“Oh, Lord…” Glee sighed, grabbing at her side for the first time today.
“Friiiiiieeeend. Why didn’t you take the shots?”
“I’m cool… It’s fine,” I said to Mahzeyah while still watching P.
We were in a stare-off, and although I’d rather he asked me anything else other than this, I was game.
“I’ve been drinking. I’m not driving my brand-new truck.”
“That pretty-ass Beamer out there?” he asked with raised eyebrows.
I nodded. “That’s me.”
“And that’s one of three! My bitch got whips!” Mahzeyah bragged as if almost everyone in the room didn’t have some type of access to money.
My people had blessed me. The car Nel had bought me was riddled with bullet holes, but I appreciated my baby. He’d bought me another since the insurance paid him, and my father had purchased me one, too, while Rio had purchased the other. I rarely went anywhere, so I didn’t need three cars, but I was grateful. A year ago, I didn’t have even one car and was living in an apartment in the hood.
“Oh, yeah? You lit, huh? I can take you in my car, though. That way I can know you really ’bout it.” He challenged.
“Unh, unh!” Bella sang.
“This shit crazy…” Italian blew smoke in the air. He’d have to open all the windows and clear it out before Baby Leader came back over. “Pearla, I’ll just take you. Y’all ain’t ’bout to have them niggas barking at me over her,” Italian stated.
“No…” I stood, stuffing my feet in the Ugg Tasman slides I’d worn today.
My outfit was simple with jean Aeropostale shorts, a white graphic tee, and a jean jacket that I’d left in my car. My hair was braided in small stitch braids that fell to the side of my shoulders with boho pieces added. I’d gone to the black-owned shop that Glow had recommended, and they hadn’t disappointed.
“You have to stay here. P can take me.” I turned to P, scanning him from head to toe before walking past him.
“Fuck it! I’m going too,” I heard Bella say.
“Me too?—”
“Nawl. Sit y’all asses down. It don’t take all y’all to go.”
“Boy, fuck you!” I heard Mahzeyah yell.
“The baby on the way back. Don’t you want to get some time with her before you have to go home?”
That must’ve been enough to convince Mahzeyah to stay because, as I walked out of the townhome, I heard her say, “Open the windows.”
I hit the locks on my truck and heard the front door close.
“I’ma get my truck,” P called out.
Keeping my back to him, I opened the driver’s door and grabbed my jacket and my Gucci coin purse. “I’m just getting my jacket.”
“Looka all dat assssss!” Bella slapped me on the butt just as I was lifting out of my car.
“Now, what if I had pooted?” I joked, even though my heart was beating like an African drum.
“Then, I’ll just be a pooted-handed hoe.”
I giggled as I closed my car door. I stuck my arm into my jacket and faced my friend. Bella was so damn pretty. She didn’t have an ounce of melanin in her, but one wouldn’t know that with her mannerisms and lingo. She was my favorite white sista, but calling her white did nothing but rile her up. She identified as Italrish: Italian and Irish. I didn’t even know that was a thing.
“He fine as hell, friend, I will give him that. I don’t even do light-skinned. He could get it, though.”
We both stood in the yard watching P jog across the street. The sun was beaming down on us, but where we were going, I’d need the jacket. P hit the locks on a black Jeep Wrangler sitting on huge tires. When he pulled in and reversed, the red brake lights were not as vibrant as the shiny paint job. I gave a silent nod of approval for his choice of car.
