My Besties: The Come Up

BOOK: My Besties: The Come Up
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My Besties: The Come Up

A Novel by Asia Hill

ISBN: 9780990869450

Copyright © 2015 by Good2Go Publishing

Published 2015 by Good2Go Publishing

7311 W. Glass Lane, Laveen, AZ 85339

www.good2gopublishing.com

Twitter@good2gobooks

[email protected]

Facebook.com/good2gopublishing

ThirdLane Marketing: Brian James

[email protected]

Cover Design: Davida Baldwin

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced without written permission, except for brief quotations to books and critical reviews. This story is a work of fiction. Characters and events are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s rights.

Table of Contents

Acknowledgements

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Coming Soon!

Acknowledgements

All praise is due to Allah. Without his presence in my life, I wouldn’t be here today.

Jailyn, Jacob, and Jaitaya, I am in love with the thought of loving you. My drive and my struggle is all for you. Mommy loves you wholeheartedly.

To my parents, Maria and Albert, I could never take back the pain I have caused you over the years. I am truly sorry! Thank you for never leaving my side and thank you for loving me, even when I was not loveable!

Maria George, you are the best sister I never had. You loved me when I gave up on loving myself. Thank you for being who you said you were…REAL!

Tudell Blount, thank you for showing me what a real man is. We started from the bottom and now we’re here! I love you! Let’s get it!

Good2Go Publishing, thank you for giving me the chance to join a winning team! Now let’s win.

Last but certainly not least, I dedicate this book to my Uncle Daron House. Losing you was a hard pill to swallow and I’ll love you forever!

Prologue

Damn, out of all the shit I’ve done in my life, I never thought that it would end like this. As I look into the eyes of my besties, I see no fear. We came up together, got money together, cried together, killed together, and shit, it looks like we about to lay it down together. We had a great run. We shook this motha fucking city up like dice, for real!

Coming up, all we had was each other. We didn’t give a fuck about anybody because nobody gave a fuck about us; feel me? We rode hard in these streets, burning a lot of motha fucka’s in the process. What? We E.S.C., East Side Crazy! You better know it! We fucked up, though. We became comfortable when we started sleeping on the enemy and they swarmed our asses like killer bees. As I stand here with my besties ready to meet my maker, I can’t help but wonder,
“Did I choose the wrong career path?”
Hearing the hammer cock back on the gun that I’m sure would end our lives; I can’t help but to see my life flash before my eyes. The beginning was bad, but this shit right here nigga is death… literally!

“Money ova everything, self-made

but right now Shawty, you looking

like money, I’m talking real money.”

Chapter 1

Ja`ziya

“My chick bad looking like a bag of money, I go and get it and she always count it fa me.” As I sit here in my room looking out the window bumping to my motivation song, I’m just daydreaming as I always do. I wish I could get a hold of a bag of money. Shit, I’m so broke that I can’t even afford a bag of weed.

Damn shame, isn’t it? I think I was doomed the second that I came out of my momma’s raggedy-ass vagina. My momma was a pretty woman from what I remember. Although, my Aunt Tae told me that she was a rotten bitch on the inside.

She left me with her when I was eight. I’m fifteen now and shit hasn’t been right ever since. I think my aunt resents me because she fake-stopped her life to raise me. Shit, she was no better; ghetto ass bitch!

That hoe thinks that she’s still in her twenties, walking around here with her pink and blonde hair. Really? She doesn’t do shit but sit around the house waiting for her state’s check that she gets for her daughter Tyesha and I.

Tyesha is two years younger than I am, but Lil Mama is off the chain. I’m still a virgin, but she’s not. She’s out there bad and my aunt allows it. She doesn’t let me come in the house late or have a nigga call the house without flipping the fuck out on me. My aunt belittles me because I’m by far the prettiest bitch in the house.
 

My name is Ja`ziya Campbell, but y’all can call me JuJu. I’m 5’6”, 155 pounds, and thick in all the right places. I have slanted brown eyes that give me an exotic look. Our ethnic background is Jamaican and Native. I know y’all like that combination. Yeah, I’m a true rude gal, as I’ll whoop a bitch’s ass and take names later. Sometimes I don’t even take names, fuck them!

I’m not all bad though, I do have goals. I damn sure don’t want to be another statistic in the hood, such as a teenage mother or high school dropout. If I could stop fighting, I’d be all right.

Hoes hate on me all the time, which lets me know that I’m doing shit right. No one can hate on a bum bitch, am I right? I’m glad that out of all the bullshit that I’ve endured throughout my young age; not knowing my father, not having my mother, growing up in an unstable household, and having fucked up people to look up to, I can justly say that I’m not that bad.

I have three people in this world that I can honestly say love me. We literally met in the sandbox. God knew that we were all made for each other, and have been in the same class together since preschool.
 

First, there’s Tamiko, AKA Tiki. We call her “Ms. Smart Mouth” because the shit she says out of anger will make a weaker bitch commit suicide. Standing 4’11”, 130 pounds, dark brown eyes that give her a mysterious look, she rocks her hair like Halle Berry. She has an ass so big that you can sit a drink on it and she wouldn’t even know it’s there. To put icing on the cake, this hoe is bowlegged. She has that “Come Fuck Me” walk down packed. She’s the oldest out of the four of us.

All of our birthdays are in the first week of August. With four Leo’s on the prowl, trust me; we make shit move when we slide through. Tiki’s is first and mine is the third.

Next, there’s Elizabeth, AKA Dirty- E, who’s birthday is on the fifth of August. We call her “Ms. Know It All” because this bitch knows everything. She knows everybody’s business, and can tell you who is fucking who, who’s selling what, who robbed who, and when the jump-out boys are coming. How the fuck does she know that shit with her nosey ass? She is my right hand man. She is 5’2”, and she weighs 135 pounds. She is high yellow with freckles all over her face. Her large hazel eyes that make her look innocent, but don’t sleep on this hoe. She got the name ‘Dirty E for a reason. She is the tomboy of the bunch. Well, let me keep it one hundred. This motha fucker is gay as hell. She’s the enforcer. Her little ass has been through hell and back growing up, so the term, “Click the Fuck Out” fits right up her alley. I truly think that if we were in a fucked up situation, she’d be the one to come out blazing. Remember that I said that.

Last but not least, we have “Ms. Church Mouse.” Randy, AKA ReRe, is the youngest of the crew. Her birthday is August seventh. She fucks with nobody but us. If she doesn’t know you, she won’t say shit to you. When she was about six years old, her father did some fucked up shit to her body.

When I say that she developed fast, it was an understatement. At fifteen, she is 5’4, weighs 150 pounds, and her chest is a size a 36DD. This little girl measures at 34-24-40. You’d need to see this girl to believe it. This is my baby. She has the prettiest caramel complexion and her eyes are emerald green, courtesy of her white father. Her mother is Latino, so she has this thick, black hair that flows down the middle of her back; beautiful.

But, you know what they say about the quiet ones. We had a run in with some dudes a few weeks ago.

We all attend South Shore High School on 76
th
and Constance. It’s the end of the school year, just before the summer break, so instead of taking the bus, we like to walk down 79
th
. I stay on 88
th
and Marquette. It’s a nice walk, but we didn’t care because 79
th
be juking.

So on this particular day, we decided to cut up Jeffery and stop at the gas station on 76
th
. We were all walking, laughing, and having a good time when this light blue Charger with twenty-four inch ice medals was at the light, beating my shit, “Clappers” by Wale.

Shawty got a big ol butt, O YEAHHHHH!

“That’s yo shit, JuJu!”

“E, you know that’s my shit!”

Right there on the corner of 76 and Jeffery, I hit that shit. I dropped to the ground on my tippy toes and popped my ass all the way back up. Your girl’s a fool with those dance moves. My besties, all except for E of course, started doing the same shit. That’s how we move.

The passenger yelled out the window, “A, shawty in the red! What up?” I looked at ReRe and smiled, “Go ReRe, he at you,” I teased.

“No Ju, I’m cool. You go.”

Knowing that my bestie wasn’t feeling him, I politely yelled that she was cool.

We quitted clowning and began walking up the street to our destination, but you couldn’t tell some niggas shit! The Charger zoomed to the curb and the dude in the passenger seat hopped out and walked towards us.

“Man, shawty in the red, come here.”

This time it was E that said she was cool. Maybe he felt some type of way because E looked just like a nigga.

His old, disrespectful ass had the nerve to say, “Bitch ass nigga, I ain’t talking to you.” Why’d he say that? We were ready to put our hands and feet on this nigga.

The driver must have sensed that his boy was about to be fucked up because he slowly stepped out of the car. Once his foot hit the pavement, my breath got caught up in my throat. This man had God’s hands on him. He had to be at least six’ two”, with a complexion that was so smooth and chocolaty. His dreads were neat and his razor lining was fresh. He kept it simple in an all-white, Gucci linen short set with pair of Gucci high-tops to match.

Too bad that he was going to get his fine ass fucked up too if he wanted to play,
Captain-Save-A-Nigga
!

“So you wanna be a disrespectful ass nigga?” I said, all up in his face. Out of nowhere, ReRe’s crazy ass snatched me back and pushed him against the Charger with her blade to his neck. I mean damn, fuck the small talk, right?

“Hey Shawty, hold up a minute!” His voice was even better than I expected. He walked up to ReRe and calmly placed his hand on her arm, while saying in the most sexist voice ever, “Lil Mama, my boy can be a fool at times. He didn’t mean no harm talking the way he was talking. I mean, can you blame him; you tight!”

“Fuck that! This motha fucker needs to know when to show some respect!”

“True, but let me handle my homie.”

The dude from the passenger seat stood there with a smug-ass look on his face. He wasn’t struggling or anything. The sick bastard looked as if he was enjoying the shit, for real.

BOOK: My Besties: The Come Up
5.12Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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