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___________________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐
I'm so sick of these bitches always tryna play social club, bringing new hoes around us like we ain't already at max capacity. Big Four turned Big Six, and I ain't vote for no damn expansion pack. And why the hell they always wanna hotbox the car? Like damn, how much of my lungs y'all tryna burn out? Enough with them damn flavored cigarettes. Peach, mango, menthol—girl, I'm choking over here.
And don't even get me started on Nalani and Amare. These two swear up and down they slick, acting like we don't see them sneaking little kisses and passing the blunt like some damn lovebirds. Freaky ass. We all pretending not to notice, but everybody peeped. I just ain't saying nothing 'cause I'm minding my business, unlike everybody else.
Now here go Kaliyah, tryna act brand new, being all nice and hospitable and shit. Letting these extra bodies sleep over like Nalani and Amare ain't already enough. Bitch, who told you to turn this into a damn slumber party? Sick of the bullshit.
"That's a pretty tattoo," the new girl said, pointing at my ribs. I mean, at least this one's chill. Real soft girl vibes. But her friend? That bitch been mugging all night, and I'm this close to saying something.
"Thanks," I said, smirking. "That shit hurt, though."
"What does it mean?" she asked, all innocent and curious.
"It's what my grandpa used to say when folks got their ass beat in fights," I said with a shrug.
Her eyes lit up as she read it out loud. "'Gots to be more careful.' That's funny as hell."
I nodded, but I was already peeping her friend throwing daggers with her eyes. It's whatever, though. She better keep them thoughts in her head 'cause if she wanna pop off, we can.
"Nalani and Amare, stop that gay-ass shit," Kaliyah said, turning around to look at them. She always gotta call it out loud, making everybody laugh like she the class clown.
Then her mugging-ass friend turned her sights on me, outta nowhere. "Why you looking at me like that?" she snapped, attitude on full display.
"Bitch, like what?" I shot back, raising an eyebrow.
"I don't know, just weirdly," she said, folding her arms like she did something.
"Girl, I wasn't even looking at you," I said, rolling my eyes.
"Oh, okay," she muttered, trying to backtrack.
"Bitch, who you checking?" Kaliyah asked, leaning forward, her tone ice cold. The whole car went silent. Lil mama didn't say shit after that. Thought so.
I swear, I'll never understand why these hoes wanna beef with the person driving the damn car. Like, do you know what I'm capable of? I'll wreck this shit so quick and make sure your ass flies through the windshield. Or better yet, leave your door unlocked, hit a hard turn, and watch you tumble out onto the highway right when an 18-wheeler's coming. And when your face get scraped off the pavement, don't be mad at me. Open casket? Nah, boo, closed forever. Play with me if you want to.
"What you thinking about?" Kaliyah asked, side-eyeing me from the passenger seat.
"Nothing," I said, laughing to myself. She don't need to know I was plotting vehicular homicide in my head.
I pulled out my phone to distract myself and saw a TikTok notification from Nalani. It was a video of Kayla talking shit, saying, "Smoke me if you want, Pisces." The caption read, "My pieces crash-out friend."
I snorted. "Kayla so real, but I'm not no Pisces."
"You ain't no crash-out either," Kaliyah said, side-eyeing me. "Stop letting these hoes lie on your name."
"No lies detected," I said, shaking my head. I'll never understand why people brag about being a crash-out. Like, what's cute about ruining your life for nothing? Jail ain't a flex, babes. Grow up.
I was scrolling through my timeline, minding my business, when a loud knock on my window scared the shit outta me. My first instinct was to roll it down—big mistake. I should've hit the gas and peeled out, but we in Crip territory. They'd light my car up before I made it two blocks.
"Yo," a voice said.
"Hello?" I replied, confused as hell. A dude was standing there, looking shady as fuck.
"Y'all know a nigga named Rara?" he asked.
Oh, hell nah. Raheem, you messy-ass nigga. When I catch you, it's on sight. This is why you don't hang with them banger kids. Always bringing heat your way.
I glanced at Kaliyah and Amare, trying to figure out how to play this. Before I could say something dumb, Kaliyah stepped up, her voice calm and steady. "Nah, we don't know him."
Smart answer. If it were up to me, I'd have said, "Yeah," and gotten us all shot.
"Bet," he said, nodding. "Let me get one of y'all numbers, though. All y'all look good."
We all looked at the soft girl, the nice one. Her face went pale like she'd seen a ghost. Poor thing, I felt bad for her, but she was giving "about to fold" energy. We couldn't have that.
"N—" she started to say, but we snatched her phone so quick, she didn't even finish the word. Rule number one: don't reject a hood nigga to his face. They don't handle rejection well, and I wasn't about to see this girl laid out in a parking lot tonight.
Kaliyah handed the phone back after dude put his number in, and we watched him walk off. The second he was outta sight, I hit the gas, speeding outta there like I was in a Fast & Furious movie.
"You dumb as hell," Kaliyah said, turning to the soft girl. "Why you even say something?"
"I—I didn't know what to do!" she stammered, looking on the verge of tears.
"Girl, you better learn real quick," Amare chimed in, shaking her head. "This ain't Disney World."
"Exactly," I said, gripping the wheel. "Out here looking like fresh meat."
The car got quiet for a second, everybody just taking in what happened. Then Kaliyah broke the silence with a laugh.
"I can't believe you was really gon' tell him no," she said, shaking her head. "You lucky we saved your ass."
"I didn't mean to!" the girl whined, her voice shaky.
"Well, now you know," I said, glancing in the rearview mirror. "Next time, keep your mouth shut and let us handle it."
