TOMMIE (COMPLETED)

FIVE

Stevie left Tia's to meet up with Scrapp. Hoping he would run into Tommie again, he became a permanent fixture at Tia's house, and she loved it.

She cleared space around the house for his stuff, but he played it from day to day. She could tell he was hesitant to move in, but she felt it would only be a matter of time before he was all hers.

Tommie wasn't in Scrapp's everyday conversation anymore, so Stevie assumed they were done before anything really began. It sickened him to hear Scrapp talk about her.

Tommie was meant for him. Scrapp had bitches chasing behind him every minute of the day, so why Tommie? Stevie wasn't giving up on her; Scrapp would just have to understand.

Stevie pulled up as Scrapp was parking his car. After crossing the street, he ran through Stevie's immaculately cut grass to get to the front door. Water drops reflected the light as the sun shined down.

"Ay, nigga. You could've gone around."

"Fuck this grass. My shoes got wet," Scrapp said wiping off his white $200 huaraches.

Making their way inside, Stevie closed the garage. His house looked like a showroom. Between the out of town business trips, and the flocks of women he kept, he was rarely ever home.

Before stepping foot on the Italian-imported carpet, Scrapp took off his shoes. He'd known Stevie long enough to know the procedure.

After taking off his shoes, Scrapp went into the living room and turned on the fifty-inch flat screen. The TV blared as Stevie sparked up a blunt and searched around for the remote.

"You tryna get on this Madden?" he asked passing Scapp the weed.

"Naw, I'm good." Scrapp cracked open the bottle of Hennessy. The dark brown liquid burned his insides, but he continued to guzzle the bottle. As he caressed his escape, the blunt burned and ashes fell on Scrapp's jeans.

Stevie sunk into his Franchesca sofa focusing on his NFL tournament. He only pulled himself away to hit the bottle or hit the blunt. Feeling the effects of the alcohol and weed mix, Scrapp finally began to relax. Tommie's disappearing act and the situation with Jessica had him on edge.

"Blood, you remember that one bitch, Jessica?"
Scrapp asked watching the virtual football players run across the seeming realistic field.

"The one with the pink hair and big booty?"

"Yeah, I was fucking with her for a hot second, and then she started fucking on that nigga Dro."

"Yeah, yeah, ok," Stevie said ashing the blunt. The weed had his head spinning.

"So I'm at the store, and I see her. I wasn't paying the bitch no attention, so she calls herself being mad. Tell me why when I came outside, she was in my car. I had to snatch her ass up. She caused a big-ass scene. I shouldn't have even done all that. Her crazy-ass loves that shit. Man, I don't see why I always attract all the fatals. On God," Scrapp said swallowing a mouthful of Hennessy.

Stevie sat back laughing at Scrapp's misery.
"Nigga, it ain't funny. I wouldn't be surprised if she called the boys."

Suddenly, Scrapp's phone started to ring. He slowly reached down into his pocket as the rings became louder and louder. He tried to focus on the number, but everything was blurred.