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“Because we ain’t thirsty like the rest of these hoes out here.”
“Says who?”
“Says me, bitch.”
“Humph,” she grunted, standin’ up. “Speak for ya’self. A bitch lookin’ for some new dick for the summer.”
I rolled my eyes. “Well, go on and get ya ho-stroll on, then. I’m keepin’ my ass right here. I ain’t beat.”
“Then I’ll get at ya in a few. I wanna see what’s really poppin’ out here.”
“Whateva,” I said, tryna keep my eye on the niggas runnin’ up and down the court. On some real shit, I couldn’t tell you shit ’bout who was doin’ what ’cause a bitch was really only cock watchin’, tryna see whose dick was doin’ the most bouncin’ ’round in they shorts.
A nigga tryna get at Chanel disrupted my peep show. “Yo, ma,” he yelled from a few seats away, “what’s good wit’ ya fine self? Let me holla at ya.”
I looked over my shades to see what his grill looked like. He was a light-skinned cutie—a bit too bright for me, though—with short, wavy light-brown hair. His wears were aiight, but nothin’ to get a bitch’s pussy moist over.
“Ugh, not,” Chanel said, puttin’ the palm of her hand out to stop him. “I’m checkin’ for heavyweights, so go run along, little one.”
A few peeps laughed, but that didn’t stop the nigga from tryna come back at her. “Yeah, okay. This little boy got ya heavyweight, aiight. I’ll split that ass right down the middle.”
“Nigga, puhleeze. I wouldn’t even let ya busted, crab ass lick the shit outta my ass.” She flicked her fingas at him. “So, poof…be gone!”
Before dude could open his mouth to say somethin’ else, she turned to me and said, “See ya. I’m out. Hit me on the cell when you ready to meet up.”
“Whateva, bitch,” I said. “But when ya ass ends up with nothin’, fuckin’ with these niggas, don’t say I didn’t warn ya.” She threw her hand up, wavin’ me off, switchin’ and bouncin’ her way off into the crowd. I looked around and peeped a few niggas with they eyes locked on her big ass.
My cell phone rang. I glanced at the number, then flipped it open. I stuck my finga in my right ear, tryna block out some of the noise. “Hello?”
“I got my eye on you, baby.”
“Say, what?” I asked, lookin’ around. “Where are you?”
“What you lookin’ around for?”
“Oh, what, you spyin’ on me, now?” I said, laughin’.
“Yeah, I got eyes everywhere; thought you knew.”
“Nah, I didn’t. So, did these little eyes of yours see me suckin’ ya dick and ridin’ ya ass down into the mattress last week?”
He laughed. “Nah, but right now they see a bunch of niggas sittin’ around a real dime-piece tryna get what’s mine.”
I rolled my eyes, suckin’ my teeth. “Oh, please. I ain’t thinkin’ ’bout these niggas.”
“Yeah, aiight. What you thinkin’ ’bout then?”
“How ’bout I’ll tell ya when I see ya?”
“Yeah, you can do that,” he said. Some nigga sittin’ next to me tapped me on the shoulder to ask me somethin’. I looked at his ass, then igged him, rollin’ my eyes.
“Aye, yo, don’t have me hurt nobody out here.”
“Grant,” I said, laughin’, “where the hell you at, nigga?”
“Look in back of you.” I craned my neck all the way around, and there his fine ass was, sittin’ five rows in back of me with a bunch of niggas dipped in jewels. I didn’t remember seein’ his ass sittin’ there. Then again, I wasn’t lookin’ for him. He smiled at me, gettin’ up from his seat and makin’ his way down to me. I was glad I had my shit in the space where Chanel had been sittin’. He sat down beside me. “Hey, beautiful,” he said, kissin’ me on the neck.
I smiled. “Oh, you tryna mark your territory, huh?”
