California Love (Urban 90s Book*1)

#5.2

**Monday, May 2nd, 1993

**"Your crazy." Yazmine said, while throwing a piece of shrimp at the side of Tupac's head. He straight faced her while throwing a fry in her hair.

  "Ewww, gross!" Yazmine yelled while throwing the fry out of her hair.

  "That's what the fuck you get." Tupac said bluntly. It slightly turned her on but in this case, she had to be serious.

  "Let God handle my karma, not you." He waved her off, then pulled her by her thighs, into his lap.

  "How's the job?" Yazmine asked with a huge smile plastered across her face. Tupac raised his eyebrow.

  "I qui- I mean, It's okay."

  "Good. I don't wanna have to beat your bosses ass." Tupac and Yaz shared a laugh before packing the food up, and putting it up in Yazmine's mini fridge.

Tupac walked over to Yazmine, and snaked his arms around her waist. She giggled while wrapping her arms around his neck, and gently kissing his lips softly. She could feel his hard erection rub against her, as they shared a heated make out session. Tupac grabbed her face, while moving away slowly. Yazmine rolled her eyes.

   "Really? Baby, I thought you said today you was gonna make l-"

  "I'm sorry Yaz. I got something I need to do. I'll see you tomorrow aight?"

  Yazmine poked out her bottom lip, while letting go of his grasp.

   "Alright babe. Be safe." Yazmine pecked his bottom lip and walked him to the door.

  "Tomorrow Yaz."

  "You promise?"

  "I promise." They twisted pinkies and Tupac left the dorm.

  He sighed as he walked out of the college and made his way to his car. He was keeping his real job he made from Yazmine and it hurt him to do so. But he knew if she figured out what he was doing, then she would be upset, and disappointed. But he had to do what he had to do. He needed money badly.

  Tupac pulled into his neighborhood, and just before he turned into the complex, he parked on the side of the rode. Put his hoodie over his head, and ran down a dark alley.

    The smell of Mary Jane hit his nose, as he looked around seeing everyday products of the hood. Prostitutes, Pimps, Drug Addicts and last but not least. The one he had became. Drug dealers.

  Tupac knocked on the door of an old friends, waiting for an answer.

  "Yo, who the fuck is this?" Tupac sighed before stuffing his hands deep down in his pockets.

  "Pac, mane."

   The door slowly opened, and Tupac slid in only to be pushed against the door with a gun to his head. It was procedure, so he wasn't scared. Once he recognized him he smirked and let go of him.

  "Tupac, Tupac, Tupac. My man, what's happening baby?" They dapped up before sharing a brief bro hug. Tupac pulled away then stuffed his hands back into his pockets.

  "You got the m-"

  Before he could even finish his sentence, he pulled out a bag of money and dropped it into his big hand. A satisfied smile plastered across his face, although he was disappointed in himself.

  "Damn man! This the most I got this fucking week!" A weak smile stretched across the drug lords face.

  He handed Pac a bag before giving Pac his well earned money.

  "Be back with my money later man." He licked his bottom lip, while gripping the broken doorknob.

  "Fasho." Tupac left while speed walking towards the corner. Thoughts were running across his mind rapidly.

   He wasn't scared, but he wasn't completely brave. He knew deep inside that selling drugs wasn't something he wanted to amount to in life. He wanted to escape the hood. Not simmer into it. But Tupac desperately needed the money. So he had no choice.

  A drunken, woman seductively grabbed his collar. With a wide smile. She was clearly high off of something far stronger than weed.

  "How about you spend the night with me? Your cute, so I'll give you a discount or maybe for free." Tupac aggressively broke from her hold.

  "Nah ma, Ion roll like that. Your ass prolly' got the clap or some shit." The woman rolled her eyes, while puffing on a cigarette once more, as Tupac made his way out of the alley.

  "Fuck you, motherfucker!" She yelled, echoing through the quiet alley."

   Tupac chuckled under his breath before finally making it to the corner. He stood up against the brick wall waiting. His eyes closed, settling into the smells of his surroundings.

  Feeling someone close to him, he kept his eyes closed. 

  "Nigga you got my money.?" He eerily whispered before slowly opening his eyes. The mysterious man dapped him up, passing the money in his hand. Tupac examined it, then placed it in his pocket, while giving him the product.

  "Thank y-"

  Guilt took over Tupacs actions and he sighed, abruptly cutting him off.

  "Just get the fuck up out my face man." The mystery man ran from out the corner, leaving Tupac there.

   Customers flocked him for the rest of the hour, leaving Tupac stuck in his guilt and shame.

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