Girls From da Hood 14

The crowd at the pool party was dwindling, and we’d kicked back in the late-evening sun drinking margaritas and playing around in the water for a few hours. Neither Carla nor Roxy had ever resurfaced, so my mood had gone bittersweet. Taking this as an opportunity to talk with Jazz alone about what was more serious than any of them, I wasted no more time.

“Have you talked to your cousin yet?” I questioned Jazz again, wanting to stay consistent because, at one point, this boat ride and vacation would conclude. I’d found it odd she hadn’t brought him up.

“He called me earlier, so everything should still go as planned. You’re worrying too much about something I already told you I’d take care of.” She blew me off again, refusing to hook me up with his name or number. Something was telling me to lay off and come up with another game plan . . . just in case. Jazz didn’t seem too reassuring.

“All right, girl, I won’t bring it up again. It’s just that if I don’t get up with him for a new identity, Mike Mike won’t have any problem tracking me down. That just can’t happen.” I kept it real. “If he finds me, you’ll be burying your girl, and I ain’t holding you up on that.”

“Trust me, I know. Your problems have become my problems.” Jazz’s last comment was snide and hurtful since she held all my darkest secrets, and she was tighter with me than Roxy. Above and beyond all that, she’d created problems that weren’t even on my plate by encouraging me to steal from my deranged, unstable-ass boyfriend.

I let her words be the last of that topic, and the final time I’d share a heartfelt moment with her. As many times as I’ve been her shoulder when some anti-gay activist ran up on her, having her crying and hating the world, she had some nerve to act like I was intruding on her personal space. I wasn’t about to trip or blow it out of proportion, though. Hopefully, she’d just come through when it counted for sure.

“The real thing you need to be concerned about, though, is Carla.” Here she went again changing the subject. I swear to God if she didn’t come through, I was going to kick her ass. I’d blown hella money, making her birthday unforgettable and her wardrobe ten times better. If I’ve wasted my get-right money on her lying ass, it was going to be hell to pay, for sure. I had to let it go and move on, for now, anyway.

“Um, well, since she hasn’t come back, maybe I have blown it with her. You know how us girls get.”

“Naw, she’s probably teaching you a lesson for playing hard to get. You heard Tyrell. She gets pussy and money. It’s nothing for her to be pressed so hard on you.”

“Then there’s no reason for me to be pressing so hard for her.” I got cocky, pointing at my body to prove the point.

“Miami breeds bodies. Look around. I suggest if you’re truly feeling her, not to stunt for us—well, Roxy’s old hating ass anyway. I already know what’s up.”

“Whatever. We’ll see what’s up. Come on, let’s go back to the room to get ready for the next event on the agenda.”

“I already know what’s up, girl. I’m just waiting on your slow-acting ass to catch up. We can bounce. Ain’t no way my ass gonna show up late to a drag queen show.” Getting up, we made a beeline for the room. I was ready to blow a blunt and chill out for a few before heading to the Captain’s Party. The sun had beat me down, and I was a little more than salty my woman crush hadn’t come back to check for me.

I was so tired of being caught up in the middle of drama. Between the rocky relationship of Mike Mike and Sable, and the low-key cheating shit with Mike Mike and Roxy, and now this pop-up girl, Carla, everyone seemed to have something crazy going on that I had a hand in. You’d think with it being my birthday, the light would be on me. Coming to Miami was turning out to be a bust. And trying to help my girl was starting to look like it was going to blow up in my face. Once again, I had to deflect the topic and pray on the inside that my cousin wanted to look out for her. Paradise truly wasn’t what I expected it to be. Craps out.

The 1800 and uncountable nuts I let loose to the thoughts of finally being a moneymaker’s girl had put me out cold. Hearing laughter and the door lock being rammed back and forth woke me up. I leaped up from my come-induced sleep to Jazz and Sable, trying to get in. With the bullet and bottle in hand, I slammed the safe shut, tossed the toy into my bag, and flew to open the door. I’d have to find a time to get back for my pain and suffering payout before the money made its way back to Mike Mike. I didn’t look at it as stealing—after all, Sable would take all the blame for any stolen dollars.

“Damn, my bad. I was in here drinking, trying to get right for tonight. I didn’t want anyone to walk in on a bitch drunk and passed out,” I half-lied, really bolting the room down while I searched for Mike Mike’s stolen cash.

“Oh yeah, my bad earlier when I came at you about your weave. I know it’s hard out here without a sponsor.” Sable tried to throw shade my way again, snidely looking innocent like she’d done nothing wrong.

“Don’t worry about it, friend. Sometimes, it is what it is.” I took her under-the-belt shots now because later, I would laugh at her demise. Mike Mike was going to take her out of the game, and with pride, I’d be the one to help him. She looked at me oddly but didn’t reply to my comment. Remembering what my boo asked of me earlier, I had to keep cool and play my position.

“Well, give me that bottle. I need to get where you’re at.” She snatched the 1800 and walked toward the closet. Then she proceeded to get drunk, tilting it up, spilling some over on herself and the bathing suit I’d claim in a few hours.