This one? This one was a damsel in distress, and there was nothing dangerous about Solana except that she was trying to croak out on a nigga. I didn’t want to take shit from Solana. If anything, I wanted to give her ass whatever she needed to beat this shit and live her pretty life outside of this makeshift jail my big cousins had made.
My phone rang in my pocket, and I already had a feeling who it was. Retrieving it with Solana’s wet neck still resting on my arm and knees still planted in her throw up, I slid my thumb across the screen and answered.
“Wassup, Big Cuz?”
Using my shoulder to hold the phone to my ear, I continued tapping her face. She was in and out of it, and I was trying to think what I could do to get her more coherent.
“She… She breathing, right?” Shio’s deep-ass voice boomed into my ear.
“Yeah. She’s breathing… Solana?”
“Hmmm?” Her eyes shut close, and then she clenched her stomach.
I could hear Shio sigh with relief at hearing her voice.
“Solana…” I called out to her again.
“E… Es… Estoy bien… Solo duele… Estoy bien,” she said groggily.
“Hunh?” I asked, not knowing what the hell she was saying, but she was talking so that was good enough for me.
When Big Cuz whispered, “English, baby,” I tuned back in to see what he was talking about.
“Whatchu say, Big Cuz?”
“Have Pearla and Bella help her in the bath and wash her hair… I’ll send somebody to come clean the floor.”
“Or you can come put her in the bath yourself? It’d be good for her to see you, Big Cuz.”
The line grew quiet. I watched as Solana struggled to open her eyes again. She may have been trying to adjust to the light, but either way, I was just happy her ass didn’t die on me.
“Have the girls come help her, Italian.”
Click.
“On God, bruh… My future wife bet not put me through half the shit these mob wives have been doin’ to the Cuppacios. Shit gotta be a curse or sum’n.”
Solana’s body jerked, and I thought she was coughing or about to throw up some more. When it happened again, I prepared myself to be covered in it. When nothing happened, I looked down to see a slight smile on the damsel’s face.
“Italian… We finally meet.”
Solana’s breath smelled of the throw up we were both covered in, but it felt good to see my girl smile. She’d been in this bitch going through it, and taking my ass right along with her.
“I done seen you a few times, but a nigga like me be playin’ the background. So, I guess you can say we finally meetin’.” I took a breath and watched her blink a few more times. “You scared me, yo,” I admitted.
She opened her eyes fully for a brief moment and then closed them again. Solana reminded me of a doll, and not just any doll, but one of the ones that would be put in an antique shop or something. Even though she was a powder head, she wasthe finest one I’d ever seen. She was a rarity, and so far, the Cuppacio men had gone four-and-oh when it came to bagging the baddest as wives. Hopefully, us littles, as they called us, got just as lucky but without all the damn baggage. Jisei, Pia, and Discover had all come with some type of bullshit.
“I hope she does…”
“Hunh?” I asked, trying to understand what she was talking about. It wasn’t in Spanish, so she had to be saying something directly to me.
Solana opened her eyes again. I hadn’t noticed that they were so round and just as dark as her skin until now that I was knee deep in her throw up.
“Chico guapo… Handsome boy. You’re handsome. Too handsome. I hope she puts you…Pasar por mucho… a lot… I’m struggling with translation.”
“So you sayin’ you hope she gives me hell? Damn, I been in here takin’ care of you good. We eat good all day, errday, and you want me strugglin’ when I find my wife.”
As I engaged with Solana, I was texting with my free hand. Bella hadn’t texted me back, which I figured, since she was on the phone with Essex, and I’d seen Pearla’s phone on the fireplace mantle, so she probably wouldn’t respond fast either. The next person to text was Mahzeyah. I’d had her number for some time, stealing it from Bella’s phone, but I had never used it.
