Homegirl Ain't Gonna Make It: Homegirl Ain't Gonna Make It, #2

By Eric Reese

Gabrielle is safe back home, but trouble still seems to find her!

Fresh off the false flag in Boston, Gabbie comes home, finding her parents have divorced. Her sister, Khadi, is becoming a teenage horror.

A new suiter, Maleek, her mother's co-worker, is trying so hard to be accepted in Gabbie's life.

Things are quickly adding to the nostalgia.

In spite of the fact that Gabrielle's friends are supposed to be a source of support, their immature behavior will turn into an unbelievable adventure filled with suspense and drama that no one anticipates.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Eric Reese
• Release date: Jun 4, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393303510

Eric Reese

"Every book I write goes into uncharted territories others won't pen."   About me: I'm Eric Reese, born in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. I've worked as a community organizer, educator, graphic design, human services and a number of other fields.  I'm the recipient of the first Mayoral Scholarship of Philadelphia (1993), the Philadelphia Federation of Teachers Human Relations Award (1989) and a few other awards and scholarships nationally and globally.  I've always had an interest in writing especially from the old-journal-in-the-morning days as many of my books today reflect my experiences here and abroad.  When I have time for myself, I love traveling, mediating and researching new marketing tactics. One of my weirdest experiences was when I once lived on a top roof in an apartment building in Beirut for a few weeks until I found somewhere to stay during the war in Afghanistan. Every night, I'd listen to BBC radio and hear the chaos while not be detected.  Some say that my lively and energetic character has made me many friends across the world. I really hope so; with many friends come many enemies. In the future, I'd love to own a large home somewhere in a quiet peaceful spacious area where my neighbors are not close but not far. Now I live wherever is called home at the time in hopes of achieving my goal one of these days. You can contact me at [e-mail]

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

BACK IN NEW YORK

I hate airports. Crowds cause my anxiety to reach uncharted levels. Don’t get me wrong. I enjoy flying, but dealing with so many people and every airport procedure from entering and exiting the plane was a bit of a stretch.

Moving through the crowd, I ignored the stares. My hands were sweaty, causing my grip to loosen. Damn, suitcase almost slipped out of my hand.

I tried getting to the exit as fast as possible. My mom and ad didn’t know I’d be coming back home. Sensing the fluctuation of my mood, I took a deep breath. Taxi, I yelled. I didn’t have time for a Lyft.

My mother Ummi played the biggest role in my life when dad was away working. She gave me and my sister everything and I am forever grateful. I could only imagine the expressions on their faces, the moment I walk through the door.

A taxi stopped in front of me. An African man got out and grabbed my suitcase and placed it in the trunk. His white teeth was more than his smile as he opened the door for me. His kindness weirded me. Is this the new New York City? I wondered.

Where to Miss?

St. Greenwood. Number 13. I barely made eye contact, constantly checking the time on my phone.

New York’s a wonderful city. I call myself lucky spending my whole childhood here. Growing up in a lower-middle class family had its trials, but Al-hamdulilah (praise be to God), we were blessed.

My phone buzzed, a text message read: Where are you? Ummi is freaking out.

My family always made such a big deal out of everything. I thought I told Khadi not to say anything before I came. I decided not to text back and shut off my phone.

Traffic was horrid. It was the second thing I hated the most about New York. I was nervous thinking I’d have to spend way too much money on this taxi. Why didn’t I just call Lyft? Hopefully, the ten-dollar bills in my purse would cover everything. Otherwise, I would be forced to get this driver to take what I had.

You look like you’re not from here. Am I correct? the driver said looking through the rear-view mirror.

Wrong.

I’m from here. I looked out the window not paying him any mind. "What kind of a question was that?" I thought.

Oh really, the girls here talk a lot. Many of my— said the driver turning down one block.

I’m not one of those girls, I said to myself. The beeping of cars stuck in traffic was bugging me and it looks like we would be here all day.

Just tired, that’s all.

How was thee flight?

"People just don’t know how to mind their damn business these days." I thought.

As he was about to say something else, my phone cut him off. It was Ummi. I panicked, thinking my tone would give away where I was. I might as well not answer.

I’m gonna be home soon. I texted.

I wasn’t a good liar. The taxi started moving finally after a forty-five-minute traffic jam. I was upset we took so long crossing Manhattan bridge.

How much time do we have left?

Not much, it appears to be clearing up, said the driver making a swift turn. We’re on the main road now, minutes away.

Leaning on the window, I gazed. It was odd that this part of New York City was in such a calm state. The neighborhood we lived in was known for robberies and drug dealing. Just like many of New York’s streets were. I’m just glad I wasn’t caught