Even When It's Wrong

by Nicole Jackson

  And yeah, Skyy was clearly the better choice if you compared her to Meeka, but something was keeping me there at Meeka’s crib. And I didn’t wanna be rushed to make a decision. At least not now…but then again, the rental was alright, but a nigga really needed his own car. However, with the way shit was looking, Skyy would only help a nigga cop the right whip if I was talking about taking our relationship to the next level. This all told me that ultimately, I had some decisions to make.

  “So, that’s all you gonna say?” she carried on, as I casually smoked my blunt.

  “What more is there to say? Me and the girl live in the same house. I realized that she can sing, so I brought her to the studio. What, was I supposed to be on board with you trying to embarrass her in front of everybody? Is that what you call treating her like my bitch?”

  “It wasn’t just that…” she blabbed, as I tuned her out.

  I sat staring at my cell, as I silently received a incoming call. Speaking of the damn devil. Mya was hitting me up, but for numerous reasons I decided not to answer. Skyy was too far into my business to give her another reason to question my interactions with Mya, so I’d ignored several of her calls. But I didn’t think much of it, knowing that at the end of the day I’d see her whenever I’d make it to the crib.

  Mya

  “Nerie, them Jays fresh. Where you get them from?” Lacresha questioned.

  Nerie glanced down at her shoes, as we stood outside of school. “Shit, hell if I know. My man got ‘em for me.”

  Lacresha arched her brows. “I guess. Everybody aint able. I thought your mama was just nice like that.”

  “Girl please.” Nerie rolled her eyes. “With five kids? Nah. My mama can’t afford shit past Rainbow. So, I keep me a nigga that’s gonna go get it. And have a car. And is generous with that money.”

  “Shit, put me down,” Lacresha high-fived her.

  “Maybe one day,” Nerie claimed. “Then you can kick them lames you deal with to the curb. I aint hollering at a nigga that aint able and willing to pull up every day, and scoop me. And it better be a slab.” She lightly elbowed me. “I’m trying to hip Mya on to it now. No busters over here.” She winked. “But don’t worry. I’ma have ya right in a minute.”

  Right then, a red Buick LeSabre with fours poking, pulled up in front of us.

  Switching her hips, Nerie swiftly stepped to the car, making sure that everybody knew who it had pulled up for. She yanked the passenger’s door open, before glancing back at me. “So, you coming, or not?” she badgered.

  I stood outside of the Buick, which was parked at the curb outside of our school, staring at my cell. Thinking. She wanted me to ride with her, her boyfriend, and his cousin. Clearly, she was trying to hook me up with the cousin, but I was trying to see what was up with Omari. I’d called him a million times, but there was no answer. As of late, he’d been out of pocket, and wasn’t even using Meeka’s car, anymore. I was beginning to feel as if I’d put too much hope into him. Perhaps, I’d been in a fantasy world; one where I could foolishly have a real relationship with my mama’s boyfriend. But reality was quickly sinking in.

  Omari was a ladies’ man, and wasn’t loyal to anybody. My mama wasn’t even the only woman, so I don’t know why I thought that I’d somehow get better results than her. Then I couldn’t even bring myself to tell another soul that I was fucking him, so I hadn’t even considered how that would translate into me getting seriously involved with him. Everybody and their mamas would label me as a slut…and they would probably be right. Therefore, it was becoming painfully clear that what I’d done with Omari was wrong, and wasn’t leading anywhere. And with the way I could hardly get in touch with him was confirming everything I’d considered. It was time to explore my options.

  “I guess I am,” I finally replied.

  Nerie smiled brightly. “Good. ‘Bout time you stopped acting scary.”

  “Whatever,” I rolled my eyes.

  “Come on, get in,” she urged, as she slid into the front seat.

  I sucked my teeth, before I reluctantly eased into the backseat.

  “What you looking like that for? You’on wanna sit back here with me?” the dude questioned.

  I shrugged, before turning to gaze out of the window, while Nerie’s boyfriend pulled away from the curb.

  “What that mean?” he pressed, trying to engage me.

  “I don’t know.” I shook my head.

  “You must got a man,” he assumed.

  I felt a small pain in my stomach, knowing that I had no such thing. No matter how much I wished that wasn’t the case. I turned to face him, realizing that he was actually handsome. He was a clean-cut red nigga with gentle facial features. “No, I don’t,” I answered him.

  “That’s what’s up,” he smiled. “So, can I be your friend?”

  I smirked. “Maybe.”

  “Maybe, huh?” he hooded his eyes. “I can take that for now. A nigga gotta start somewhere.”

  ******

  “This the last blunt, right here,” Leon, Nerie’s boyfriend announced.

  “And it’s some fire,” Nerie commented, and she took a drag off the blunt we had in rotation. She had her ass tooted up on Leon’s dick, as he leaned against his Buick.

  We were chilling in the driveway of Leon’s mama’s house, getting high. Thus far, he and his cousin seemed like some cool dudes, which allowed me to get comfortable.

  “Well, pass it this way, you dope dog,” Harry, Leon’s cousin, spoke up. “Your girl think she’s slick,” he lightly elbowed me.

  I giggled, full of that weed. Everything was funny to me, as Harry continuously cracked jokes. He was cool as hell, and I loved the fact that he had a regular nine to five. He worked for Coca-Cola, and had his own car. His whole packaging seemed like somebody perfect to bring home to your mama.

  “Tell her that we like to smoke too,” Harry jested.

  Before I could respond, I felt my phone vibrate in my hand. My ringer was off, but I knew exactly who was calling me. Now that I was posted up kicking it, Omari wanted to call back. I figured that I’d handled him just like he’d handled me, and I’d get to him when I felt like it. But he was relentless, calling back to back.

  Deciding to shoot him a quick message, I texted: I’m busy

  He replied: Answer the muthafucking phone!!

  I shook my head, as I placed my phone in my back pocket.

  “That was your lil’ boyfriend?” Harry quizzed.

  I threw my hands on my hips. “I told you that I didn’t have a boyfriend.”

  “I would believe you if this wasn’t like the twentieth call you ignored.”

  “Aww, let me find out you a lil’ hot ass, Mya,” Leon chuckled.

  Nerie sucked her teeth. “My friend aint like that.”

  “Nah, Ion think she’s a hot ass, but somebody is chasing her fine ass,” Harry added.

  “But whoever the nigga is aint fucking with you, though. Mya, you better leave them lil’ niggas alone, and see what my kinfolk talking about,” Leon suggested. “Get with the winning team. Cause me and my kinfolk on our money. Definitely got more than whatever nigga is calling your phone. Tell her, bae,” he popped Nerie’s ass.

  “Yeah, Mya, Harry is cool, and I think that yall would be cute together,” she offered.

  Harry was grinning from ear to ear. “I couldn’t agree with that more.” He tossed an arm over my shoulder, as he gazed down at me. “Your pretty ass would look great, right here. All the time.”

  “I guess,” I sighed, not knowing what else to say.

  “Hell, yeah. You better take heed,” Leon mumbled, as he texted on his phone. “Don’t sleep on him.”

  Nerie nosily glanced down at his screen. “Who you texting?”

  “Why you so nosy?” he pecked her lips, before focusing on his phone again. “This money, girl. My homie finna come through and bless me. I was getting low on work, and I needed some more weed. So, he got me on both ends. In fact, he’s on his way, right now
. And my nigga don’t move for less than five hundred,” he bragged.

  “So, he’s the man to see?” Nerie arched a brow.

  Leon nodded. “He definitely doing his thang. Shit, Ion fuck with nah nigga who aint on his shit.”

  “And that’s something that I can vouch for,” Harry co-signed.

  Leon’s eyes zoomed in on something behind me. “There that nigga go, right there. My nigga never keeps me waiting,” he boasted.

  I glanced over my shoulder, and noticed a Lexus truck, pulling up. Curiously, I watched to see who’d emerge, and I was rendered speechless when I saw his face. Leon’s boy was Omari’s ass.

  “You must’ve been right around the corner, nigga,” Leon shouted, as Omari swaggered over, wearing Robin’s jeans, t-shirt, and Red Bottom tennis shoes.

  Luckily, Omari never looked my way, as he casually strolled to the edge of the driveway. “Hell, yeah. I was just up the street,” he admitted.

  Leon met him where he was standing. “That’s what’s up.”

  “Hey, Omari,” Nerie practically sang, causing him to look her way. It actually sounded like she was trying to flirt, but I could’ve been wrong. Anyway, from there his eyes wandered to me.

  Immediately, his eyes narrowed. “Mya, the fuck you doing here?” he stepped around Leon.

  I shrugged. “Minding my business.”

  “Minding your business?” he repeated, as he closed in on me. I wasn’t bothered by his aggression, but the problem was that me and Harry were basically standing shoulder to shoulder, which made Omari standing directly in front of me awkward as fuck. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?” he growled. “You aint see me calling you?”

  “Yeah, but I was…” I began to explain, before I was cut off.

  “I’m saying, can you back up a little, my nigga?” Harry questioned hostilely.

  Omari leaned his head back. “Who this nigga talking to?”

  Harry stood his ground. “I’m talking to you. I don’t like no man standing this close to me.”

  “Nigga,” Omari snarled. “Ion give a fuck what you’on like. If you feeling some type of way, handle it. That’s my best advice to you.”

  “Ay, man, yall chill out,” Leon interrupted, stepping over to us.

  “Nah, you need to tell ya people to chill out. Cause he’on wanna see me. I promise,” Omari spoke venomously.

  “Bitch ass nigga, you’on wanna see m…” Harry spat, before Omari punched him in the mouth.

  “Man, yall tripping!” Leon yelled, as he jumped in front of Omari. “Gwuap, my nigga, that’s my people. Let him make it, man.”

  Omari’s nostrils flared. “He ya people, huh?”

  “Fuck him,” Harry seethed, as he attempted to charge at Omari.

  “Chill, nigga!” Leon belted, shoving his cousin back. He turned to Omari. “Yeah. He’s my people, man.”

  “Well, since he ya people, blame ya people for having to find another way to score. You aint eating with me no more, nigga. So, fuck you and ya people,” he spewed.

  “My nigga, it aint even gotta be like that,” Leon pleaded his case.

  “Man, miss me,” Omari waved him off, before focusing on me. “Let’s go.”

  “Leon, man, fuck him. That nigga aint the only nigga around here with some work,” Harry spat.

  “SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Leon roared, as his face turned beet red. Spinning around, he grabbed Omari’s shoulder. “Let me holler at you, big homie.”

  Omari jerked away from him, before whirling around. “Don’t touch me, nigga! Before I kill your bitch ass,” he spewed, before turning to focus on me again. “Mya, let’s go!”

  I frowned. “Go where? I aint going nowhere with you.”

  “Man,” he drawled, grabbing my forearm.

  “Omari, stoooop,” I stressed, as he practically dragged me out of the driveway. “Let me gooooo.”

  “Shut up,” he gritted, before snatching the door of the SUV open, and shoving me inside.

  After he slammed the door in my face, I dropped my head into my palms, feeling embarrassed, as fuck. I didn’t even look his way, as he hopped in on the driver’s side, and skirted off the block.

  Chapter 10

  Omari

  “What’s up with you? Why you hanging with them lame ass niggas?” I asked her, while steering my way through evening traffic.

  Sassily, she sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes. “What’s up with you? Who got you this rental?” she shot back.

  “Mya,” I glanced her way. “Stop playing with me.”

  “What?” she frowned. “How am I playing with you? I asked you a legitimate question. I mean, you just embarrassed the hell out of me, and dragged me to this truck. But I can’t know who got it for you? I know it wasn’t Meeka.”

  I nodded. “And that’s all you need to know.”

  “Well, if you can’t tell me something that simple, then what right did you have to make me leave that man’s house? I was chilling,” she pouted.

  “You was chilling, huh? I bet you’on even know them niggas like that. Clearly, they didn’t know that I know you, which says plenty. Leon’s bullshit ass scores coke from me on the daily, and it aint because he got a mean hustle. He definitely snorts more than he sells, which is why he breaks into niggas’ cars at night. And then sells me the merchandise.”

  She swallowed hard, which told me that she was fully unaware. But then she comes with the bullshit. “Okay, I hear you. He’s a powder head, but what does that have to do with me? I was hanging with his cousin, and my friend.”

  I snarled, “That got everything to do with you. The company you keep can come down to some life or death shit, depending on the situation. Clearly, that nigga Leon is living life on the edge, taking niggas’ shit. And there’s always the possibility of somebody retaliating. And you could’ve easily been laying on the ground, with a bullet in your head over some shit he took.”

  “Well, clearly, I’m alive and fucking breathing,” she snapped.

  I shook my head. “Now aint the time for that fly ass mouth of yours. Fuck around and get popped in it.”

  “Who gon pop me?!” she shouted, clapping her hands dramatically. “Bitch or nigga, I’m going in. Bet that!”

  I chuckled. “Where’s that mentality when Meeka goes across your fucking head?”

  She paused, before glaring at me. “That’s how you wanna come? Well, you aint gotta say shit else to me.” She fell back into her seat, and gazed out of the window.

  I knew she was in her feelings, as her chin rested in the palm of her hand. “I was just fucking with you,” I laughed, but she never bothered to look my way. “Mya,” I grabbed her arm, and she snatched away. “Why you gotta take shit so personal?”

  “Shut up talking to me!” she roared.

  “So, you mad now? Huh?”

  She said nothing.

  “Shit, I just spent seven hundred dollars on a new iPhone, and I called that muthafucka, and couldn’t get no answer. That bitch just rung. So, if anything I should be the nigga with a attitude. But yet you got your lips all turned up, like somebody fucking did something to you.”

  Her little nose twinkled, but she still didn’t utter a word, as she sat defiantly with her arms crossed. I pulled into the apartments with this awkward silence between us, and I had every intention of letting her ass hop out, before I’d go on about my business. But those plans quickly fell apart, as she angrily jumped out, slammed the door shut, and sashayed past Quinten, and his boys.

  “Ay, ay, Mya, bring ya fine ass here!” he yelled, as she traveled down the sidewalk.

  Pushing my door open, I eased out the SUV. Tugging at my sagging jeans, I spat on the ground, before stomping after her. But not before stopping to holler at Quinten’s bitch ass.

  “Say, play boy, we already discussed this before. You aint got shit to say to her,” I let him know in front of his boys.

  Saying nothing, he just glared at me. I knew that he was pissed, and probably feeling a way about me
handling him while his niggas were standing there. So, I knew that we’d revisit this again, but gladly I stayed ready.

  So, after shrugging his hoe ass off, I continued on my mission. Mya was speed walking, still in her feelings, as she created quite a bit of distance between us. Still, I had a nice view of that profile, and was enjoying the sight…until I realized that mostly every nigga outside was watching that ass too. Admittedly, her looking so good usually caused me to stick my chest out a little further, knowing that I’d been the one to manifest her full potential. But now that she wasn’t a diamond in the rough, and was outwardly shining harder than a bitch, I had to question if her new sparkle was a gift, or a curse.

  I mean, the girl had the kind of body that made everybody in the room uncomfortable. Her shit was loud, and she never even had to utter a word. Then as she strutted, it looked like her body was moving to its own music. And the shit must’ve been calling our thirsty ass neighbors, as all those niggas hollered her name.

  With her head down, she ignored the attention, and quickly let herself into the crib. Picking up the pace, I was able to catch the door just before she closed it. “So, you just gone close the door in my face?” I questioned, before stepping inside.

  She kept her back to me, as she headed to the kitchen.

  “Mya, you’on hear me talking to you?” I pressed, coming up behind her.

  She reached the refrigerator, as I grew frustrated. Tired of her silent treatment, I gripped her forearm, spinning her around. I was shocked to find tears streaming down her pretty face.

  “What you crying for?”

  She blinked her eyes, I guess trying to stop the flow, but it was no use. Tears continuously fell. She shook her head, before somberly giggling. “I can’t believe this.”

  “Believe what?” I furrowed my brows.

  “Believe that I’m shedding tears over this.”

  I glowered down at her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means that I’m a fool. I got my hopes all high, thinking you were different. Thinking that we were on to something special. Thinking that you’d never use my fucked up circumstances to beat me over the head. Of all people, I thought that you’d understand it.”