattering clothes to leave home, but then change out of the shit. I had a few pair of pants that my mama thought I’d thrown away, and they were tight as fuck. Anyway, I had been rocking the pants, changing my look drastically. Then thanks to Omari buying me another flat iron I’d been able to wear my hair down, and a few bitches didn’t seem to like that. So, for two days a few bitches had been hackling me, on some dry hating shit. I knew it was because their boyfriends had been in my face, but I wasn’t thinking about those lame ass niggas. But you couldn’t tell that to those dumb hoes, who were coming for me in Mr. Washington’s class, calling me fat bitches, claiming that I probably had a yeast infection. Of course, I fired their asses up, but the shit wasn’t over, and I knew these particular chicks were known for jumping. So, I could feel it in my veins. Drama was around the corner. And it was fucked up, because I was just getting my mojo back. It had been so long since I’d been cool with what I see in the mirror, and just as I was beginning to see some beauty within myself, these hoes come with the bullshit. Why couldn’t I be great in peace?
I was in my own little world when we stepped o
ut of the school’s main building, so it took me a few seconds to realize that Nisha had slyly walked ahead of me. By the time I realized it, she was clear across the courtyard.
“Nisha!” I shouted, and the bitch never looked back.
I assumed that she didn’t hear me, until I realized what was happening. That broke, disrespectful ass Twist was there to pick her up, and our mutual friend Jayde was climbing into his car with her. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was hooking her up with the same nigga who was trying to get at me. Nisha was my girl, but the bitch could be downright cutthroat. But it was cool, because I wasn’t riding with them hoe ass niggas, regardless.
“Boy, that bitch is unreal,” I said to myself.
“Who?” a voice whispered into my ear, scaring the fuck out of me.
“The fuck?” I gasped, holding my chest, realizing that it was my classmate Marcus. “Nigga, why you playing?!” I shoved him back.
He chuckled. “Your messy ass need to stop talking about people.”
I rolled my eyes at him. He was the class clown, handsome as fuck, with smooth almond skin, deep wavy hair, had anice height, and was popular as hell. As of late, he’d been having plenty of conversation for me, but I hadn’t decided what to do with the extra attention he was throwing my way. Honestly, I’d been conditioned to turning down ugly niggas, and didn’t know how to handle all the new admiration from desirables. Talk about fucking clueless.
“Nah, you better stop creeping up on people, before somebody pop yo ass,” I rebutted.
He smiled, while he continued to invade my space. “Why you so mean, Mya?”
“Why are you so worried about it, Marcus?” I shot back.
“Because. I like you,” he admitted easily, rendering me speechless.
I mean, what the hell was I supposed to say? If it wasn’t something smart, then I was lost.
“Move, bitch,” Brea, one of the hoes I’d been beefing with, shoved past me, seemingly trying to take my damn shoulder off.
I spun around, ready to hurt somebody. “Bitch, watch where the fuck you going!”
Brea’s bestie, Kendra, stood directly in front of me. “She can’t help it. Your fat ass was taking up the whole side walk.”
“Yeah, you big nasty hoe!” Their other friend, Jewel, chimed in, getting into a boxer’s stance, acting like she was preparing to hit me. “I’ma slide your ass, while you all in my nigga’s face!”
Marcus frowned. “Jewel, go’on with that bullshit! You know I stopped fucking with you last week!”
With no time for formalities, I laid into that bitch, hitting Jewel in her mouth. By the time, she attempted to retaliate I had her in a choke hold. With my hands tied, somebody yanked the shit out of my hair. Still, I focused on Jewel, body slamming her to the ground.
“Bitch, get off her,” somebody gritted, as they punched me in the face.
“Yall stop that shit!” I heard Marcus yell, and since he was so close, I assumed that he was attempting to break the fight up. But I can’t front, the punches were coming harder, and I was becoming desperate, as I was outnumbered.
Somehow, I managed to remain on my feet, as I exchanged blows with three bitches. They were pulling the fuck out of my hair, and scratching my face. In fact, Brea was digging her nails deep into my skin.
“You think I wasn’t gone hear about your fat ass riding around with my man? Huh?!” she seethed. I didn’t know what the fuck that crazy bitch was talking about. Who the fuck was her man?
“Break this shit up!” a dude growled, as Brea was yanked away from me, followed by her friends.
Having a chance to focus, I realized that it was Omari who’d pulled them off me. Marcus now had Jewel in a bear hug, carrying her away. Brea was damn foaming at the mouth, as she charged at me.
“What’s up, hoe!” she raged, as Omari grabbed her before she could reach me. “Nigga, you defending your fat bitch? Huh? I know you fucking this hoe. I know it! All them people aint lying!” she shouted. “Just look at her. Wearing them cheap ass pants, and them ran over Adidas. Bitch been wearing them hoes since school started. Ole dusty ass bitch!”
“That hoe fucking everybody,” Kendra claimed, but wasn’t running up without her friends being free to help. “But look like she shop at the thrift store. The fuck you fucking these niggas for, bitch? What, some edge control? Cause you aint got two pennies to rub together. And now you squeezing your big ass in kids’ clothes, trying to get some attention. All these niggas want out of you is some head.”
“Hoe, shut up,” I growled, hitting her with a mean two-piece that knocked her on her ass.
“Get the fuck on!” Omari barked, as he violently slung Brea, and she tumbled back a whole damn yard. “Come on, Mya,” he grabbed my hand, pulling me away from the scene.
“Bitch, it aint over!” Brea shouted.
“I’m ready whenever, you dizzy ass bitch!” I roared.
“Man, let that shit go,” Omari urged. “That hoe aint gon do shit.”
“I should kill those bitches,” I fumed, as I yanked the Jeep’s door open. I hopped in, while Omari climbed in on the driver’s side. He burnt rubber, pulling away from the curb.
“These lil’ bitches is wildin’ today,” he murmured.
I shook my head, as I examined myself in the mirror. My hair was a mess, and I had a few deep scratches on my face. Those hoes were really coming for my jugular. “Look at my face,” I sniveled, attempting to hold back tears. I couldn’t let them break me. “This shit is probably gonna leave a scar,” I became choked up. “I’m tired of these hoes, man.” Tears rolled down my face against my will. “It’s always something. When I’m coming to school all fucked up they wanna laugh at me, and talk behind my back. But when I can put a little extra effort into my appearance I gotta deal with dry ass beef. It’s like I can’t win. If it aint my clothes, it’s my old ass shoes,” I blubbered. “Look at my hair,” my lips trembled.
“Man…” he dragged out, seeming he like he didn’t know what to say. “It’ll be alright.”
Even as he said that, there was no certainty in his voice. He probably didn’t have a clue as to how I felt. Shit, we both lived in the same house, but lived two different qualities of life. I walked or caught buses everywhere, while he freely drove around in my mama’s Jeep. I was teased about my clothes, while everything he wore was designer. In the short while he’d lived with us, he’d accumulated so many clothes, and shoes. He shopped constantly, and didn’t have to pay any bills, while my mama used my child support to pay all the bills. Shit was sweet for him, while I walked in daily hell. And I was tired of it all.
I cut my eyes at him, realizing that he’d basically come out of nowhere. I’d never seen him anywhere near my school, which told me that him being out there was no coincidence. “How did you did you know I was fighting? What were you doing at my school?” I wiped away my tears.
He slid his tongue across his teeth. “Brea’s stupid ass shot me a text, saying how they was gonna jump you after school over some shit her friends told her. I guess they saw us at the park, and told her. When she came at me about it I told her that she was out of line for questioning me; period. She aint my bitch, and know damn well that I live with somebody. And I told her to leave you alone. But something told me to stop by there to see if they’d fuck with you.”
“This shit crazy. You fuck with my mama, but hoes are fighting me for riding in my mama’s truck with you? The fuck is going through these hoes’ heads?”
“Main, Ion know. That dumb bitch told me she understood what it was, but now she wanna act crazy.”
“Well, you know how bitches are. Her emotions don’t give a fuck about titles, but she got me fucked up. On God, I’ma catch all three of those bitches one by one.” I pounded my fist into my palm, while more tears poured from my eyes. “Cause I aint do shit to them. But now I’m a hoe? With my dusty ass? Oh, I got them bitches. I don’t care if I fuck around and get expelled. I aint gon allow those bitches to keep clowning me. They w
as all in class, saying I stank, and claiming that I got two pair of pants that I rotate, wearing them every other day,” I vented. “So, come tomorrow morning it’s going down. I’m slicing bitches on sight.”
“Mya, on everything I love, you aint gotta do nothing. I’ma handle this. Brea aint gon fuck with you no more. I promise.”
I faced him. “I’d love to know how you gonna do that. That girl aint finna stop. She got it in her head that we fucking. So, she gon bring the static, until somebody folds. She did the same thing over her baby daddy last school year, and forced two girls to transfer schools.”
“Say, if I say it’s handled, then it’s handled. And why you letting what them hoes say get to you? They aint got shit their self, so how the fuck can they say what the next person aint got?”
I rolled my eyes, refusing to look at him. “Yeah, they might aint got much, but it’s definitely more than me.”
“If you say so,” he briefly glanced at me, before focusing on the road.
I had been so lost in my feelings that I hadn’t initially noticed that he was driving in the opposite direction of our apartments. But I knew for a fact that he had a different destination, as he entered the freeway’s ramp. “Where are you going?” I asked.
“Just ride, man,” he answered.
With my feelings still raw, I decided to take his advice. We rode in silence, while his cell rang off the hook. Occasionally, he’d glance down at the phone, but never bothered to pick up, as it rested in his lap. My question was answered when he pulled up to the Galleria mall, but I was still utterly confused.
“What’s up here?” I wanted to know, as he found a spot in the underground garage.
Even When It's Wrong Page 6
