Harlem Girl Lost (6 page)

Tiny was the smallest of the crew, but she talked the most shit. Tiny had a serious Napoleon complex, and swore she could kick anybody's ass. She held a constant undercurrent of contempt and envy toward Jesse because Vonda, whom she'd known longer because they had grown up on the same block, had taken a liking to Jesse as they got older. Tiny hated Jesse's guts for this intrusion, but she'd gotten used to it because they still hung tough. Still, she harbored deep, deep resentments toward Jesse and tried to show her up all the time.

“Her mommy ain't gonna let her go, just like last time,” Tiny said spitefully.

Jesse looked at Tiny with contempt. “Fuck you, Tiny,” she snapped. “You don't know what the fuck you're talkin’ about. I ain't wanna go to that hot-box party Shay-Shay had any ole way.”

“I don't know why, ‘cause that shit was the serious joint. Everybody was up in there,” Lynn added.

Vonda looked at Lynn as if she were stupid. “Get the fuck outta here. Ain't nobody but them bummy-ass project hoes was up in there.”

Lynn, the only one from the projects, turned toward Vonda. “What the fuck you mean, ‘project hoes’? Ain't everybody from
the project is a hoe or bummy!” Lynn had developed a complex because of the stigma of living in the projects and thought everyone looked at her as if she was poorer than the rest of them.

“Don't be so fucking sensitive,” Vonda said.

Lynn rolled her eyes. “Then don't be calling me no project hoe.”

Vonda laughed it off. “You know you got problems. We weren't even talkin’ about you. The minute somebody mentions the word
project
you swear they are talking about you. You ain't the only person that live in the project.”

Being the shit starter she was, Tiny put her two cents in. “Jesse be thinking because her parents own a house, she better than the rest of us and shit.”

Jesse hissed, “Bitch, I ain't said a fuckin’ word about where she live, so better keep me out your mouth before I close that shit.”

Tiny said with a dry, bitter laugh, “Yeah, bitch, picture that. At least my momma don't give me a seven o'clock curfew!”

Jesse knew from experience not to let Tiny know what anger button to push, because she'd feed off it and use it against you. The only way to get back at Tiny was to check her hard. “You just mad nobody want you with your no-titty ass.”

Tiny's face flushed. She hated it when anyone talked about her physical attributes. Tiny had no curves at all; she was built more like a boy—chestless. Enraged, she jumped in Jesse's face with blind anger.

“Then kick this no-titty bitch ass, you fucking hoe!”

Vonda quickly stepped between them and separated the two before any blows were exchanged. “Y'all ain't gonna be
fighting in my mama's house.” In the bitter silence, Vonda glared at Tiny. “I'm so sick of hearing your bullshit, Tiny!”

Tiny pointed at Jesse. “Why the fuck you yelling at me and not her?”

Vonda spoke sharply, staring at Tiny. “ ‘Cause you are the one always starting some shit.” Before Tiny could reply, Vonda continued, her voice icy, “And don't be raising your mother-fuckin'voice in my house!”

Tiny paid no mind, simply turning around and dismissing the whole thing like it hadn't happened.

Lynn, the peacemaker of the crew, sensed the tension and changed the subject. “Anyway,” she said, “I heard Kenny's gorgeous ass gonna be there, so you know I'm gonna freak his ass!”

“You gonna be waiting all night, too, ‘cause bitches be waiting in lines just to dance with that nigga,” Vonda said.

Lynn, the chubbiest of them, rolled her eyes. “Shit … all I got to do is throw this chunky ass on his fine ass until he can't take it no more and he'll be begging for some of this pussy. He ain't gonna want nobody but me.”

Lynn started to imitate grinding her ass against his penis. Everybody cracked up laughing.

Vonda's younger brother Chubbs was listening by the door. He boldly walked into the room. “Yo, Lynn, fuck dat nigga Kenny, and throw dat chunky maafuckin’ ass on a real playa.”

They all looked at the pudgy boy simulating a sexual act and burst out laughing.

“Lil’ nigga,” Lynn seductively said, “if I throw ya lil’ ass some of this”—she turned around, showing him her ass to emphasize the point—”yo’ lil’ fat ass is liable to pass out!”

“You crazy. I'll bust you out big time!” the pudgy boy said in defiance.

Tiny jumped in with her two cents. “With what, lil’ nigger? Your little dingaling?” She stuck out her pinky finger and wiggled it in front of them. As they all begin to laugh at little Chubbs, he grew angrier.

“Tiny, you shouldn't talk with yo’ bony toothpick ass. You can't handle it!”

As if it was comical, Tiny frowned. “Handle what, nigga? You ain't got no dick. That shit is all up in your big stomach.”

Sucking his teeth, Chubbs retaliated. “Bitch, please …” He unzipped his Lee jeans and pulled out his penis. All the girls could do was stare wide-eyed at the size of the pudgy, foul-mouthed boy's abnormally large genitalia. Smiling from ear to ear, he spoke proudly. “My weight ain't the only reason they call me Chubbs … I gots me a chubby-ass dick too!”

“Shut your mouth and put that shit away and get out of my room before I tell Mama,” Vonda yelled.

Chubby zipped up his pants. “Yeah, and I'll tell her y'all smoking reefers.”

Vonda gave her conniving brother a mean stare but relented because she knew Chubby would rat her out if he didn't get his way. “Just get out my room,” she said.

“But I'm hungry, and you got to fix me something to eat.”

Frowning, Vonda shrugged. “Nigga, you better wait till Mama get home, ‘cause I ain't fixin’ you shit.”

“Mama ain't getting home till late. She's working late and she left a note for you to feed me.” He held up the note to prove it.

Paying the note no mind, Vonda shook her head. “You better fix yourself some cereal or something.”

“Ain't no milk!”

“Then make some peanut butter and jelly”

“Ain't no bread!”

“Then lick that shit off a spoon! Just leave me alone,” Vonda said, at her wits’ end.

“I'll call Mama at work if you don't.”

“You do and I'll kick your fat ass.”

“Watch me,” the defiant boy said, attempting to leave.

Vonda caught him and put him in a headlock. Lynn and Tiny joined in by lifting his T-shirt up and slapping his fat Jell-O-like stomach. The fat boy pleaded, calling out to Jesse for help.

“Leave my little man alone,” Jesse said.

Vonda tossed her brother to the floor and threatened him, “You better not call Mama, ‘cause if you do you won't eat shit till she comes home at midnight.”

He yelled, wiping tears from his eyes. “But I'm hungry!”

“Ooh, look at the big crybaby,” the girls taunted.

“Leave him alone,” Jesse said. She hugged him like he was a baby. “Don't worry, Chubby, I'll make you something to eat. I don't mind cooking.”

“Why you still treat him like a baby?” Vonda asked. “That nigga done changed a long time ago. He's bad just like them other niggas now!”

“That's okay. He'll always be my little cubby bear.”

While Chubbs hugged Jesse, he stuck out his tongue at the three of them.

“You're lucky, you little fucka,” Vonda said, “ ‘cause I wasn't
gonna fix you shit! You would have been sucking on those Tootsie Pops till Mama got home.”

Walking out of the room, Chubby spoke to Jesse. “Can you fix me some lima beans like you did last time? We got smoked neck bones, pig tails, and everything.”

“Sure, Chubby,” Jesse said.

Chubby ditty-bopped out of the room toward the kitchen. Then he suddenly stuck his head back in the room and smiled wickedly. “Yo, Lynn, I'll settle for a half of those big titties and make a big-ass titty sammitch!”

“Get out!” Vonda and Lynn yelled.

Kenny Duboise was tall
, slim, and drop-dead gorgeous, with the most radiant hazel eyes that you'd ever seen. He represented 142nd between Lenox and Seventh even though he didn't live on the block. All the girls from the neighborhood, as well as most of the guys, were on his shit.

Nobody could fuck with Kenny in looks or dancing. The kid had it all. He shopped at A. J. Lester's on 125th Street or down on Delancey Street in lower Manhattan to buy his mock-necks, ice-cubes, and A.J.'s, not to mention his Gators. The nigger defintely stayed dipped, keeping his Lee jeans razor sharp, and was the only nigger to switch up gear twice a day. He had every color of British Walkers, Pumas, and Pro-Keds and was the first nigger to sport a Sheepskin Quarter-field. It was rumored that his father was Ron O'Neal, that nigger from the movie
Superfiy
, because they looked just alike, only Kenny had a curly Afro and no mustache. Though nobody
really knew much about him, he hung out with the older players from the block, who let the seventeen-year-old pussy magnate hang with them partly because he always bought wine and weed.

Unknown to everyone in the crew, Jesse, too, had a big crush on Kenny but never had the heart to reveal such an outrageous idea. Kenny could have any girl he wanted. Even the older, more sophisticated girls would try to get with him. Jesse knew she didn't have a chance in hell, but at least she could watch his fine ass dance, she thought.

Later that evening, Jesse was home talking to Vonda on the phone. Jesse didn't want to miss this party for the world but wasn't sure if she'd make it. “So what time is the party?” Jesse asked.

“Your moms said you can go?” Vonda asked excitedly.

Frustrated, Jesse stuck her lip out like a small child. “I didn't ask her yet.” Jesse's mother was real strict when it came to her going out, especially to a party. Jesse could never understand the reason behind it, because she was doing well in school and rarely went out in the first place. The biggest thing, she thought, was that she was still a virgin, unlike most of the girls she knew.

“Bitch,” Vonda said, “you better do something, ‘cause you ain't got that much time left. It starts at ten o'clock, and it's already five.”

Jesse looked at her watch. “I know, but Moms don't come home from work till six-thirty.”

Vonda paused. “Where is your pops?”

Jesse knew what Vonda was leading up to. “He's here, but you know damn well my moms runs shit.”

“Bitch, that's it!” Vonda shouted. “All you have to do is tell your pops we are going to the movies, and after the movie you might stay over my house ‘cause you won't have anybody to walk you home.”

Jesse pondered this notion for a few seconds. “But what if they call your house checking to see if I'm there?” Vonda was used to getting over on her own mother and had this lying shit down to a science, but Jesse wasn't.

“Bitch, my moms ain't gonna know where we going. Even if your moms calls my house and talk to my mother, she just gonna tell her we ain't back from the movies yet.” Vonda paused to let the plot sink in. “After midnight, you go to a pay phone to call your house and say that you're back and that we are going to sleep.”

This made sense to Jesse, but she was still unsure of one thing. “But what if she calls the house for me after midnight?”

As if it was the stupidest question in the world, Vonda chided her. “What parent you know is gonna call another parent's house that late to see how their child is doing? Think about it.”

“You are one smart lying-ass bitch, you know that?”

“You know it!” Vonda said.

Now that she knew she was going, Jesse was in a rush to get ready. “I'll call you when I'm on my way, okay?”

“Okay,” Vonda said, and hung up.

Jesse knew that Vonda was truly happy her homegirl was going because it just wouldn't have been the same without her Ace—cool—boom! Even though she would have had Lynn and Tiny with her, she wouldn't have been as comfortable because with both of them conversations were one-track and
limited. Lynn was always unsure of herself and complained all the time, and Tiny was too sure of herself, constantly plotting and scheming on someone when she didn't get her way. Besides, Vonda and Jesse were the same height—both of them stood almost six feet—and being with someone that tall made her feel more comfortable, as opposed to Lynn who was squat and fat, and Tiny, who was just like her name, standing five feet nothing. Too, Vonda hated being the only one asked to dance by the guys. This made her feel guilty about the other two girls. She and Jesse were the dimes of the bunch, which made it a lot easier on Vonda.

They all met up at Vonda's house about nine-ish to change. By the time Jesse got there, everybody else was already taking showers and changing into their Sassoon or Jordache jeans.

“Oh, shit … it's on now!” Vonda said with a grin. They gave each other high fives. “Your moms and pops went for it, huh, bitch?”

Jesse put her overnight bag, filled with clothes, on the bed. “Yep, my moms started talking shit at first, but my pops smoothed her out. All she said was that I had just better call when we come back from the movies.” She reached in her pocket and pulled out a bill, smiling. “They even gave me ten dollars for some popcorn.”

Vonda's eyes lit up. “Yeah, girl, we could buy a lot of popcorn now!”

“I thought you said we was going to Stevo's party,” Tiny whined in disappointment. “Y'all ain't said nothing about no movie.”

They looked at Tiny as if she was a dunce, and Vonda shook
her head. “You know, you are one simple bitch!”They burst out in laugher as Tiny stood bewildered.

Fixing her hair, Lynn turned to Tiny. “That's where Jesse told her parents she was going to get out of the house … duh!” This made the three of them laugh even harder.

Humiliated, Tiny silently fumed as she stared evilly at Jesse. “All right, bitch,” she finally muttered under her breath. “Let's see who will be laughing tonight!”

The house party
was in full swing when they arrived. Everybody was doing the hustle, the bus stop, the spank, or the freak. It seemed everybody who was anybody was up in that piece, including Kenny and his crew. Even though it was a house party, niggers were acting like they were up in the Fever. Jesse and her girls were the queens of the dance floor, and she silently thanked those Puerto Ricans for the routine she'd stolen.