The Nine

Chapter 6.2: Coriana

My Jetta was brand new. Arnaud got it for me three weeks ago; he had shelled out a fortune on me since we met earlier this year. I mean I knew the pussy was bomb as fuck, but nigga damn! He done exhausted his life savings on a bitch. He paid my bills for the month, paid for my new sixteen inches, got me a car and a new wardrobe. Goddamn I loved a hustler; they knew how to spoil like none other.

It still baffled me how a man so great could be related to a bitch so basic.

Arnaud was the complete opposite of his half-sister. Whereas my man was light skinned with a good body, good sense of humor, big fat ass dick, and was about his money, Tammy was brown, built like SpongeBob, sensitive as the fuck, broke and busted with a demolition derby ass pussy. I remember she had let one of my side niggas raw her a while ago, and he came back and told me her pussy felt like the shit was under construction.
I laughed my ass off at the memory as I drove down the road.

I decided to go drive to see my mama. I ain't talk to her all week and she was fixing to chew my ass out about it.

She lived in the upper ninth ward where I grew up. The old house was the same as it had ever been: small, green, and homey. Pulling to a stop on side of the street, I saw my daddy mowing the lawn, sweat beads falling down his long, dark face. My mama was outside looking at me with her hands on her hips. Daddy waved at me as he continued his chore.

"Hey daddy," I said as I blew a kiss at him. I looked at mama and tried to hide a smile. She had her stank ass mad face on. "Hey ma. Wipe that look off my face, we look ugly when we make that face." I told her.

Mama was just like me, what with the big booty, the chocolate skin, and the attitude. Her naturally brown hair was done in that uglass auntie cut she liked so much and her glasses were grimy as hell.

"And where the hell you been? I ain't seen you in a while. I thought you mighta skipped town."

"I'm on my way out now, I just stopped by to say my final goodbyes," I joked as I hugged her and walked into the house. She followed behind me. The small house smelled like gumbo, which was strange because she didn't usually cook on Saturdays. She usually cooked on Sundays and me, my two sisters, and my brother would come over to eat. I had missed the last three Sunday dinners - I hadn't been to one since The Nine's EP dropped, which was a month ago and some change.

"Why you cooking? We not having Sunday dinner this week?" I asked as she trailed closely behind me and took a seat at the kitchen table.

"You mean why am I cooking?" I heard the shrill voice of my nineteen year old sister Junise ask. I looked over and saw her standing over the stove, babysitting the gumbo. She was the scrappiest of all the girls; even though she ain't inherit our signature ass, she still had a little shape to her. Her hair was glossy like she just got a fresh perm. Her pink halter top was stained with sweat.

"Hey JuJu," I greeted. "Look at you girl, in the kitchen putting ya wrists to work, tryna be like big sissy. What you doing here?"

"Wanda told me to come," she said with a smirk as mama's eyes widened. Rule number one of being a Parks: if you wanted to keep your tongue, you called mama and daddy nothing but mama and daddy. JuJu, as the youngest, always thought she could get slick with people.

"Girl, who?" My mom interjected. She threw her bundle of keys at JuJu and they landed on her thigh. "Where you get off calling me by my first name? You betta recognize. And we are having dinner baby, just a little earlier than usually, and I ain't wanna get up early in the morning to cook."

I laughed at JuJu glaring at mama. "Sister Poché said hey, ma."

"Vernita? I ain't talked to her in a couple days now."