Authors: Cynthia White
As soon as she got into my Navigator
,
she leaned over and gave me a soft kiss on the cheek. Her perfume filled the entire truck with the scent of roses and some other girly shit I couldn't figure out.
“You look nice
,
” Jazz
said with a
smile, putting those sexy
-
ass dimples on full display
,
“
b
ut then again
,
I knew you would.” She giggled as she close
d
the passenger side door
,
then proceeded to fasten her seatbelt.
I tried to take my eyes off her, but I couldn’t. A nigga had it
bad
. She was the first good thing to walk into my life in a long
-
ass time. I felt at ease with her. It was as if I
’
d known her for years instead of just a few short hours. I tried to hold back, tried to resist
-
but I couldn’t.
“Come here.” My hands went for my seatbelt before my brain had a chance to object. “I been wantin’ to do this all day.”
When I kissed her
,
I felt like I was kissing the lips of the chick I was meant to be with. She made me feel so alive. The fog that I
’
d been walking around in for the last few years was
suddenly
lifted
– and s
he felt it
,
to
o;
I could feel her passion as she rubbed my back and caressed my neck. Every time I tried to use restraint and pull away
,
she
’
d use that passion to pull me back i
n
. I knew it for certain then
: t
hat bitch was going to break my heart.
Chapter 6
“Girl, where the fuck you been?!” Jasmine’s mother
launched into
her as soon as the rims on my truck stopped spinning. “I ought to beat yo li
’
l hot ass!”
“Mama,” Jazz began to whisper
,
“I told you I had a date tonight.”
The embarrassment on her pretty face was just too much
;
I couldn’t even look at her. She was fighting like a champ to hold back the tears, but they were fighting her right back.
“A
d
ate!”
h
er mother shouted
right
into Jasmine's face
,
sending saliva flying all over the makeup job she told me
it
took her twenty minutes to perfect. “Did he pay you?”
Her mother’s eyes traveled from Jasmine‘s face to mine
, and t
he bitch
started
mean muggin’ me like she was another nigga and Jazz’s pussy belonged to her. I wanted to pop off at the mouth
, and i
t was damn near killing me not to
- an>
but I kept my composure and didn’t say a word. I simply returned her stare like any real man would have. She looked me in the eyes
,
so it was mostly out of respect that I looked her back in hers. I thought back to a conversation between my mother and my oldest sister. Monica was complaining about how none of the boys in The Cochran would talk to her because they were all scared of our mama. Mama told Monica that the only reason they were scared was
that
they didn’t mean her any good. That wasn’t the case with me and Jazz
;
I meant her more
good than I ever meant any broad before her. I spent the entire night trying to prove that to Jazz
,
and I wasn
’
t about to fuck with all that progress. It took every bit of strength I had, but I didn’t get ignorant with her mother. I played it cool. Jazz
,
on the other hand
,
was having none of it.
“Mama, please go in the house!” Jasmine finally let her voice be heard. “Please, mama?”
Jazz wasn’t too proud to beg
,
but she
was
too embarrassed to cry. All the neighbors were out
; t
he hood loves a free show. Not only was her mother drunk as hell, but she was also outside wearing a very sheer night gown with only a small pair of panties on underneath
; there were
titties everywhere. Her mother was a large woman but still very fine for her age. It was too bad she couldn’t see the beauty in herself the way Jazz could. While we were sitting in Applebee’s
,
waiting for our steaks to arrive
,
she went on and on about how much she loved and admired her mother. I couldn’t help
wondering
if she regrett
ed
telling me that or if she was just that good
-
hearted that it didn’t even matter.
“The rent
’
s due next week
,
so if you fucked that nigga you betta get yo money
,
”
h
er mother yelled at Jazz
. F
or some reason
,
she was still mean muggin’ me. I wasn’t too cool with being called a
‘
nigga
’
by some drunk
-
ass white bitch, but that white bitch was Jazz’s mother. She was also sick
; s
he was an alcoholic.
During dinner
,
Jasmine also revealed to me that her father
had
just filed for divorce and was living overseas with an Asian woman who was now seven months pregnant with his child. She hadn’t seen him since she was nine years
old. The closest thing she had to communication with him was the Christmas cards he sent her every year with no return address. Her moms lost her job a few months ago because of her excessive drinking. Ever since then
,
they’
d
been living off Jasmine
’
s hustles
; s
he learned a long time ago that her looks could get her
just about
anything she wanted. Niggas tricked off money, clothes, jewelry
,
and anything else of value
they had just
to get a piece of her
; s
he figured
she might as well get something out of the deal. I couldn’t knock her hustle
-
but there was no way any chick of mine was goe d mine wing to be turning tricks. I was too young to save my mother, but Jazz was another story.
“Mama, I know you hurtin’.” She took her mother’s hand and looked deep into her glassy eyes. “He hurt me
,
to
o
, but we all we got
...
and
...
and if you don’t stop this
...
you’re gonna lose me
,
to
o
.” Her voice broke with almost every word she spoke
.
When she finally stopped fighting them
,
the tears fell down her face hard and continuous. They even made their way down to her dress, leaving a wet stain pattern that almost looked like tiny footprints. I turned my head away in the opposite direction. I had to
; t
hat shit was killing me.
I drove away from
Jasmine’s
home that night with a whole new understanding of
her
. Once again in the hood
,
a childhood was cut short. At only fifteen
,
Jazz had to provide not only for herself but for her mother as well
– and t
he load was getting much too heavy for her to carry alone
; s
he was about to break. A blind man could see that. The
hard
question
s
I asked myself on the drive home w
ere:
Am I willing to let that go down? Am I just going to walk away, or am I going to be the kind of man that my mother and big sister would be proud of?
Chapter 7
I walked into my apartment and damn near didn’t recognize the place. Gina had scented candles burning, slow jam
s
playing on the stereo,
the
TV off
,
and li
’
l man was nowhere to be found. She
’
d cleaned every square inch
of the place
from top to bottom
, and
I could still smell the scents of bleach and Lysol lingering
in the air - along with
something else
: m
y stomach turned flips when it got a whiff of fried
c
hicken, baked macaroni and cheese, greens, candied yams, corn bread
,
and peach cobbler for dessert. Fuck everything else
; i
t was time to grub.
I ate three big
-
ass plates before I finally had to stop myself
; t
he shit was
that
good. I was starting to feel like a fat nigga. Gina could clown in the kitchen like nobody else.
I
f she applied herself
, t
hat girl could have been a chef at one of those high-priced restaurant
s
in the good part of town, but that was a big
“
if.
”
She liked kickin’ it too much to go to anybody’s school. I had tried to talk to her about it before, but she wasn’t trying to hear me. Later on
, though,
when I wanted to fuck
-
she heard a nigga loud and clear. I realized then that I couldn’t make her want better for herself. She was just fine with her life the way that it was, fucked all the way up.
After a meal like that
,
all
’
d never really had a girlfriend before
,
I really didn’t know how to handle the situation. Should I give her her space? Or was I supposed to comfort her? Talking on the phone really wasn’t my thing. If I had something to say
,
I liked to say it in person.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
“Boss
.
” Gina stuck her head inside my bedroom door. “You wanna smoke this blunt with me?”
“That even a question?” I joked
,
then waved her in. “Where you get some green?”
“From Kel
,
”
s
he revealed, once again using her sweet little cartoon voice
- which
wasn’t fooling anybody.
“You fuckin’ Kel now?”
She didn’t answer me
,
but her silence spoke volumes. All I could do was shake my head. Here she was living with me
-
a nigga with more green than anybody else on 21
st
S
treet
-
and she was fucking a nigga like Kel for sacs. She didn’t know how to do shit
,
and unfortunately she couldn’t be taught. That was the difference between a chick like Gina and a chick like Jasmine
:
Gina was who she was
,
and that was all she was ever going to be
; o
n the other hand
,
Jazz was who she was to
-
but she wanted more. I could work with a chick like that.
Gina came over and sat down next to me on my bed. I watched her split the blunt, dump the insides out in the trash can
,
then replace them with the weed she
’d
gave up her body for. A part of me felt like I shouldn’t even smoke it with her
;
I felt guilty
,
like I was the nigga taking pussy for weed. That wasn’t my type of hustle. I never paid for water
,
and I never paid for pussy. It had a lot to do with my mother being a prostitute, but it also had a lot to do with how pitiful the shit was. Niggas who bargained for pussy were weak. I might have still been a teenager living in an apartment that was paid for with drug money, but I wasn’t weak. Life never even offered me that option.
“Damn this some good shit
,
” Gina announced, having only hit the blunt twice and already half
-
blowed. “I felt so good
,
and so
...
so
...
so
...
you want a beer?” She lost her train of thought.
“Yeah, Gina.” I cracked the fuck up laughing. “You always do that shit when we get blowed.”
I took the blunt from her crazy ass and hit it hard. She was right
: t
he shit was some
fire
. I made a mental note to get at that nigga Kel and find out who he got his work from.
“Boss
.
” Gina stopped in the doorway and turned back around to face me. “I wanna make you happy.”
My mind didn’t even have to wonder
;
I knew exactly what she meant. My eyes were chinky from the green, but they still worked. I watched her hips sway while she walked to me. She moved extra slow on purpose
; i
t was like the opening scene of a good porno. Once she reached me
,
she fell down to her knees in front of me like I was king of the free world. I knew it was about to be fire.
“I’m
‘
bout to suck yo dick like it ain’t never been sucked before
,
” Gina bragged on her head and unbuckled my belt while looking me dead in the eyes.
Once she pulled my dick out
,
it was all over. She sucked and slobbed on my knob like it was the last one left on earth. Her mouth was so warm
,
I could have built a home in that muthafucka.
When s
he moved her tongue
around the head in a circular motion the exact
same
way her babydaddy had taught her to
- a
ny problems I had with that nigga flew right out the window. The girl was bad. For fifteen minutes
,
she worked me over, controlling me with nothing but her tongue. I couldn’t even front. By the time I grabbed a handful of her hair and exploded in her mouth
,
I was done for. After that fabulous head
,
I felt I owed it to her to break her off
, so
I dicked her down one good time
,
then smoked another blunt as she slept like a baby on the other side of my bed. That shit wasn’t supposed to happen. I cared about Gina, but only as a friend
-
and I knew if
she
continued to stay with me
,
she was going to end up gettin’ hurt.