A Pimp In Pumps (3 page)

*  *  *

              The next morning, I was in Kamal’s black Honda Accord with him and we were headed to my father’s sister’s house. I’d always been close to my Aunt Monica and I’d been staying with her ever since my father’s arrest. When her number popped up on my cell phone’s screen I wasn’t surprised. I flipped my silver Motorola Razer open to answer her call. She must’ve been checking up on me.

              “I’m good Auntie…”

              “I know, but your daddy’s on the phone.”

              I gulped. “Oh, okay. Hey daddy.”

              “Hey baby girl. How was prom?”

              “It was fun.” That was all I said. He didn’t need to know about anything else.

              “Well, I’m gonna take the plea. I just wanted you to know that.”

              “Y’en going to trial? But…”

              “If I go to trial I can get twelve years. If I take the plea I’ll get five. I gotta do what I gotta do baby girl. Aunt Mo’s gonna look out for you and you already know that locked down or not, you’re gonna be taken care of. You’re strong baby girl and you’re way past your years.” He cleared his throat. “Let me holla at Kamal real quick.”

              I didn’t say a word as the hot tears streamed down my face. Damn, all I felt was numb. Now my father was being torn away from me too. When I passed the phone to Kamal he gave me a puzzled look.

              “He wants to talk to you.”

              He took the phone and put it to his ear. I didn’t even know what my father was saying, but I could tell from Kamal’s response that he was promising him that he would take care of me.

              “I got her A. You got my word. I love your daughter more than anything and I’ll never leave her side.” There was a long pause. “That’s my good word and if I don’t keep it you can do what you feel necessary.”

              I hope he didn’t take my father’s threat lightly. Although I didn’t hear it for myself, I could pretty much tell from what Kamal had said that my pops had threatened his life. With the way I was feeling I had to have faith in something, or I would fall apart. My father would be gone for five years, but that wasn’t that long. By the time he got out he wouldn’t be too old. I trusted Kamal, so I put my life in his hands. There was no way that he’d ever betray me, because our love was real...and rare.

Chapter 2

Jordan rushed right over after I filled her in on what my father had told me. Finally, we could talk without everybody else around. When she walked through the door of my Aunt Mo’s house, the tears started. She enveloped me in her arms and held on to me. We’d been close since kindergarten, so she was there when my mother was killed. Honestly, when I thought about it, she’d been there for me through everything.

              “I’m so sorry Sasha’.” She was crying too and it was proof that she loved me just as much as I loved her.

              It was like we were so close that we could actually feel each other’s pain.

              My Aunt sauntered into the room with a solemn look on her face.

              “Hey Jordan. I’m glad you could be here for her. I have to go to work, but I’ll be back in a little bit.”

              “Anytime Aunt Mo,” she said.

              “Bye Auntie,” I chimed in as I watched her leave.

              Despite being raised in the hood around pimps, hoes, addicts, and drug dealers, my Aunt Mo managed to get a college degree from Spellman and had a career in Human Resources for Delta Airlines at the Hartfield-Jackson Airport. I was determined to follow in her footsteps. She had always told me that it was up to us to break the cycle. At the age of thirty-two she had a thirteen-year-old son named Jeremiah and was divorced.

              “Thank you for comin’,” I said as I wiped my eyes.

              “Of course girl.” She pulled a baggie of weed from her pocket. “I know you need to smoke.”

              I wanted to tell her that I had got some weed from Kamal being that he sold a little trees on the side, but I didn’t. Yeah, he played ball, but he needed his side hustle. His father, who still lived in Baltimore, had never really been there for him. His mother worked as a CNA, so she didn’t make a lot of money. With a younger sister and brother, he used his side hustle to help his family. I thought it was admirable, because he said that he didn’t plan to do that shit forever. His big dream was to play in the NBA, but if that didn’t work out he had a plan B. He was good as hell in math, so he wanted to major in engineering.

              “You already know.” Then I thought about my cousin Jeremiah.

              He was more than likely in his room playing video games.

              Jordan retrieved an unrolled blunt from her purse.

              “Uh, let’s go outside,” I said before she could even start the process. “Just in case.”

              “Oh shit. We ain’t at yo’ crib,” she agreed with a nod.

              My pops didn’t mind us smoking. He said it was cool with him as long as I was at home and not in the streets doing it. That way he could monitor me. Most of the time he wasn’t even there, so it didn’t even matter. If my Aunt Mo found out I was smoking inside her house all hell would break loose. I was old enough to stay at my own house by myself, but after the FEDS ransacked it, I didn’t want to go back there.

              My best friend followed me out of the back door and we sat down at the patio table. It was quiet as hell as she twisted the blunt up.

              Then she started talking. “Where’s Kamal?”

              I shrugged my shoulders. “We haven’t talked since he left. He just sent me a text askin’ if I wanted him to come back, but I told him that I’m chillin’ wit’ you.”

              She nodded. “You wanna go get something to eat later. We can meet the girls somewhere. Then you can chill wit’ your boo after that. Maybe you need a little girl time.”

              I sighed. “I ain’t hungry.”

              Jordan laughed as she lit the blunt. “Girl bye. You gon’ be hungry as hell after you smoke this shit.”

*  * *

              Just like she said, I had the munchies like a mufucka when that blunt was gone. We decided to meet Cherie, Bells and Nadia at The Movie Tavern on LaVista Rd. in Tucker, GA. That way we could eat and watch a movie. It was Cherie’s idea. She felt like a funny movie would get my mind off things for a little while, so we decided on Scary Movie 4. Little did she know, but my mind wasn’t easily distracted. What was going on with my pops was all that I could think about. As much as I tried to play it off, it was obvious that my thoughts were elsewhere.

              “Sasha, did you hear me?” Nadia’s voice broke through them.

              “Huh? What?” I asked finally snapping back into the moment.

              “I was askin’ you what you want to eat. It’s my treat,” she said giving me a sympathetic look.

              “A ten piece hot wings and fries. Thanks boo.”

              “You’re welcome boo. Anytime…” As she looked behind me her voice trailed off. “Oh shit…”

              “What?” I was confused.

              Me, Jordan, Cherie and Bells looked back at the same time. My number one enemy for as long as I could remember was standing there right behind me in line. That bitch was the reason I didn’t make it to prom the year before. Her name was Brielle and she was a pain in my ass cheek. It was like she wanted to be me so bad, so she wanted every man that was connected to me. When she called herself flirting with Kamal in front of me, I had to show her that it was only one me. I was a winner and I won each and every fight. Still, it didn’t stop her from coming at me over and over again. That bitch was determined to keep trying until she won. I hoped she knew that shit would never happen.

              “That bitch.” My voice was loud and clear enough for her to hear me.

              She was with this other chick I couldn’t stand named Amika. She was loud, and obnoxious with buck teeth. The only reason she got any play from the niggas at school was because she loved to suck dick. That was probably why her teeth were like that.

              “What you just say ‘bout yo’ boo Bri?” Amika asked like she wanted everybody to hear.

              I rolled my eyes knowing those hoes were trying to start some shit. That chick didn’t have a nigga that I knew of. She better not have been talking about Kamal.

              My wings had just come up and I was ready to eat something. Damn, they smelled good. As I grabbed some napkins, I overheard the conversation between Amika and Brielle.

              “He wasn’t tryna let me leave him girl. He loves this good shit. It’s a’ight, cuz I love my bae.”

              “And Mal loves you too girl. Those other hoes don’t matter…”

              The hunger that I felt before was replaced by anger as I hauled off and smashed my hot wings in Brielle’s face. I knew that the sauce would burn her eyes and she couldn’t do shit as I pounded her in the head over and over again with my fists. It was like I had blanked out and all I wanted to do was seriously hurt that bitch. As I kicked her in the face while she laid on the floor with her hands blocking the blows, I didn’t care. The sight of blood gushing from her nose and lips made me feel better. That shit felt so good, but it was over as soon as security pulled me off of her.

*  *  *

              “Young lady? What’s your name?” A uniformed guard asked me.

              I was sitting in the office with my girls. The other bitches must’ve been questioned elsewhere.

              “Sasha Sims.” My stubbornness showed as I sat there with my face all balled up.

              Little did I know, but my girls decided to get a few kicks in on Brielle too before beating Amika’s ass. She’d instigated the whole fight anyways. I hated both of them and I’d be glad when I graduated so I could leave Atlanta. Those hoes thought that my father being behind bars made me vulnerable, but it didn’t. I was the same old chick who had beat Brielle’s ass before and I’d keep on doing it until the hoe left me and my man alone.

              “You know you are going to jail right?” He asked.

              “I don’t give a fuck,” I hissed angrily. “My pops is in jail and I’m tryna be just like him.”

              “Where’s your mama?” His eyes were on me.

              I stared back at him. “She’s dead…like that bitch needs to be.”

              Dude looked at me and his face turned beet red. He was a short, white cop who resembled the rapper Eminem. It took everything in me not to ask him to bust a freestyle.

              “Are you makin’ threats?” His teeth were clenched as his eyebrows furrowed together.

              “No, I’m not. I’m just sayin’.”

              Jordan stared at me and her eyes were pleading for me not to get us in any more trouble.

              “Can I speak up sir?” Jordan’s eyes were glistening with fresh tears. “She lost her mother and now her father’s in jail. Please, just let her go. She’s goin’ through a lot and that bi…chick started it with us.”

              He bit his bottom lip as he looked down at a clip board. “It’s not that easy. You all are on camera and...”

              “Well,” Nadia stood up and shoved her big ass tits in his face. “What can I do to make the video disappear?”

              He was a white boy, so I was sure he liked that shit.

              “Uh,” he looked at us nervously, but we pretended to not be paying them any mind. “There’s nothing you can do.”

              She grabbed his crotch and then dropped down to her knees. “I’m sure we can come up with something. Just get rid of the video.”

              Oh shit, Nadia was about to suck his dick for our freedom. Now, that’s what you called a ride or die bitch. Besides, she was the only one who was already eighteen. She was held back in the fourth grade. Dude nodded.

              “Ya’ll can leave!” He barked at us.

              We rushed out of the office and headed outside of the movie theater. About fifteen minutes later Nadia met us at my gold Chrysler 300.