AllFreeNovel
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I snap my eyes open. Hold the sides’a my head in the palm of my hands, pressin’ back a headache. I’m not goin’ there; not today. I take a deep breath, then slowly blow it out, peepin’ the George Washington Bridge. I stare at all the whips, lookin’ like miniature toy cars, zippin’ up ’n down the Turnpike. I glance at my timepiece. 10:38 a.m.
I make a mental checklist of all the shit I need’a handle once I touch down. Spark an L…Shoot uptown to get’a doobie ’n nails done… Spark another blunt…hit up da Louis store and Neiman Marcus at Garden State Plaza in Paramus…
The minute we hit the ground at Newark Airport, I pull my phone outta my bag, then turn it on and wait for it to boot up. I text Chanel to let her know we landed. She hits me back lettin’ me know she’s already outside’a baggage claim waitin’ on me. Before I can hit her back, a call is comin’ through. It’s from Nut.
“Yes, whaddaya want now?” I ask, grinnin’.
“You already know. Don’t front.”
I suck my teeth. “Nigga, puhleeze. What can I do for you?”
“You can stop wit’ all the extras e’ery time I call you, for starters. Then you—”
I frown, flippin’ on his ass. “Muhfucka, whaaat?! You callin’ me, sweatin’ me, muhfucka. I ain’t beat for you.” The Asian muhfucka in the seat next to me cuts his eye over at me, shiftin’ in his seat. Why the fuck he’s still sittin’ is beyond me. I shoot him a look, raisin’ my brow, like “whaaaat, muhfucka?” He quickly gets his monkey-ass the fuck up away from me. I watch as he stretches, then gathers his shit and moves the fuck on. I get up and follow behind.
“Yo, and I’ma keep sweatin’ you ’til ya sexy-ass gives a muhfucka some rhythm. So, like I said, take down all that ’tude.”
I shake my head, makin’ my way toward baggage claim. “Umm, what did you say your name was again?”
He laughs. “Yo, you real funny, ma. Stop frontin’.”
“No…seriously. What’s ya name?”
“Alley Cat.”
I suck my teeth. “No, fool; ya government name.”
“Alex,” he offers.
“Well, listen—”
“Where you at?” he asks, cuttin’ me off.
I suck my teeth. “Nigga, why you checkin’ for me like you my man or sumthin’?”
“I will be if you learn how’ta act,” he says, laughin’.
“Whateva, Alex, Alley Cat, or whateva other lil’ name you got them gutter rats callin’ you.”
He laughs. “Yo, you can add Daddy Long Stroke to that list.”
I grunt. “Mmmph, a mess!”
“And I’m tryna be ya mess.”
“Nigga, why you checkin’ for me?”
“’Cause I wanna scoop you up tomorrow.”
“Is that right? You still in L.A.?”
“Yeah, but it ain’t nuthin’, yo. I’m tryna see you.”
I smile. I should have his no-good ass fly out to San Francisco. It’ll serve his arrogant ass right. “Well, sorry to piss on ya playground. But, you’re a day late and a stack short. I’m back in Jersey. So, no dice; not gonna happen.”
“Oh, shit. So how long you gonna be out there?”
“For as long as I want,” I tell ’im, snatchin’ up my Prada duffel bag. “I ain’t punchin’ no time clock.”
