wish I could. Street hasn’t hit me up all day. Is he around there?” I was kinda hoping Imani would say no, but she didn’t.
“I think so, but he was on the porch with Pete Rock and Dantez when I walked past from school.”
“There weren’t any girls over there, were there?”
“Girl, bye! You know I was not looking that hard.” She was not lying. Of her, Nikola, and me, she was the shy and timid one. Nikola always joked and said Imani only kept us around so the neighborhood hoes did not tear off into her ass.
“Okay, well, hit me up if you see him up in a trick’s face.” I started rushing her off the phone so I could get dressed before my momma barged into my room on some more bullshit.
Even though Imani was nervous around boys, she did not mind dropping a dime on Street. If Street did something in her eyesight, Imani was telling it in detail. I had caught that nigga up in about ten lies this month alone based on her recall/retell of the situation. I had come to the conclusion that Street was going to be Street, and that simply meant he was going to do what he wanted to do.
It didn’t take me long to jump fresh. I kept it cute and simple in a pair of ripped jeans, a white tee, and boat shoes. My outfit matched the weather perfectly, plus it was fly enough to rock just in case I got back in time to go on the block. I could barely get dressed from Imani blowing my phone up over and over again with picture mail and messages. Super salty over how live it looked around her way, I temporarily sent all her calls to my block box to keep myself out of my feelings. Graduation and my birthday weren’t coming quickly enough.
Trinity swore she would only be five minutes, but of course, it had been double that by the time I was done getting dressed. I opened my Kindle application to pass the time. I’d been reading urban fiction ever since I saw a social media post on a blog site hyping up a few titles. After reading one story about chicks from the hood, I was hooked. If I went to school more often, not clowned while I was there, and grasped English, I’d have been a shoo-in to write a novel. Without a doubt, I was sure my story about how I grew up would sell millions. I’d been through just as much drama as many of the characters I had read about, if not more.
Even though the book was hella good, I couldn’t get into it because my mind was too wrapped up thinking about how I was going to spend the money my dad gave me. He’d filled my hand with bills to spend at the mall as a pre-gift for my birthday. I was happy to have the extra chicken, but he better be coming with more when the actual day arrived. I didn’t care that I was running around here, screaming grown. He and Trinity better have at least a parting gift for their only daughter.
After I got deep into a juicy chapter, Trinity stepped out the door, dressed to impress. Unlike a lot of the raggedy, no-style-having mammies around here who wore pajamas all day, mine was a true diva. Everyone on the outside looking in could tell she had money.
After putting her red cup of juice and alcohol into the cup holder, she tossed her oversized purse into the back seat. Calvin must have broken her off with way more money than me. I wasn’t hating, though. I was happy to have what I had. Plus, I knew Trinity wasn’t going to take me to the mall and not buy me something. I could say she was a lot of things, but selfish with her money was not one of them.
“I hope you’ve got your charger,” my mom said, plugging her phone in.
“Yup, it’s right here.” I dangled it, then buckled up in the passenger seat of her Ram truck. Trinity didn’t believe in tiny cars and even ran them off the road if they weren’t driving fast enough.
“All right, then let’s be out.” She threw the truck into reverse and backed out of the driveway with her favorite rap track bumping.
CHAPTER 3
TRINITY
Calvin and I weren’t your average married couple with a kid, not even for one that was rooted within one of the worst neighborhoods in Detroit, Michigan. But what made us stand out was what made us stick together. Calvin was my soul mate, and I was certain that I was his Bonnie, his better half, and the voice in his head when it was time to murk a muthafucka. I made Calvin crazier. In spite of how much we bumped heads, we always bounced back together. I was glad he’d come and piped me down before I left the house so I could kick it with my daughter. Getting dick always had a way of calming me down.
My only daughter sat across from me, looking over the menu. She had not said much in the car, and neither had I, probably because of the events earlier. I wasn’t gonna apologize, though. It was my job to keep my foot on her neck. I was from the school of hard knocks. Granny Ruby whipped my mom with a switch. My mom welted me up with belts. So I was following in line and continuing the tradition by two-piecing Porsha up when she disrespected me or attempted to. Wasn’t no kid getting ready to square up with me or even get fooled by their imagination thinking they could fuck with me. Benzie would soon learn about me.
The waitress came, and we both ordered entrée fajitas with extra meat, Sprites with light ice, and bowls of our own queso. Mexican food was our favorite. As much as she and I bumped heads, we could always bond over a good meal. The only thing I ordered that Porsha couldn’t was a Patrón margarita. I kept a drink to my lips. With me, there was never a line drawn or a limit set to say “that’s enough.” I didn’t think I could function without alcohol in my system.
“What stores are you trying to hit to spend that fat-ass knot your daddy gave you?” I questioned Porsha, trying to get her attention on me and off her phone.
“I don’t know. I’m probably gonna load up my RushCard and shop online. All of the boutiques around here that I know of have the same boring outfits at each one. What I might cop though are new gym shoes, a cell phone case, a purse or two, and another charm for my Pandora bracelet,” she responded like a spoiled brat.
I wasn’t hating, nor did I blame Porsha for her attitude. She got it honest and had been placed on a pedestal since birth. Calvin and I prided ourselves on giving Porsha what she wanted, Benzie too. Being stingy with dope money didn’t make sense.
“You’re lucky your parents sell dope. You should say thank you more often since we stay risking our lives to give you and Benzie the finer things in life. You see how them other kids be looking in the hood: rough, ratchet, and like li’l dirtballs. You got it good.” I was being honest.
She smacked her lips, then turned them up like something smelled bad. “You and daddy been selling dope way before me and Benzie were thought of, so don’t put y’all choice of careers off on us. We were born into the game.”
Right when I was getting ready to read Porsha again for having a smart-ass mouth, I laughed instead. She made the adage “the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree” seem alive, true, and well. Porsha wasn’t acting out. She was acting like me. If I wanted her to act differently, I’d be beating the traces of me out of her, if ya get what I mean.
After the waitress brought out our food and drinks, we dug in and enjoyed our lunch as mother and daughter. I might’ve not wanted to lighten up on her since she’d tried to get gully with me earlier. Still, I chalked her behavior up as karma and moved on. I might’ve not admitted it to Calvin, but I knew my bark was a little too vicious, and I didn’t want to push my Mini-Me away. In life, all we have is family. I might have had a funny way of showing it, but I’d lay my life on the line for all of mine, and I had. Once Porsha was grown with her own children or a family, she’d understand my stance and not keep a chip on her shoulder.
* * *
“Dang, Ma! You look fly as hell in that dress,” Porsha complimented me when I stepped out of the dressing room.
We were finished with lunch and now at the mall. She’d done all the shopping she’d planned on doing, so now I was trying to find the perfect outfit to wear to the cabaret tonight. That was why I’d forced Porsha to come with me in the first place, to help style me, as the young kids these days called it, on fleek. I might’ve been her momma, but I still was fine as fuck and stepping on the toes of any of her other friends’ momma’s without