Good for Nothing

By Marline Devine

Good for Nothing, is about various characters whose lives have been impacted by lover's, sibling's their parent's or society itself. The book starts off with the story of a woman named Remy and her daughter Aniejaa. a locked up baby daddy named Tyrell and his mom Miss. Ilena. Remy meet's Baeb at a nightclub and become's friend's with him. Shortly after Christina's introduced with her daughter Kayla and her daughter's father Brian, her little sister Angela as well as their father John.
Afterwards the reader is lured into the life of Laquisha, her uncle Nash and her greedy, thieving lover Honesty. Laquisha is a female pimp, who was raised as a warden of the state. She was taught the pimp game by her uncle. Nash is a controlling dominating infamous pimp, who beat's on his girlfriend Keisha who moved from New-Orleans after losing her home and job to hurricane Katrina.
Kamia's also another character in the story that has problems with a jealous acting mother Vivian and pedophile father Leon. Although she's had a few relationships with men, she carries on a secret relationship with a female named Jade who has a sister named Nicole who's always trying to break Kamia's and Jade's up. At some point Kamia is introduced to her friend Pink's cousin Clip. Who also has a story of his own about his past and the hell he went through.
Good For Nothing, guides it's reader's into understanding that it's not so much as where youre from that can dictate your future, but also what you've been put through in life. Which can dictate what path a person might end up taking, depending on what they choose to do with the situation they find themselves in. Rather they are going to turn out to be Good for Nothing or try to find a way to become Good for Something.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Apr 25, 2014
• ISBN: 9781493183456

Book preview

Copyright © 2014 by Marline Devine.

Library of Congress Control Number:                        2014904688

ISBN:                  Hardcover                             978-1-4931-8344-9

                            Softcover                               978-1-4931-8343-2

                            eBook                                    978-1-4931-8345-6

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Rev. date: 04/21/2014

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris LLC

1-888-795-4274

fwww.Xlibris.com

[e-mail]

606833

CONTENTS

Dedication

Good for Nothing

CHAPTER ONE

Remy Jones

Christina Atkins

Kamia Blue

Laquisha Taylor

CHAPTER TWO

Jamz

L.A

My Girl

Just Another Day

CHAPTER THREE

Trifling Bitch

A Ho named Candi

Sadie & Rhonda

Rhonda

CHAPTER FOUR

Nash & Laquisha

Baeb

Remy, Aniejaa & Baeb

Christina

Meeting Clip

Gentlemen’s Paradise

CHAPTER FIVE

Secret-Admirer

Ho’s n Da’ House

A Family Thing

Clip

CHAPTER SIX

The Restaurant Faterose

A Simple Call

Sadie, Angela & Clarice

The Fight

CHAPTER SEVEN

Kamia & Clip

Laquisha & Honesty

Dinner & a Movie

A Dumb Move

Her Thought’s

CHAPTER EIGHT

The Sad Truth

A New Friend

Gentlemen’s Paradise

Staying Strong

Remy, Baeb & the Kid’s

CHAPTER NINE

Rejected Ho’s

Moving Out

Home Sweet Home

Keisha & Tasha

CHAPTER TEN

Caught-up

About Honesty

Jade meets Swift

Just kicking It

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The Kreme

Stepping out of Pocket

Taking Off

A Swift Call

The Job

CHAPTER TWELVE

Dominating Nash

Honesty & Laquisha

Tyrell

Christina & Sadie

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Sad Kamia

The Death of an Inmate

Dead Prostitute

Fighting Back

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Christina & Willie

Swift & Jade

Whooping Nash’s Ass

Ride or Die

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Kamia & Jade

Tyrell’s Gone

The Apology

Hooking up

Remy & Baeb

Attacked

Honesty’s prostituting

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Pimpful Ways

Bad News for Vivian

A Casual Talk

Married Again

The Proposal

The Wedding

Author Biography

Acknowledgments

DEDICATION

No matter how much time passes

You will always be in my heart and thoughts.

You have always been so much more than just my niece

Now that you’re in heaven, I pray that you found some sort of peace.

I miss you Babygirl

This book is in dedication to the loving memory of

Karen Rose Juanita Welch.

R.I.P

GOOD FOR NOTHING

Before you dare to take the chance, or even try to sneak a glance

At what you’ll find inside, here’s a warning in advance.

The words are mind blowing because the author is like no other

This book will leave you shook and shivering looking for some type of cover

People cheating on their lover’s, drug infested parents and an outrageous jealous ass mother.

Love ain’t shit, when you’re constantly taking hits

Through all the trials and tribulations, low life hater’s will always try to disk.

Pimp’s hustler’s dealer’s thieves’ and Ho’s

If you’re scared of reality, then you better keep your eyes closed

The knowledge of my word’s are way to potent, to be forgotten or wasted

The moment you open this book and start reading, you not gonna want to stop tasting.

We all need to take a closer look at the path that we’re taking

Don’t get it twisted, confused or mistaken.

Anything you put out in the streets is bound to come back double.

If you don’t want any static, then keep your ass out of trouble.

The whole concept of Good for Nothing

Is a call to us all, is to try to make a change

So that we can find some sort of way to become

Good for Something.

By Marline Devine.

CHAPTER ONE

REMY JONES

Remy was a twenty five year old Indian female who’s prized possession was her long silky black mane of hair, caramel bronze skin tone and stunning figure that made lots of other females envy her. She worked part time for a small alarm collection company, but was a full-time hustler. She’d perfected and mastered her hustle with careful thought and consideration of all the pro’s and con’s she always thought about the consequences, before making any big decisions and always had a back-up plan, in case she ever got caught.

She was very intelligent, there was nothing naïve about her. She pulled her hustle at least twice a month. Going to various libraries, cafe’s and coffeehouses to go on-line and purchase merchandise, Remy already had a trustworthy list of client’s, that kept her pockets filled. She would never log onto a computer under her real name, but always used fake alias, or sometimes even the customer’s name.

Especially if she knew for a fact they’d be nowhere around, during the time of the delivery. It made everything look more legit. Sometime’s while she was collecting a payment from one of the alarm company’s customer’s, she’d saved their valuable information, such as their checking, credit and or debit account information.

*     *     *

There were so many times that she’d be at work and take a call from a customer and instead of them just paying their bill, they would often feel the need to talk her ear’s off. About stuff she didn’t give a damn about. Still she’d always take the time to listen to them rant on and on about trip’s she couldn’t imagine in her richest dreams.

She also made sure to keep fake license plates for the goody two shoe neighbor’s, that didn’t have anything else to do but watch everything that went on in the neighborhood. Her hustle was straight, she’d sit in her truck waiting to spot the delivery person. The second she did, would jump out the vehicle and casually walk up to the front door to check the mailbox as if she lived there.

She’d used a few customer’s from her job credit card account’s to pay for everything that she’d ordered and was even bold enough to have the shipment’s sent to some of their residences on some occasions. The main time she’d have them deliver the items to a customer’s place, was if she knew for a fact that they were away. If she didn’t have the item’s sent to one of the customer’s homes, she’d have it delivered to an abandoned or unoccupied residence. She glanced through the rearview mirror, wishing the next shipment would hurry up and get there. One of the many rules of hustling was to never hang around one spot too long, because it could cause complication’s.

The shipment she was presently waiting on was a big one. She’d ordered quite a bit of Babyphat, Apple-Bottom, Coogi and Prada as well as some other designer styled clothing, via the internet. The order’s had cost well over nine thousand. The cost of it all, hadn’t meant anything to her. She’d used one of the wealthier account’s from her job to pay for everything. Finally, she saw a delivery truck heading her way.

*     *     *

Thank you. Was the only thing the delivery person normally said, after she gave them a large considerable tip. He didn’t care about any identification or anything else. The hundred dollar bill was the only signature he needed. If it turned out she wasn’t who she claimed to be, it wouldn’t be any sweat off his behind. She packed the packages into her Chevy Blazer. The truck was alright for the time being, although she didn’t think there was anything magnificent about the vehicle but it did get her from point A’ to Z’ without any problem’s. It was okay as long as it stayed reliable. Although she envisioned herself riding a luxury vehicle, someday.

At the present time the occupants of the residence she was waiting for her packages to arrive at, weren’t there. They we’re on vacation.

Still, she couldn’t sign the fake name on the confirmation slip quick enough. Luckily the delivery man was in as much a hurry as she. His next drop off would be his last, before he could finally go home. He hadn’t bother trying to ask for any type of identification.

She’d usually walk up to the delivery guy, commenting about how lucky she was to have made it home just in time to catch him and sign for her packages. If anyone ever asked for any identification. She’d simply act as though she couldn’t find her wallet, with a dismayed look on her face.

Then smile apologetically and try to pursue the person with a very nice tip, which never seem to fail. Everything about her was a disguise, she never wore her makeup as heavy as she was wearing it at the moment and kept a variety of wigs on hand so her hairstyle never looked the same. If anyone was to ever catch on or become suspicious everything except the color of the truck was fake none of it was real. Not even the size she appeared to weigh, she wore extra clothing to make herself appear a little larger than she actually was. At the job she’d be lucky to bring home a thousand every two weeks, but with her hustle she was pulling a good three to four thousand a week.

*     *     *

She’d been hustling since her daughter’s father Tyrell had ended up going to prison for armed bank robbery. He had been an unbelievable mate to her and a wonderful father to their daughter Aniejaa. Who’d been named after his deceased little sister, Tyrell hadn’t initially planned to rob anyone. He’d worked for the very same bank that he and his friends had ended up robbing but had gotten laid off after the company had been forced to down size some of its employee’s.

Although he’d worked for the company for over six and a half years, there had been other’s that had been there longer. After getting high and intoxicated with a few guy’s he hung out with occasionally. He’d started complaining about being let go from his job. His boy Tony had been the first to mention the idea of robbing the place, at first Tyrell thought he was just kidding around and kept joking along with him, He didn’t think Tony was for real until their boy Joe jumped into the conversation.

It was then that it hit him, that the other two guy’s hadn’t been playing in the least bit, but were dead serious.

Under normal circumstances, he would’ve never allowed himself to partake in such a plan such as robbing a bank. Especially one he was so well known at, it had been a long time since his foolish gang-banging day’s.

He’d previously been associated with a well known gang, but had wised up as he’d gotten older leaving the foolish life style at the age of seventeen after the loss of his little sister. Anejaa had ended up getting caught in the cross fire between the gang he’d been affiliated with and their rival’s, everything had happened so fast. His baby sister Anejaa had just walked out the front door of their home to visit some friend’s that lived just a few houses down and had only been gone a few minutes, when gunshot’s suddenly broke out all over the place. When the shooting had stopped and the smoke had finally cleared the air. His baby sister and one of her friend’s were found lying on the sidewalks pavement, bleeding to death no one from either gang had been hit. Just the two innocent girls.

The sound’s of some of the mothers and fathers tear’s of rage could still be heard throughout the streets, long after the night was over and a new day about to begin. Saying good-bye to Anejaa had been the hardest thing Tyrell had ever had to do. His bitter feelings of guilt, hurt and betrayal pushed him to walk away from the very same gang that had promised to protect him and his family.

*     *     *

Years later faced with the dilemma of no longer being employed or able to take care of his fiancée Remy and their daughter Aniejaa. Robbing the place he’d felt in his drunken state of mind that had done him in hadn’t sounded like such a bad idea, at least it hadn’t at the time. Beside’s he’d thought to himself if he went along with the plan, he’d be able to still take care of thing’s at home and have some ends to put to the side for a rainy day as well. Until he could at least find another job, the concept of the plan’s capability of backfiring hadn’t hit him, till’ it was too late. The ignorant fool’s, Tony and Joe had smoked quite a few bunt’s before meeting up with him.

Joe had been the one who was supposed to have been in charge of making sure none of the banks employee’s pulled any hanky pank or super hero type shit but his mind hadn’t been focused on the task at hand. He’d been too busy contemplating what he was going to do with his share of the money, more so than watching the customer’s and worker’s.

It was his negligence that had allowed one of Tyrell’s ex-coworker’s to trigger the silent alarm without any of them being aware. Joe had gotten caught red handedly still inside the bank with a lot of the money in his possession and Tony was caught a week later. His messed up habit of buying stolen hot item’s off the street’s had led the cop’s right to his front door, where they arrested not only him but his mom as well.

After getting caught-up, it wasn’t long before Tony dropped the dime on Tyrell’s involvement and possible whereabouts in exchange for a lighter sentence. Tyrell was sentenced to fifteen years, without the possibility for parole at Stillwater Correctional Facility.

*     *     *

Remy kept herself strong doing everything she could to try and keep the rent paid, while having to make sure she kept food in the house she also made sure to keep money on Tyrell’s books at the correctional facility so he could buy canteen, make call’s or purchase whatever else he needed. Even with a full plate of responsibilities she still somehow managed to find time to keep her daughter as well as herself looking nice.

*     *     *

She made a left turn from Washington onto Dowling and headed toward Lyndale, she was on her way to drop off an order of clothing that a customer had put a request in for a week ago. The large order was guaranteed to make her at least a good two/three thousand or more. She had the volume turned all the way up listening to Plies as she drove, by the time she made it to the location the chic not only bought everything she’d inquired about but a few extra’s as well. She pocketed twenty three hundred in all. On her way over to another customer’s crib she heard the distinct sound of a horn beeping beside her.

Hey Remy! Why are you acting all funny, like you can’t hear me calling your name or something! Stated a customer of hers.

What the hell are you calling my name like that for in the first place? If you were yelling any louder, everybody in the world would know who the hell I was. Maybe than I could run for president or some shit.

Girl please, if that’s all it takes for a female to run the white house, then maybe I should be yelling my own damn name! Laughed Irene.

"So, now that you have my attention what’s up?"

Not much, just wanted to pay you that two hundred I still owed on the outfit’s you sold me last month.

Great, were you trying to get anything else?

"Did you get any new knick knacks from Victoria Secret in yet?"

"I got a few thing’s, how bout I stop by your crib tomorrow around four thirty, I can bring a couple of item’s with me and you can browse through them. To see if anything catches your eye." Remy replied letting her know that she was in a hurry to get her daughter. By the time she got finished dropping off the rest of the order’s, she was exhausted, but still had to stop by Walgreen’s to pick up her photo’s.

*     *     *

She’d been waiting patiently for over thirty minutes for the slow dragging sales clerk to find her picture’s and was quickly losing the patience that she had previously entered the store with. She couldn’t fathom how hard it could be for the women to find the print’s, especially since she was holding a copy of the receipt in her hand!

Um excuse me but I’ve been waiting for quite a while, what’s the problem? I’m in a bit of a hurry.

"Well if you give me just a second, I’ll find the stupid prints for you!" Screamed the short Chinese sales clerk from behind the counter.

Remy turned, looking on each side of herself, thinking for sure the dumb broad couldn’t be screaming in her face like that but apparently she was, because there was no one else there.

For a split second she felt like reaching across the counter to snatch the short bitch up and beat the shit out of her. A move, she knew damn well she couldn’t afford to make.

It was the last thing she needed, what with Tyrell already being locked up she didn’t need to be doing anything that could put her behind bars. She was taking enough chances, with the hustle she had going on. She requested to speak with the manager and left the store after only cursing the women out. After she’d received her photo’s she took a deep breath and counted to ten, trying to relax her nerves before pulling out of the parking lot.

CHRISTINA ATKINS

"Christina please, please, I’m begging you I promise I’ll owe you big time… if you let me wear the leather Prada set." Angela continued. She was Christina’s seventeen year old sister.

"Are you crazy? Or have you conveniently forgotten how you ruined the last expensive set, I let you talk me into allowing you to wear. Which one is it? You’ve got’s to be out your mind. If you think I’m gonna let you destroy something else of mines."

*     *     *

Just thinking about the outfit that her sister had ruined of hers last month, was enough to piss her off all over again. Angela had begged and pleaded to wear the new outfit, after growing tired of hearing her sister pleas, she’d gone ahead and let her wear the fit. That she’d paid over nine hundred for. It had been a very nice Apple-Bottom outfit, suede, money green with diamond stud’s in the shape of an apple on the back of each pocket of the pants. The blouse that matched, had Strap’s that were as long as a diamond tennis bracelet.

The whole front of the blouse was decked out in diamond stud’s making the shirt look like a large diamond shaped apple, that showed off a little cleavage in the front and just plain green suede in the back with the word’s Apple-Bottom spelled across the mid-back of the blouse in diamond stud’s. It had been off the heazy, not to mention the boots that she’d paid five hundred for to go with the set. They were also suede money green with diamond tennis looking bracelet’s that spelled out the word’s Apple-Bottom.

Her sister had gone to a birthday party and had ended up getting into an altercation, as she had expressed with two or three other female’s she knew from school. Before she knew it, her and at least two of the female’s were going at it. They beat her up pretty bad, she returned home in the ruined Apple-Bottom fit.

Christina had ordered the set to give her enemies a reason to hate but now it was gone, well over nine hundred buck’s down the drain. There wasn’t a snowy chance in hell she was gonna make a mistake like that twice. For all she cared Angela could beg till’ the cow’s started shitten out egg’s instead of the steady supply of milk they were well known for.

*     *     *

You must have forgot that I baby-sat Kayla free for over three month’s as repayment for the Apple-Bottom set that got destroyed, shouldn’t that count for something? Angela asked still whining.

That’s not the point, beside’s I’m still waiting on my girl to get me another fit just like it, with the same boot’s that were ruined. Christina stated. Walking out to go see what Aniejaa and Kayla were up to down in the recreation room.

Somebody come answer this gotdamn door! Shouted their father John, from the living room. He could have easily gotten up to get it but was probably drunk again. Off the cheap vodka he loved to drink.

I’m coming… give me a second or so! Screamed Angela, running down the hall to see who was at the door. It was Remy, coming to pick her daughter up.

Hey Angela, where’s Christina? She inquired immediately, after closing the door behind herself.

She just went downstairs to the recreation room to check on the girl’s, right before you rung the bell. Angela replied.

Well I’ll just go down and join her. Remy stated. She found Christina and the girl’s picking up a pile of coloring books and crayon’s that they’d been coloring with.

Mommies’ here! Aniejaa yelled out, the second she saw Remy coming down the steps.

Thanks’ for letting her spend the night with Kayla.

"Girl puh-leaseee, Aniejaa’s never a problem, plus she keep’s Kayla busy, so she doesn’t have to follow me around the house all the time." Christina replied.

Well I still appreciate it.

"Oh yeah, I almost forgot are you still planning on going to Jams tonight?" Christina asked.

Hell yeah, if for nothing else than to get out the crib and show off my newest fit, because I damn sure don’t need no big headed, small time petty hustling ass wanna-be trying to run no sorry played out game on me! She replied.

Christina laughed, putting the coloring crayon’s and book’s back where they belonged then sat beside Remy on the sofa.

So what are you wearing, that’s gonna keep the nigga’s in check and the bitches at a distance? She questioned.

"I just ordered a Babyphat fit that’s sort of like the Apple-Bottom set you used to have, cept’ the pants are black silk with the Babyphat emblem coming down each side of the pants leg, the blouse is silk and black. With the cat logo on the front and some butterfly sleeves that extends just a little past the elbows, to set the whole thing off. I’m gonna wear my Babyphat boots, with the silver spiked heel and the Babyphat logo across the top. With the cat symbol on the side of each boot. You know they gon be whispering and shit when I step in the club. Remy said, what were you wearing?"

Don’t worry, I’ve already set out the Leather Prada set I got from you a week ago, which I haven’t had the chance to wear yet. You know the red one with the gold trimming, plus I have a red leather Prada jacket to go with it and my gold stilettos. She replied.

Christina Atkins was a twenty three year old Caucasian female, that had a three year old daughter named Kayla and an off again on again relationship with her daughters father Brian. She did what she could to be a good mom to her daughter but her job as a stripper at a joint called GoodTymes took up a lot of her time.

Her lil’ sister Angela thought her job was the bomb, but Angela wasn’t aware of all the consequences that followed such a job or the danger’s that lurked around almost every other corner that stripper’s like herself, had to deal with on a daily basis.

She foolishly thought it’d be glamorous to have lots of men drooling over you while continuously slipping money into your g-string. From time to time, just to get a female to shake their ass or breast in their face’s.

Christina had already experienced the cruel reality of the crazy and hectic life style. She was five-nine, wore size eight in shoe’s and was twenty three years old. The complete opposite, of the average white female.

She’d been raised in the hood her entire life and knew street language just as well as she knew the color of her skin. Still if there was ever a sale for African authenticity she’d be the first in line. Not because she so much as hated her own race or culture. She just didn’t appreciate the way a lot of white people treated other race’s as if they were the only ones that should exist.

The annoying part about it all to her was the way so many whites were always trying to imitate other people’s culture’s. They got a thrill out of copying everything the Chinese put on the market, were good at recreating every single Mexican dish that Hispanics or Puerto-Rican’s created. Not to mention the lip-o-suction they were constantly paying for to give their lip’s a fuller appearance like black folks and were forever paying for larger, firmer fuller breast.

She had no respect, for weak minded bow down to a man all the time type of female. She believed woman had just as much right as men to speak their mind. Regardless of the fact that she was a white girl, she had a nice figure. Whatever she lacked in the ass department, was replaced by class. Her breast weren’t that large, but it didn’t intimidate or stop her from staying ahead of the game.

Christy can you go grab me some more beer and a fifth of Vodka? Asked her father John. Who was already drunk enough as it was.

No, you’ve already went through a whole six pack and a fifth, haven’t you had enough or are you trying to commit suicide by drinking yourself to death? She questioned.

You conniving ass Haifa, I’m the parent around here… not you! Who in the hell do you think you are, to tell me when the fuck I’ve had enough? I’ll drink whenever I get’s good and gotdamn ready! He yelled in an intoxicated, drunken slumber.

Well since you so grown, get off your drunk ass and go get it your damn self! She screamed back at him, before leaving out the door.

*     *     *

She pounded on the door a few more times before throwing her hands up in resignation, maybe her cousin Sadie just wasn’t home she’d driven over since she hadn’t heard from her in a week or so. Not to mention that the last time they’d spoken her cousin had told her about some female she’d gotten into an argument with.

From what her cuz told her, some grimy chic had called out the blue to trip about a guy named Swift.

That she had been hollering at for a few weeks, the female wanted to let her know that the brother she’d been kicking it with was her man and that it’d be best if she left him alone. Sadie had gone off on the strange female, telling the broad to kiss her ass and that she’d date whoever she felt like dating. Although she’d already decided to break thing’s off with him the second the good for nothing bastard called, but she wasn’t about to tell the broad that had called her talking shit, a damn thing.

She decided to check back later that evening to see if Sadie had made it back, if not she’d give her aunt Clarice a call to see if she’d heard anything. Her aunt and her mom were identical twins.

Which made Sadie her first cousin, there were a few people who thought they looked more like sister’s than cousins. Christina’s mom had passed away when Angela had just turned ten. She’d suffered a stroke and by the time the ambulance arrived at the emergency room it was too late to save her.

Though it had been several year’s since the death of her mom, she still missed her as if she’d passed away just the other day. The relationship she’d once shared with her father was beginning to deteriorate, due to his drinking problem, that he didn’t seem to think he had. He’d started drinking to try and numb the pain of missing his wife so much, and escape from the harsh reality, that his wife, friend and soul mate was gone for good.

The first few weeks after her death he’d sit and reminisce about her every night eventually he turned to alcohol trying to seek comfort, after he started drinking he would sit in his room all day. The only time she or her sister Angela saw him, was when he’d come out to make another trip to the liquor store. Come back and go straight back into his room with the liquor and cut the radio up full blast, Just to drown out the sound of his sorrow.

He drown himself deeper and deeper in the bottle with the same disassociated behavior for over a month. Christina had tried talking to him on quite a few occasions, letting him know how much she, her sister and his granddaughter needed him more than ever. She’d tell him if their mom were alive to see what he was doing to hisself. She’d take the bottle of alcohol and hit him over the head with it, to knock some sense back into him. The talk with her father hadn’t made him quit drinking, it only made him go from his bedroom, to the living room. That way he’d still be able to communicate with his family, even though half the time he’d be drunk.

Her phone was vibrating, she pulled it from its case and pressed the talk button.

Hey Brian, I was on my way out the door. You just caught me, what’s up?

"Shit, just got word dat you were going to Jams tonight, are you?"

Yeah, I’m going to go kick it with my girl.

I know one thing for sure, your ass bet not be all up in no other muthafucka’s face. Or somebody’s gon’ get the shit stomped out of them. He threatened.

What the hell are you talking about now?

Act like you don’t know what the fuck I’m talking about if you want, just try not to forget what happened to the last muthafucker, I caught your ass try’na holla at the punk ass nigga lucky the paramedic’s got him to the hospital when they did, cause if they’d gotten the stupid nigga there any later, you would’ve been laying flower’s on the muthafucka’s grave.

Listen to yourself who do you think you are, God? What makes you think you got the right to decide when it’s time for someone to live or die? That’s why I be having to get away from your jealous ass sometime’s. The dumb shit you be on, just don’t make any sense. She retorted.

It ain’t got ta’ make sense to no one else, long as you know where da fuck I’m coming from is all dat matter’s.

I’m grown and I don’t need you tripping everytime I get ready to go out with my home girl.

Don’t give me a reason to trip, and I won’t, just know dat’ I’m serious as hell bout what I said a second ago, I’m not bull-shitten. Go kick-it with ya girl, just keep what I told your ass fresh in ya mind. I’m a holla back later. No sooner had she closed the phone up, before it started ringing again, she answered the call.

"Finally, I was starting to think you were honestly trying to ignore me or something, about what I was asking earlier can I PLEASE, wear the outfit?" Begged Angela.

"DAMN, there’s gotta be something wrong with your hearing cause I’ve told you No a thousand times already! I’m wearing my own set, it’s still brand new you think I’m going to let you ruin my shit before I get the chance to even sport the it? Look you need to stop calling me like you losing your mind or something. Go call one of your friend’s, get on their nerves and give mine’s a damn break." (click). Angela had called her over and over asking the same question. She wasn’t trying to be heartless. She was just tired of always giving into her all the time.

Talking to Brian and Angela put her in a foul mood, she accelerated on the gas. She was already running late