Street (Urban Fiction)

Chapter Ten

For the past couple of weeks, everyone had been studying. Well, I could only speak for myself. Finals were coming up and Jordan was getting tougher on me, so when I wasn’t in school my time was spent working out, fighting, or in a book.

I had finally gotten a phone. Momma wasn’t too happy about it, mainly because it wasn’t her money that bought it and her money wasn’t going to be paying for it every month. Ever since she and Marcus divorced, she tried not to depend on anyone and instilled the same principles in us. I, on the other hand, was ecstatic. I never knew how addictive a phone could be until I spent two hours with my own.

“Damn Risha slow down. When did you get so fast?” Jordan panted behind me.

“When my trainer left me behind and threatened to have me run five extra laps for lagging behind,” I replied with a steady voice. My breathing was even; in through my nose, out through my mouth. I felt like I knew everything there was to know about the neighborhood.

All the activities that went on; who did what; who lived where; which cops I had to look out for; which roads lead where; the best escape routes; dead ends; people who were barely home; the drug addicts; and who ran routes during certain times and days. I decided to put Jordan out of his misery and slowed down to a slow jog and allowed him to catch up.

From the corner of my eye I noticed a pretty, slim girl walking towards a police car. She didn’t look like she was too far from my age, give or take one or two years. Her hair was in big curls and she wore a bold red lipstick. I guessed that was supposed to add on to the sex appeal. I trailed my eyes from her to the car she was walking to. There was a cop, in police uniform, leaning on it. Geez, those guys were either bold, or thought the no snitching rule applied to them too.

He looked rather young. Not young in the sense that he looked my age, but young for an officer. I wouldn’t guess him to be past twenty five and that was being generous. He fit the blond haired, blue eyed cliché. His entire left arm had a big tribal tattoo that ran from his bicep are to the tip of his knuckles. He didn’t even look shocked at the fact that she was approaching, like she was a regular.

“I swear if that’s how you end up I’m killing you before the lifestyle does," Jordan spoke from my side. I didn’t reply. Half of me felt bad for her, and then started judging her, but the other half, it said who was I to knock her hustle, so I just committed their faces to memory and continued jogging home.

I had spent the next day studying and that entire night, cramming as much as I could for my biology exam and finally fell asleep at 3 in the morning. Usually, I would have stayed up  but I knew it was a losing battle so I just gave in. My body was already sore from my work out the previous day and I was also mentally exhausted. Given that, you can imagine how upset I was when my alarm rang and it felt like I had just fallen asleep.

I rolled over groggily and tried to open my heavy lids. "Damn, it’s six already?” I asked out loud. I ran a hand across my face and tried to wake myself up before grabbing my phone off the charger and realizing two things. It wasn't six and my alarm wasn’t going off.

"Hello?" I struggled to find my voice.

"Yo, Risha?"

"What the hell Trey? It’s 4;30 in the morning. If I wasn’t so tired I'd- I'd-"

"You'd what?" He taunted.

"Man what you want? It’s too damn early for this," I complained.

"I need to run some things by you before school starts," he started.

"Trey, I don’t smoke weed and I’m not testing out your new shipment."

"What? No man, I-"

I knew that whatever Trey wanted was stupid so I cut him off again. “I'm not helping you pimp out young girls in the neighborhood, though I hear it’s a pretty lucrative-"