Crack Baby

(5): "Laundromat Lullabies"

Ominous.

Assata grabbed the laundry basket and poured all of its content into the washing machine. She wiped the tears from her eyes causing her to forget that she was wearing mascara. The makeup smeared, creating a slope like shape on her pretty brown face.

She glanced down at her hand and cussed under her breath.

"Shit." She rolled her eyes and shook her head, not caring if she looked a mess or not. She placed a few quarters into the washing machine and pressed the start button. As soon as the machine started up, she sat on a nearby stool and listened aimlessly to the sound of the water filling the washer and sloshing around, mingling with the clothes.

Knock, knock.

Assata looked up towards the entrance.

"It's mad late. What you doing out here?"

Assata gestured towards the washing machine.

"Oh, washing clothes. Right." Hezekiah invited himself in and made himself comfortable. He was actually supposed to be running an errand for Nile but he'd just so happened to see Assata in the laundromat. He felt as though it was the perfect time to introduce his proposal.

Assata ignored him and indulged in her cell phone.

Hezekiah tucked his hands into his pockets and tried to think of something that'd initiate a good conversation. It was actually harder than he thought mainly because he'd never had to do so. Girls always seemed to flock to him. They always came to him or initiated a situation; it was never the other way around and he never necessarily went unnoticed when he walked in a room. Someone usually took heed.

"Can I help you with something?" Assata asked when she noticed he was just standing there aimlessly looking around and behaving lost.

"Actually, you can. I got a proposal."
"It's I have a proposal."
"I don't fuck with any police of any sort. Especially not the grammar police. Kill allat."
"Again, can I help you with something?" She said ignoring his statement.

"Ion really know how to come at you so ima just be straight up," He began. He licked his lips and looked at the ground, trying to think of what to say next.

"Well, uh, to be honest, you really beautiful and I wanna take you out."

Assata glared at him sarcastically, her face contorted into utter amusement.

"I've heard this more than once. What makes you different? Why should I entertain you?" She asked, truly interested in what he'd say now. She'd noticed, in the short time of speaking to him, that he always had a comeback for everything.

"First and foremost, I'm nothing like these niggas."

"Typical."

"Typical." He retorted, mocking Assata.

"That's a typical nigga line, if we're being honest, If we're being adults."

"Ard," He chuckled and rubbed the hairs on his chin thoughtfully, feeling a little defeated because she was absolutely right. Typical niggas said typical shit like that but it was true about him. Or at least he felt it was.