nigga, you need a ride?” Tyriq asked.
“We ain’t in no rush,” Spoon added.
Vince thought it over with the quickness. “Let’s do it,” he replied jumping into the backseat. He admired the soft, gray leather seats thinking of owning a car like this. His favorite whips were Acura’s and Accords.
“The E or A train…?” Tyriq asked.
“E. What y’all dealing wit’ today…?”
“Yo, we fit’n to see some white bitches out in L.I. We met ‘em on the Ave last week doing their thang. They want ballers,” Spoon said twisting a blunt.
“Oh word…damn, I envy y’all. I gotta go to this bullshit-ass job,while y’all get high wit’ some white bitches,” Vince said.
“Fuck the job. Roll with us ayyite my nigga,” Tyriq suggested.
“Today is like my first day.”
“Ayyite, I’ll double whatever you was gonna make today. Have some fun, get some ass, my niggah, cuz these bitches are fuck-freaks,” Tyriq said.
Vince smiled. His pops would flip out if he found out that he missed the first day. Vince knew he would get screamed on. But temptation was stronger.
“So what’s it gonna be, Vince? You down or what…?” Spoon asked taking a long pull from the burning blunt and passing it to Vince.
“Fuck it, yo…I’m down with y’all,” Vince said, taking the smoldering blunt from Spoon’s hand. Pussy and partying was on his mind. “I’ll just tell the people at work, I got lost. That’s all. This is my first day. It ain’t like they gonna miss me.”
“Ayyite, that’s what’s up,” Tyriq said.
“When you leaving for school, my nigga?” Spoon asked.
“Last week of August, kid...” Vince answered sucking on the blunt.
“Damn, college yo…you doing your thang, boy,” Spoon said.
“Yeah, pops got me stressed about this job though, talkin’ bout I need to save some money for books, food and shit while I’m there.”
“I ain’t mad at you, my nigga…do your thang my nigga,” Spoon complimented.
“Fuck a college! I don’t need no degree to get paid out here. Me, personally I feel school’s a waste of time,” Tyriq said, with his ignorance.
“Vince, don’t listen to this cat. Keep doing your thang. He can’t read anyway,” Spoon joked.
“I know how to count my money, ayyite. And how to hold down these streets, that’s all I need to know, ayyite?” Tyriq quickly retorted.
“Hey to each is own,” Vince chuckled, feeling the affects of the weed. “Damn, this some strong shit y’all fucking round wit’,” he coughed.
“Shit coming straight off the island boat. We got half a pound stashed,” Spoon informed.
“Damn!” Vince was still coughing.
Tyriq continued onto Southern State Parkway. Weed smoke lingered in the car, and heads nodded in the rhythm to the sound of the Lost Boyz’s, Jeeps, Lex, Coupes, Beemers and Benz.
“Yo, how far out on the island these bitches live?” Vince asked, work became a distant memory.
“Damn Vince, you thirsty like that?” Tyriq joked.
“Messing wit’ this weed got me hornier than a muthafucka,” he laughed.
Spoon and Tyriq joined in.
“Ayyite! But nigga don’t leave any stains on my seat,” Tyriq joked.
“Fuck you, nigga,” Vincent said, his middle-finger held high. “Yo, I hope y’all got a bitch for me,” he continued.
“Nigga, the way these bitches are, they’ll fuck you, me and your pops,” Tyriq stated, smiling.
“Leave my pops out. Just have a bad bitch for me to fuck wit’,” Vince laughed.
“And you was ready to go to work, like a Herb? Now you can do your thang hard, nigga,” Spoon said.
The three pulled up to a two-level bricked house in North Babylon. The tree-lined street was quiet, with manicured lawns and a silver Benz parked in the driveway.
“This is the real thang,” Spoon said as he exited the car.
Vince and Tyriq followed closely behind. They paused checking out the serene neighborhood. In this serene setting of white America, the three stuck out like blackheads on a light skin bitch.
The doorbell sounded and Tyriq stood in front of the customized oak wood doors waiting for the girls to respond.
“I hope they’re cute. Fucking wit’ y’all made me miss my first day.”
“Vince, be easy, ayyite? You here to enjoy yourself, man,” Tyriq said, with a slight attitude.
The doors opened. Two beautiful blond girls stood in the foyer gleaming.
“Y’all made it,” one said cheerfully.
“Y’all brought the weed?” the second girl asked.
“You know we do our thang,” Spoon answered proudly.
“Ayyite, and we brought a friend,” Tyriq said. “Sophia and Susan, this my nigga, Vince.”
“Nice to meet you, Vince,” the girls greeted with a naughty grin.
Vince smiled. Both girls were pretty. Susan was clad in a short ruffle denim skirt and blue bikini top. Sophia wore coochie-cutting shorts with a pink bikini top.
The three guys stepped in unaware that a nearby neighbor’s eyes followed their moves.
“Ayyite, I know y’all can get a friend for my nigga,” Tyriq suggested.
The girls smiled at each other then Susan said, “I know someone.”
“Do that thang and call the bitch. It ain’t no fun if my homie can’t have none…” Spoon laughed.
The girls chuckled. Susan picked up a cordless and started dialing. Her parents were out of town for the week and she wanted to take full advantage.
The huge house was replete with Italian décor, imported pictures and a giant wide screen adorned the great room. There was a crystal chandelier suspended above the dining room table and outside in the back was a large patio adjacent to a swimming pool.
“It looks like money,” Vince said.
“You like?” Susan asked.
“Nice, a nigga could get used to a place like this,” he said.
Susan smiled. Vincent felt her flirting with him.
“C’ mon on, let me show you around,” she said taking his hand and leading him outside to the patio.
Sophia entertained Spoon and Tyriq in the sunroom while dissecting and licking a Philly blunt. Tyriq handed her a phat dime bag and she went to work twisting it.
These bitches had it made, Vincent thought as he stared at the pool wishing he could live like this. They had money in the bank, a Benz in the driveway and a phat ass crib. Going to college in September to study computers and accounting seemed like a dumb move. He blanked out the thought of his new job at Burger King.
“So, are you a hustler like Spoon and Tyriq?” Susan asked.
She moved closer to him and gazed into his eyes. Her feet were perfectly pedicured and her D cups looked like they were about to jump out of her bikini top. Her long blond hair blew stylishly in the wind.
“Nah, we came up together. They’ve