Quan was the oldest of two. His mother had had him when she was only seventeen. From the beginning, as soon as the condom popped and he was exploded into the tunnel of his mother's young, fertile womb, Quan was destined to become a replica of his father. His father, Daniel Mitchell, met his mother, Nicky Ballwin, when they were teenagers. Danny was attracted to Nicky's sweet, quiet nature and wide hips. She was taken in by his handsome reddish-brown skin, hypnotizing eyes and mega-watt smile. Gullible to Danny's fast talk and slick lines, Nicky fell head over heels for his charming ways.
Little did she know, as soon as she spread her thick caramel thighs and he'd bust the nut that he'd so desperately wanted to drop, the love he'd promised would soon fade.
Danny was pissed when he learned that Nicky was three weeks pregnant with his baby and planning on keeping it.
He didn't want any kids, and he certainly didn't want to be tied down for the rest of his life. Even though he had these feelings, Danny was raised to handle his responsibilities, so he did what he thought was right at the time and married Nicky.
Four years and one more child later, Quan's parents were trying their best to make good of a fucked up situation. When his parents weren't cussing and fighting, his mother was up in her room crying her eyes out while his father was out in the streets pretending to be the bachelor he wasn't.
By the time Quan was thirteen, his father had given up on being a family man and moved out of state. The day before his father left, he and his mother had had a heated argument.
"I'm so sick of yo' naggin' ass! I wish I never met you! You ruined my fuckin' life! All you do is whine and complain! Ain't nothing ever good enough for you!" Danny shouted.
"You damn right, and I hate you, too! Talkin' about I ruined your life! Look around Danny, you ruined mine! But that's alright 'cause you ain't never gon' be shit wit yo' trifling ass!"
"You know what, fuck you! I'm sick of this shit!" he yelled, grabbing his coat.
"Go 'head, run like you always do, you no good sack of shit! Take a dump wherever you please and then just walk away!" Nicky screamed.
The next day, Danny was gone. He didn't even bother to write a note or say goodbye. He simply packed his bags and caught the next Greyhound bus out of town. Nicky was distraught. She almost had a nervous breakdown. She didn't know how she was going to raise two kids alone on a maid's salary.
Forced to help his mother make ends meet, Quan hit the streets. He started off selling dime bags of weed. After that he graduated to rocks. Six months later, he was pushing Ozs. Life was good. His mother didn't have to work as hard, his pockets stayed fat and he could have any chick. The more Quan's pop-ularity in the streets began to rise, the more he began to see Mo in a different light.
Once she went through her preteen years, her body went through dramatic changes. Mo went from being a smart-mouth skinny girl to being a fully developed young woman.
Her titties and ass sprouted, and she began to sport more tight-fitting clothes. Quan, being the alpha male he was, took notice.
Mo had just finished getting her hair done and was feeling
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right. It was a Saturday afternoon so a bunch of niggas was standing outside of LeRoy's barber shop just down from the beauty salon. Mo got much play as she sauntered her way past the clique full of dudes talking shit and shooting dice. Men being men, a couple of them tried to step to her but Mo wasn't having it.
She wasn't stuntin' none of the ass. That was, until Quan stepped up to the plate. He had seen her go in but couldn't think of anything to say. She was young, but for some reason she made him nervous.
Maybe it was the confident way she licked her lips when she looked his way, or sauntered past him and his boys like they were mere peons that had him shook. Whatever it was, Quan had to have her. He was tired of watching her from afar like a lil' bitch, so he promised himself that the next time he saw her, he was gonna step to her like a man. He had to make her see that with him was where she needed to be.
"Ay, Mo, let me holla at you for a second?" he asked confidently.
"Nah, sorry, I'm kind of in a rush." She smiled and kept it moving.
"Told you you couldn't pull her," West teased.
"Nigga please, watch this," Quan challenged. He never took no for an answer. Taking off in a light jog, he caught up with Mo down the street.
"Damn girl ... you walk fast. What, you thought I was gon' bite?" he said with a sly grin on his face.
"Nah, you just gotta learn how to keep up." She grinned, too, admiring his blemish-free honey-brown skin and bright smile.
"Is that right?"
"Yeah."
"Where you headed?"
"Home."
"I know yo' prissy ass ain't about to catch no bus home.
Where yo' brother at?"
"You're right, I'm not about to catch the bus. I'm waiting on my cab to come."
"Nah, you ain't gotta do that. I'ma take you home."
"No you're not. I don't know you like that." She laughed, looking at him like he was crazy.
"What you mean you don't know me like that? I kick it wit yo' brother almost every day."
"Exactly, you kick it wit my brother, not me. The only thing we've ever said to each other is 'hi' and 'bye'."
"You mean to tell me you would rather catch a cab than for me to take you home?"
Taking a moment to think, Mo contemplated her choices.
It was either A) take a ride in a stuffy, infected cab where she would have to pay or B) get a ride home for free. Of course her choice was B.
"Okay, you can take me home, but first, what's your real name, and don't give me your street corner nickname either.
I want what's stated on your birth certificate." Laughing at her forwardness, he replied, "It's Jayquan."
"Jayquan what?"
"Jayquan Mitchell, sweetheart."
"And what's your social security number?"
"Yo, you buggin." He laughed some more, thinking she was playing. Seeing that she wasn't he asked, "You for real?"
"Does it look like I'm playin'? I'm dead serious. I gotta have some kind of information on you in case you try something slick."
Liking her strong will, Quan turned his face to the side and massaged his jaws. He was hoping like hell that shorty was worth it and that he wasn't playing himself out like a chump.
"Maaan ... I swear if I wasn't feelin' you ... a'ight check it, it's 678--"
"Stop! Stop! Stop! I'm just playin!" Mo burst out laughing.
With a surprised look on his face, Quan could only shake his head and smile that crooked grin Mo swore she could grow to love.
"You wild."
"I'm sorry. It was just way too easy. I can't believe you was gon' actually give it to me though."
"I can't believe my dumb ass was about to, too."
"I'm sorry."
"Are you done giving me a hard time so I can take you home?"
"Yeah, I am."
"Come on then." He took her hand and led her over to a red and black 5.0 Mustang convertible.
"Thank you. You didn't have to do this," she said as he opened her door and she got in.
"No problem, lil' mama. Do you mind if I smoke?" he asked, pulling off.
"You cool. This is your car, right?"
"Yeah it is," he lied. Quan was really riding around in a basehead's car.
"I'm just showing you some respect, though. You might not want to smell like weed smoke."
"Oh ... thanks for being so considerate." She blushed, gazing out the window.
Looking over at her, Quan couldn't help but smile, too. He really didn't know what he was doing riding around with his man's lil' sister, but it was something very alluring about her that drew him to her. Mo was the shit. He had to have her.
"Ay, I always wondered ..."
"Wondered what?" Mo cut him off.
"Why yo' county-bound ass come all the way down here to the hood to get yo' hair done."
"You know it ain't no black hair salons out in Ladue."
"That is true. You got me. So you was gon' catch a cab all the way from Pine Lawn to Ladue?"
"Yeah." Mo shrugged her shoulders as if it was nothing.
"Cam said y'all parents had dough, but goddamn." Caught off guard by the mention of her parents, Mo became quiet and her body tightened up. Up until that point, she had been doing a pretty good job of not thinking about her mother. Quan sensed the tension in her and instantly became worried that he'd offended her.
"Yo, my bad, I forgot."
"It's cool," Mo whispered, trying her best to choke back the tears.
For a minute neither of them could think of a thing to say.
The atmosphere surrounding them was so thick and filled with uncomfortable silence. He didn't understand why, but at that moment, Quan wanted to take all of the pain that absorbed her heart and melt it all away. He wanted - no, needed - to see her smile again, so he gently placed his hand on top of Mo's. She seemed not to mind, because as soon as their skin touched, she began to loosen up.
"So Quan, tell me a little bit about yo'self?" she asked, pulling it back together.
"What you wanna know, shorty?"
"Do you give a lot of girls rides home?"
"Nope. You're special."
"Oh, really."
"Yeah, now tell me a little bit about you."
"What do you wanna know?"
"For starters, if you ain't got no man, then what do you
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have?"
"I have friends."
"Oh, and what do you consider friends?" Quan asked, taking a hit off the blunt.
"When I say friends, I mean people I kick it with and talk on the phone to. Nothing more. I don't get down like that, if that's what you're hinting around to."
"Now look at you. I wasn't even thinkin' about that."
"Yeah, right." They both laughed.
"But nah, for real. You bad, lil' mama. I'ma have to make you my lil' girlfriend."
"Is that right?"
"Yeah, you fine as hell, and it seem like you got a good head on your shoulders, plus I can almost bet you a virgin."
"How you figure that?"
"'Cause ... you still got an innocence about you that most females these days don't have. It's in your eyes. Remember, a person eyes say a lot about them."
"I'll remember that, now if you don't mind me askin', how old are you?" He looked like he was in his twenties, but she wasn't sure.
"Eighteen. How old are you?"
"Fifteen, but I'll be sixteen in a month," Mo responded eagerly.
"So what's up, you gon' give me your number or what?" he asked as they pulled up to her house.
"I got you," she replied, taking a pen out of her Coach purse. "You got any paper, all I got is a pen?"
"Nah, all I got in my pockets is blunts and money, baby," he answered, going into his pockets and showing her.
"Niggas." Mo shook her head. "Well, here." She took a hundred dollar bill and wrote her phone number on to it.
"Give me a call."
"I got you. As a matter of fact, I'ma call you tonight."
"You do that," she said, smirking as she got out.
Two weeks and three phone conversations later, Quan was past intrigued. He was straight up infatuated with Mo. She was proving to be more of a challenge than he expected. Most girls would clamor at the chance to get some attention from him, but not Mo. Every chance she got, she played him to the left.
Tired of playing games with her, he decided to surprise her with a visit. It was a Saturday afternoon and Quan was sure that he would catch her at the salon. As soon as he walked in, he spotted her. Mo was under the dryer with a textbook and notebook in her lap, studying. She was so engrossed in her work that she didn't even notice him approaching.
All of the other women in the shop noticed him, though.
Every last one of them was holding her breath hoping and praying that he was there to make her day a little brighter. But Quan wasn't stuntin' none of them. His mind was only on Mo.
He was gonna make her his, no matter what.
She was just about to turn the page in her textbook when suddenly the potent smell of flowers hit her nose. Following the scent, Mo looked up and was pleasantly surprised to find Quan standing before her with a dozen pink tulips in hand.
Automatically, her face brightened with a smile. The man looked good enough to eat in a Nautica T-shirt, creased jeans and white leather classic Reeboks. His hair was braided to the back and a Turkish chain with a Q pendant swung from his neck.
"He-he-hey, Quan," she stuttered as she lifted the top up on the dryer.
"What you stuttering for? You must know you in trouble."
"What? What I do?" Mo pretended, playing dumb.