“Whatever you bring me, boo.”
I placed my phone in my lap and pulled out of the parking lot, down Crenshaw, palm trees lining the streets like they’ve been watching generations make the same mistake. I caught the light at Slauson and checked my makeup in the mirror.
My shorts were lil’ and huggin’ my thighs, top lil’ showing off my curves, and my cocaine-white toes were shining bright through my sandals.
I got to the grocery store, and all eyes were on me, rightfully so; I looked good. When I stepped out, I represented not only myself, but my nigga as well.
I walked through, letting the cold AC cool me off from that hot ass LA sun. I grabbed some water, some cleaning supplies, and some things I needed for dinner and checked out.
Walking back to my car, niggas were trying hard to get my attention, but I didn’t move like that. Plus, Gio wasn’t wrapped too tight.
I pulled out of the parking lot and headed to the block that helped raise Gio, when I had a feelin’ my nigga needed some blunts. I pulled in front of a corner store and hopped out quick, not even realizing the group of niggas that was standing outfront. I walked past them, trying to pay them no mind, when one cleared their throat and opened the door for me.
“Here you go, sexy,” he said, looking me up and down.
I looked him up and down. “Umm, thank you…” And I walked inside.
I nodded to the clerk and walked toward the back, grabbing some water for Gio and me, when I heard the chime from the door and looked back to see that same nigga walking in.
I wasn’t nervous; I was just on my toes.
He moved to the back slowly, like he was trying to walk up on me, and I moved to the front, placed my water on the counter, and asked the clerk for a box of Dutch Masters. While I waited for them to make a box for me, I heard that same nigga clearing his throat behind me.
“I can pay for it, sweetie,” he said behind me.
I slowly turned around to face him.
“No thanks, I got it.”
The clerk rang up my shit, and I placed my handbag on the counter to dig through my purse and pull out a band of cash. I took the rubber band off and handed the man a twenty.
He smirked and chuckled under his breath, lookin’ at the man behind me.
“Yeah, buddy, I don’t think she needs your help for anything.”
I laughed, grabbed my change, and turned to walk away. The nigga was lookin’ at me, but that smile on his face was slowly turning into a mean mug. I walked out, hopped in my car, and did a U-turn in the middle of the street just to go to the street taco stand on the other side and get Gio and me some food.
But, as Gio would say, my nigga sense was going off. Even though I was feet away from the store, that one nigga still had his eyes on me as he walked to his car.
My eyes followed him. For some reason, I would not take my eyes off him. I smirked to myself. That nigga didn’t know who he was fuckin’ with.
He did the same thing I did in the middle of the street and parked behind me and sat in his car. The man was handing me my order, and I was walking back to my car by the time he tried to hop out.
I waited for a second, watching him walk up to the food stand while trying to look through my tinted windows.
I pulled off and headed down the street. Checking my rearview mirror periodically.
I rode through and saw where Gio was parked, and was able to park beside him. I hopped out, grabbed our food and drinks, and took a pack of blunts out of the box for him. By the time I was closing the door, that car was pulling into the parking lot. I clocked it and took my time walking over to the ball court. I want that nigga to see where I was going.
As I got closer to the court, I felt eyes behind me, and saw Gio on the court talkin’ to Kronic and Bully. My eyes never left him, but when he looked around and saw me, he stopped mid-sentence and gave me a lil’ nod. I smirked and started to unpack our food, and took a sip of my water when I felt a tug on my arm, making me spill my water.
“Bitch, you think you somebody out here, carrying money like a nigga won’t rob your lil’ ass,” he spat at me.
“Get the fuck off me!” I yelled out, getting Gio’s attention.
The nigga tried to pull me away but stopped when he heard yellin’ coming from a distance.
“Aye!” Gio yelled out while showing his Glock in his waistband. “Get the fuck off my girl.”
