Page 95 of When I Thug You Like That

“Yeah. Whatever y’all doing over there, it’s working. His mother sees the change too.”

“That’s good. Let me text T real quick and let her know we’re good to go for tomorrow. One sec.”

Picking up my phone, I sent Taina a text message. It only took her a few seconds to respond.

“She said we betta not let nobody push her baby hairline back, or she coming to clip they ass.”

We both laughed.

“Tell her I’m vouching for the barber. He’ll be good.”

The way he said it gave me more than enough reassurance.

“I really appreciate you setting this up.”

“You already told me that.”

“I know.”

“So, stop.”

“Sir, yes sir.” I saluted.

“I thought you was gon’ slip up and call me Daddy again.”

“You wish.”

“You will,” he countered, shutting me up.

“Boy, would you look at the time,” I said through a fake yawn. “I need to head to bed.”

“Every time yo’ ass get caught out there, you run.” He snickered. “It’s cool. There’s gonna come a time when you can’t. Goodnight, beautiful.”

I blushed. “Goodnight, Jamison. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I ended the call and stared up at the ceiling with a stupid smile on my face. I couldn’t wait to see him again.

By one o’clock the next afternoon, Chuston and I were headed out the door, on our way to the barbershop. Taina had dropped him off a few hours earlier before heading out to run a few errands. She didn’t make it to the elevator before she was texting me instructions, all of which had nothing to do with Chuston.

T: Make sure you look cute. And don’t wear no sweatpants either. Wear something that make your ass look fat.

Me: My ass is fat in my sweats too, T.

T: Yeah, in them Fashion Nova two-piece sets. Don’t you go putting on one of them Nike sweatsuits, looking like you going to chill with one of the homies.

Me: Lmao! Bitch, get out my messages and text me when you on your way to get him. Bye.

Even though she made me sick, I still took her advice and put on a two-piece set. I wanted to step out looking cute, so I put on a cropped puffer coat to go with the fit and a pair of Sauconeys.

During the drive, Chuston sat in the passenger side, scrolling his phone, occasionally looking up whenever I made a turn. I made sure to update him on how far we were every five minutes to ease his mind.

“How long, Aunty Jai?” he asked as we pulled onto the street.

“We here, boo,” I confirmed, giving him the okay to take his seatbelt off once I parked.

The barbershop was located on the west side of Harlem, which I was familiar with, so I didn’t need to use my GPS to find it. Before stepping out, I sent a message to Jay, letting him know we’d arrived. He responded back immediately.

Jay: I’m inside. Coming out to get y’all.