Black & Ugly (23 page)

about. And you want me to get in the car with you?

Now, I'm sorry about Lashonda havin' that shit and I'm really sorry about you havin' it, too, but it ain't me.

I'm not leaving my apartment." I don't know where that came from. And I certainly don't feel as bold as I sound, but he's holding me at gunpoint and threatening to shoot otha mothafuckas. I can't be down wit' that shit.

Without saying another word, he grabs me by my neck and steals me. He punches me in my stomach and my face again, two times in the eye. I count twelve blows. I almost don't feel anything anymore. Just drift-ing, something like floating but not quite. Maybe it's for the best that he kills me. Because if he don't, I'ma still do what I gotta do to make a livin'. I mean, somebody gave me this shit, too. For all I know, it could've been him. He hits me one last time.

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Parade

I AM RUNNING LATE 'CUZ my mother makes me go to the store again. "Pick me up some peas, Parade," she says as I accidentally answer my cell phone, thinking it's Cannon.

She's so jealous she doesn't know what to do. I've been keeping time with Cannon ever since I met him a few days ago. I cut Melvin off, for good, after asking him to give me some money. I spent most of mine on my hair and the rest went to my mother. He had the nerve to tell me no so I decided it was no use being bothered with his short, stubby ass 'cuz outside of giving me a few dollars, he doesn't do much for me.

Tonight Cannon wants to take me out and meet my mother. I'm nervous, but in a way I want her to see him. I decide against it because I'm afraid she'll embarrass me. But she would fall out if she saw how handsome he is. Model material, baby.

We even had a couple walk over to our table at Jasper's restaurant the other night to tell us we look
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good together. That has never happened to me in my life, but I would've been pissed if somebody said that
Melvin
and I made a nice couple. Yuck!

I haven't even seen my friends like I used to 'cuz we've been together every day, and anyway, I've seen enough of them bitches to last me a lifetime. Yesterday Cannon pressed me though, saying he wants to get to know everybody who's important to me. No man has ever cared about getting to know my friends and family in the past, but he does.

I make it back to the building and I'm almost at the apartment door when Markee busts in.

"Excuse me. Can I talk to you for a minute?" Uuuuggghhh! What does he want? He knows I can't stand to look at him let alone talk to him.

I reluctantly turn around and say, "What, Markee?

I'm meetin' someone later."

"Parade, is that you? Awwwww shit. I'm all ready to lay down game and that's your fine ass? Damn, girl, you lookin' good as shit.
Dayumm!
"

"Thank you, Markee ... I think," I respond, wanting to unlock my door but hoping he's not on crud time and bust up in there with me.

"Girl, you gotta let me take you out!" he shouts.

In a way, I'm happy he is making so much noise because if something happens to me, someone might hear. That's one thing that's messed up about the Manor. If you have a conversation in the hallway, everyone can hear it because of the echo.

"Markee, you like five years old," I tell him, unenT. Styles

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thused by his compliments.

"Who the fuck you talkin' to, Joe? Don't ever fuckin' call me a kid again. I'm more man than any of them niggas you fuck wit', for real," he says as the killer I know exists emerges in his voice.

"Nobody, Markee. It's not that serious," I tell him.

"Take my number and call me when you get a chance," he continues, softening his face a little.

I'm scared of him and he knows everybody around this mothafucka is scared of him, especially girls. Plus, he just smacked a girl 'cuz she wouldn't give him her number. I consider myself lucky because he didn't ask for mine. I don't have no problems fighting a dude, but you can't win if he has a gun.

"Okay." I wait for him to give me his number so he can leave.

"I ain't got no pen, young. Get one out your purse," he tells me.

The look on my face displays what's on my mind. I don't feel comfortable reaching in my purse for anything while he's here. I ain't taking the chance of the money Jay gave me yesterday dropping out and getting robbed in my hallway.

"I ain't gonna fuck wit' you, young," he reassures me.

I reach in my purse and carefully pull out a pen, making sure not to rattle the loose bills.

"Wayne fuckin' wit' purses again?" he asks.

"What?"

"Is Wayne fuckin' wit' purses again?" he repeats,
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looking at the new Louis Vuitton that I am sportin'.

Yes, he is but no, I ain't gonna tell him. There is no way on Earth I'll tell this fool that Miss Wayne is doing something. He's my closest friend and the only one out the group who truly cares about how I feel. He gave me two purses the other day just 'cuz he likes me to have nice things.

"What?" he says with a devious look on his face.

"You think I robbed Wayne?" he continues telling on himself. "Don't believe that shit, man. That's just a rumor. Whoever broke in his house tried to set me up and shit by leaving my high school ID. What I look like droppin' that shit? That's just askin' to get caught." I'm not convinced, and I ain't buying it. I just hand him the pen and a napkin I had in my purse. He writes down his number, which will soon find my trash.

"No," I state, remembering to tie up loose ends before he tries to rob Miss Wayne again. "Wayne's not fuckin' with that shit no more. My new friend gave me this."

"You not talkin' about that nigga whose car been out front lately, are you?" he asks as he smiles like the joke is on me.

"Yeah, why?" I inquire, irritated with his short ass.

"Don't fall for that nigga, Parade. He's here on business," he continues as he hands me the napkin.

"Yeah, I know. He told me," I respond.

"He ain't tell you shit. Trust me. I know what I'm talkin' 'bout." He smirks.

"Okay, Markee." I wave my hand.

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"Look, put the number in your cell phone. You might lose that napkin," he commands. "I'll wait." I hurry up and put the right number in the phone and store it in case he wants to see it. At this point he can do whatever he desires 'cuz I'm tired of his shit. I don't want to hear anything he has to say about Cannon fuckin' with some girl around the neighborhood because that's not gonna stop me from messing with him.

"You think I'm playin'? You'll see. When that nigga finish doin' what need to be done, you call me. I know more shit than you think I do. I know everything around here."

"Alright, Markee." I approach my door. "I gotta go."

"Get at me lada," he responds, leaving the building.

I walk in the house and throw my purse on the kitchen counter. Markee makes me sick with his young ass. I'm tryin' to talk to Cannon, not waste time with him in the funky-ass hallway. I notice a note on a sticky piece of paper by the phone.

Parade,

Daffany is in PG County Hospital. She was
hurt really badly.

Wayne and Sky said they'll meet you there.

Dad

What happened to my friend? I pick up the phone and call a cab. I'm so nervous. Is she okay? Did one of
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them niggas she fuck with hurt her? I want Daffany out of that life anyway. And when did Miss Wayne call?

I just hope I'm not too late.

The cab arrives. I grab my purse and run out the door.

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