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“Fuck outta here. You know damn well that wasn’t me. Not the kid.”
“Yeah, okay. If you say so.”
As soon as the cabin door opens, e’eryone rushes toward the front of the cabin, tryna get the fuck to their next destination. We exit the plane and make our way toward baggage claim. I have my cell up to my ear, listenin’ to my four messages. “Call me. This is Vita.” Delete.
“Hey, sexy. This is Cherry. Hope you had a safe flight back. Can’t wait to see you this week. Hit me up when you can.” Shit, I forgot I was goin’ out there in a few days. Hell, I might as well not even unpack. Thursday I’ll be right back on a plane again. We stop in front of the restrooms. Gee, Mike and Glenn’s asses gotta piss. They ask me to watch their bags. “Yo, I don’t know why you muhfuckas didn’t piss on the plane.” They ig me, walkin’ off.
I listen to my third message. “Alley Cat, what’s good, nigga? It’s ya girl Electra. Holla back, baby.” And just as I’m deletin’ it, Chanel and her peoples come walkin’ outta the women’s bathroom. I grin. Chanel shakes her head, grabbin’ her girl by the arm, yankin’ her over toward me. She yanks her arm back.
“Bitch, don’t be pullin’ on my arm like that.”
“Whatever, ho. You need some dick in ya life and this muthafucka is fine as hell, so stop frontin’,” Chanel says loudly. They step up in my space. “Okay, it’s obvious you checkin’ for my girl, so what’s ya name?”
“Alley Cat,” I say, starin’ at her peoples. Gotdaaamn, this bitch is fine! Her slanted hazel eyes can hypnotize a muhfucka. I’ve fucked some bad bitches in my day, but this one right here is in a class all by herself.
“Alley Cat, this is Katrina, Kat for short.” She pushes her girl closer toward me. “Kat, Alley Cat. Now ya’ll make nice and exchange numbers. Geesh.”
I smile, watchin’ her girl walk off. “So, you ready to drop them digits?”
She huffs, pullin’ out her iPhone. “Nigga, give me ya damn number.” Gee and ’em come walkin’ outta the bathroom as she is programmin’ my number into her cell. She dials the number, lets it ring, then disconnects the call.
I grin. “So when we goin’ out?”
“When you ready to drop some paper on a bitch,” she says, switchin’ off toward her girl.
“I got you, ma.”
She looks over her shoulder, peeps us all startin’ at her ass. “And don’t be blowin’ my shit up either.”
I laugh. “I’ma hit you up tonight.” She igs me, poppin’ her hips.
Mike shakes his head, grabbin’ his bag. “I see you finally got her to drop them digits.”
“Yeah, man.”
“Yo, I’m tellin’ you, son. Leave that ho alone. She’s fine as fuck. But, man listen, that bitch look like she ain’t to be fucked wit’.”
“Yeah, and that’s the shit that’s got my dick hard. I’ma see what’s good wit’ her ass real soon.” Gee finally brings his ass outta the bathroom. “’Bout damn time,” I say, handin’ him his backpack.
“Yo, I had to take a shit.”
I frown. “You sat ya ass down on them nasty toilet seats?”
“Nah, muhfucka, I squatted over it.”
“Whatever,” I say, walkin’ off. By the time we get to baggage claim, our bags are already on the carousel. I snatch mine up, then wait for the rest of ’em to get theirs. We give each other dap, and hugs, then go our separate ways.
I can’t even front, a muhfucka’s exhausted. The minute I get in the crib, I drop my bags, put my phone on Quiet, then take off my clothes. I grab a sheet and blanket from outta the closet, then stretch the fuck out ’cross the sofa. I close my eyes. And before I know it, I’m knocked the fuck out.
Thursday mornin’ I’m speedin’ back up the parkway to the airport to catch my eight-thirty flight out to L.A. The last two days I didn’t
really do too much of nuthin’. I went up the way to check out Pops, and had dinner wit’ Moms. Other than that, I basically chilled. Blazed and nutted, that’s ’bout it. My cell rings. I glance at the screen. It’s Cherry. Damn, she’s up mighty late, I think, peepin’ the time. It’s two-thirty in the mornin’ there.
“What’s good, pretty baby?”
“I was calling to make sure you were up, and on your way to the airport.”
“Yeah, I’m on my way there now.”
