Harlem Girl Lost (15 page)

Silver had developed a habit of walking with her head down, shamed by the way she looked, but in the tenth grade, Missy, who still attended the same school as Silver, convinced her to stop by her house in the St. Nicholas project. Every morning she'd change into clothes loaned by Missy before going to school.

Now in her final year of high school, Silver was one of the top students in the city and she anticipated receiving a full scholarship to college—one that was as far away as possible from her grandmother. She had dreamed about this moment for years, and in a matter of four short months, she would be free forever. At night, Silver thought about her mother, but as
the years passed she seemed more and more like a distant memory. And then there was Chance. There wasn't a single day that she didn't think about him, but since that fateful day five years ago, she hadn't seen or heard from him.

For the past two weeks
, Silver and Missy had been discussing their prom, but under no circumstances would Silver's grandmother allow her to attend. She told Silver that all she would do was open up her legs to any nappy-headed nigger and get pregnant. Silver knew that when her grandmother said no, it meant no. In fact, the entire five years Silver had lived with her, she hadn't been allowed to go to the movies or anyplace else by herself. But Silver didn't care at this point. She knew that if she stayed home, she would regret this one crowning moment of a lifetime. Besides, she felt it was her right to attend the prom— she'd earned it. And she was determined to go … somehow.

She was changing her clothes at Missy's house. Missy was smoking a fat blunt and grooving to some LL Cool J. Missy had also grown into a beautiful and sexy young lady, and was even more appealing and irresistible because she stayed dipped with all the latest fashions, compliments of her many hustling boyfriends.

“Yo, you see how diesel that nigger LL is getting lately? And the way he always licking his fucking lips? Now you know that nigger can suck a mean pussy!”

“Yeah, but you will never find out ‘cause I hear he's happily married,” Silver said.

“That don't mean shit! All them rapping niggers are fucking like it's Fuck Fest 2000.”

Silver frowned. “That's why I would never mess with no entertainer, and that includes ballplayers or drug dealers, ‘cause they have too many girls sweating and hawking them. You would always have to wonder if they out screwing. Naw, not me.”

“Bitch, you crazy! I would get with one of them rich motherfuckers in a second, ‘cause niggers gonna cheat anyway. I rather be with a rich cheating motherfucker, shopping and spending his loot while he's out boning some hoe, than being at home with a broke motherfucker who ain't got pot to piss in or a window to throw it out!”

“You're a fucking hoe.”

Missy started dancing freaky style. “Yeah, but I be a paid hoe, believe that shit!”

“One day you gonna wake up with ten kids by ten different baby daddies, running behind them for some milk and Pampers money.”

Missy paid Silver no mind and continued dancing. “You know I don't get down like that. Ain't no semen touching my insides. I make them niggas wrap up.”

Silver frowned. “But why you got to mess with so many dudes at one time? Don't you get tired of that shit?”

Missy popped her coochie to the beat. “You want to know why?”

Silver nodded. A new song came on with a heavy beat, and Missy began rapping.

“ ‘Cause I love to fuck niggas, all I do is fuck niggas, but when I fuck niggas, I'm like …fuck niggas!”

Silver shook her head and laughed. She waited for Missy to finish dressing. The process seemed to take hours as she
smoked and talked mad shit. Silver loved these moments because their worlds were like night and day. She stayed hip and lived her teenage years through Missy's eyes. Missy was a hip-hop head and had every hip-hop publication, including
The Source, XXL, Don Diva
, and
VIBE.

Silver continued to flip through one of the magazines. “Uhh, look at these girls in here. They ain't wearing nothing but strings up their asses.” Missy took a look and saw what Silver was pointing at—the photo of a girl with very large buttocks posing with some rappers.

“Chickens,” Missy said dismissively “Only reason them bitches are in the magazine in the first place is because they get those birth control shots to make their asses fatter!”

Silver grew perplexed. “Get the hell out of here. You serious?”

“Hell yeah, girl. Remember Rasheeda from 114th Street and how she had a white-girl ass?”

Silver nodded.

“Well, how you think she blew up like that? The bitch been getting shots since the ninth grade, and now she got a dooky ass.”

Silver was surprised. “So is that why your ass is so fat?”

Missy threw her a strained look as she took a pull from her blunt. “Bitch, please.” She blew out the smoke. “I got my butt the old-fashioned way—I let a nigga fuck me in the ass.”

Silver frowned. “You are so fuckin’ nasty.”

Missy smiled. “Yo, that shit works, yo. It hurts like a mother-fucka, but it's worth it.” This was vintage Missy, and most people would never know if she was joking or for real. But Silver knew Missy was the kind to be about it, not talk about it.

Silver frowned as Missy took another pull from the blunt and offered it to her. “Bitch, don't even try to play me.”

“What?” Missy demanded.

“You know goddamn well I don't fuck with that shit,” Silver said. “You need to stop fucking with that shit too before you graduate to some other shit you can't come off of.”

“You could kill that shit. The only thing I'm ever gonna fuck with is weed or some fucking yac.”

Silver frowned as she watched Missy smoke the blunt. “Why you smoke so much anyway?”

Missy plopped into an armchair and spoke matter-of-factly “ ‘Cause it takes away stress and shit. You need that shit to function around this house. All these motherfuckers in this house are starting to get on my nerves. It's already crowded enough, and my moms fuckin’ moves her boyfriend up in this small bitch. And the nigger ain't shit either. He just came home from up north after being locked down for three years and don't do shit but lay up all day and argue with my moms. If he ain't doing that, he's tryin’ ta look up my ass—my moms is real stupid. So I smoke to tune all these motherfuckers out. Shit, you talking about me? This is what your stiff ass need. Stop being so stuck up all the time.”

“Friends and relatives,” Silver said, remembering what her mother had told her years ago.

Missy had heard this from Silver her whole life, but it never stopped her from testing her. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, friends and relatives,” Missy said. “I know what your mother said, but this is only weed. It's from the earth, put here for us to relax, so chill the fuck out. You almost grown now.”

Silver put down the magazine she was reading and grabbed
her book bag. “Naw, that's all right. I'm like Nancy Reagan—I just say …” She sidled behind Missy, bent down, and screamed in her ear, “Hell, no!” She ran out of her room smiling.

Missy, holding her ear, shouted back, “Oh, no, you didn't, bitch!” She grabbed her school bag and ran after her.

On their way to school, boys, men and even women tried to rap to them. They simply stood out like two runway models, the streets being their stage. Their natural beauty shone easily, but wearing their Lil’ Kim–esque gear, they epitomized ghetto superstardom, and they acted the part by not giving anybody the time of day. Students in their high school had nicknamed them Salt and Pepper, Silver being the salt and Missy, of course, being the pepper.

“Yo, guess what.” Silver said slyly.

“What?” Missy asked.

“I made up my mind—I'm going to the prom!”

Surprised, Missy stopped in her tracks. “Stop playing. Your grandmother said you could go?”

Silver smiled. “Nope, but I'm going anyway.”

Missy gave her a pound. “That's right, girl—go for yours! You deserve it! I mean, how the hell your grandmother gonna stop you from going to your own prom, anyway? You bust your ass for four years—four hard fuckin’ years at that! Shoot, plus you the valedictorian, and she thank you by saying you can't go to your own prom. Fuck that shit. You doing right, girl.” Missy shook her head. “I'm glad my grandmother ain't like yours.”

Silver laughed. “Nobody's grandmother is like yours.”

Missy frowned. “How's that?”

“Missy, what grandmother you know smoke trees with their daughter and granddaughter?”

Missy was not impressed. “What grandparent doesn't? My nana is no different from anybody else's in the projects.”

Silver was surprised by Missy's nonchalant outlook, and laughed. “Oh, my God! How ‘bout the time you caught your grandmother fucking your boyfriend?”

Still not impressed, Missy shrugged. “At least she kept that shit in the family.”

Silver was amazed at Missy's cavalier attitude. “That's fucked up!”

Missy enjoyed grossing Silver out and shrugged again. “That ain't shit. I heard she fuck my daddy, too, back in the day. Shit, she's only forty-four and she still look good, so what you expect?”

Silver's mouth opened in shock. “You lying?”

“Nope. I heard she had that nigger fiending, too!”

Silver waved her off. “Stop! I don't want to hear any more.” But Missy loved it.

“Anyway,” Missy said, moving on to another subject, “how you gonna get out to go to the prom?”

“I'm gonna wait until she get nice and drunk, and then I'm gonna sneak out when she falls asleep.”

“Sounds like a motherfuckin’ plan to me. But what if she wakes up?”

“The prom is on Friday, right?”

“Right.”

“Well, Fridays is her main night that she get blitzed, and she'll get so fucked up that she will sleep through the entire night.”

“I hear that shit. It's on now—my girl is coming! Ooh, we
gonna walk up in there like what! Them niggers ain't gonna understand it! But what are you gonna wear?”

“I made a dress, and the shit is the bomb, too. I took one of Grandma's old dresses, shortened it and redid it to fit me, and voilà! All those years of sewing her clothes finally paid off.”

“Damn, you been scheming on this shit for a while, huh?”

“Hell, yeah. I deserve this shit.”

“You damn skippy you deserve it.”

“But there's only one problem.”

Missy stopped in her tracks. “What now?”

“I don't have a date.”

“Bitch, you can have any nigger you want to take you to the prom!”

“Yeah, but the prom is tomorrow and everybody is already locked up with a date.”

Missy thought about the dilemma for a moment. “We just go together!”

Silver stared at her. “But what's up with Justice?”

Missy shrugged. “What about him? Yo, I like Justice, but you are my motherfuckin’ girl, yo! That's what's up!”

Silver again realized just how much of a true friend Missy really was. “You sure, Missy? ‘Cause I can go by myself.”

“Look, that spigger is just gonna have to handle that shit.”

“What the fuck is a spigger?”

“Oh, Justice is half black and half Spanish, so that makes him a cross between a spic and a nigger. Spigger, get it?”

They both laughed at her pun.

“Besides,” Missy continued, “he's gonna get some pussy after the prom, and that's all them niggers are worrying about
anyway. The spig will pick us up in a limousine from my house and we gonna do our thing from there on. Besides, that nigger is gonna get mad props stepping out the limousine with both our gorgeous asses.” Missy extended her fist. “You down, bitch?”

Silver smiled and tapped it with her own fist. “I'm down, hoe!”

“We finally graduating,” Missy said. “Yo, I can't believe that shit. I ain't never gonna sit in nobody's classroom ever again. I'm just gonna find some rich-ass Rico Suave nigger and let him take care of me for the rest of my life.”

“Why you always fucking with them Spanish guys?”

“ ‘Cause they ain't afraid to eat no pussy!” When Silver laughed, Missy protested, “You think I'm lying? Them Spanish niggers ain't afraid to go scuba diving on you. Shit, you don't even have to ask them, either. They like …” Missy held her nose and simulated someone going underwater.

Silver laughed even harder. “So what you saying—you just stop fucking black niggers all together?”

“Hell no, bitch,” Missy snapped. “I love myself some Shaka Zulu dick just as much as the next bitch, but it's just sometimes I feel like a lick, and sometimes I feel like a stick. These niggers out here act like they too good to give a bitch mouth-to-mouth resuscitation on the pussaaaay!” Silver nearly died laughing, but Missy continued. “For real, though—my rule is ‘no licky, no sticky’ “

“You are one crazy hoe.”

“Yeah, I'll be a crazy hoe, but at least I'm getting some, unlike some people I know.”

Silver smiled again. “I'm saving myself.”

“I don't know why. Give me one good reason.”

“I'll give you three. One, I don't want to get pregnant. Two, there are too many diseases out there. Three, I'm waiting until I get married.”

“Married? To who, bitch … Chance?”

Silver grew silent, and when she didn't respond, Missy stared at her.

“Oh, shit, don't tell me you still stuck on that nigger? Yo, I'm sorry to bust your bubble, but he's probably still locked up doing life or something!”

Silver remained silent.

“Besides, you ain't seen or heard from Chance in what, five, six years? For all you know that nigger could be—”

“Just forget about it,” Silver snapped.

Missy frowned. “Damn, Silver, I'm sorry, I didn't know you still had feelings like that for him.” She quickly changed the subject. “Yo, you know I got an audition downtown next week.”

“You didn't tell me about no audition.”

“Yes I did, I told you they had open call for dancers for this new off-Broadway show.”

Silver smiled, genuinely happy for her friend. “Go, girl! I'm happy for you, I wish you luck.”

“Fuck that. I ain't gonna need no luck—it's all skill, baby, ‘cause you know none of them bitches can work it like me.” Missy did a little dance combination to prove her point.