Chapter 2
Baby strutted through the doors with a smile and a sassy attitude. She walked through the metal detector without any incident from the alarm going off. She was clear for any weapons or contraband. She smiled at the tall guard with the security wand in his hand. He stared at Baby’s racy attire. His eyes focused on the scanty shorts revealing the camel-toe imprint between her legs, and he lusted at her shapely and long legs. The petite and shapely high school student had him hypnotized for a short moment. Baby smiled at him and said, “Why you staring at me so hard, Marvin? You like what you see?”
Marvin waved her off and replied, “You know you’re late, Baby.”
“And?” Baby replied, rolling her eyes.
“Eighth time this month that you’ve been late.”
“It’s my birthday, Marvin. You ain’t gonna wish me a happy birthday?”
“Happy birthday,” Marvin replied dryly. “But you know after a certain time, I’m not allowed to let you into this school.”
“But I’m here now, so what’s the problem? And besides, you know you gonna let me in anyway; you like lookin’ at all this. I be makin’ ya fuckin’ day when you see me move through these halls lookin’ this fine,” she commented harshly. “You wanna fuck me, Marvin?”
Marvin shook his head. He kept his composure. “You’re a mess, Baby. But eighteen or not, you’re still a little girl, and have a lot of growing up to do.”
“Whatever, nigga ... Let me just go to the office, get my late pass, and be on my way. You probably gay anyway, and can’t handle this pussy even if I gave you a chance to hit it.”
“This is my last warning to you, Baby. If you’re late like this again, I’m not letting you into this school,” he warned.
Baby smiled. “We’ll see.” She strutted by him, switching her hips and flaunting her sexuality in front of the safety officer. He took a quick glance and shook his head. Baby continued toward the main office to receive her late pass for class. The only reason she decided to come to school was because she wanted to flaunt for her birthday and see her girls. And, someone owed her money. She pranced into the office and exclaimed, “I need a late pass.”
The office staff stared at Baby with contempt. This was nothing new for them. Baby was one of a few problem students in the school, and they’d had their share of her wild antics over the years from the fights and attitude. They were still surprised that she was a student at August Martin. There were plenty of moments when she was at risk of being expelled. But, she had nine lives. It, supposedly, was her senior year, but graduation for her was still far off and farfetched.
One of the staff walked over to Baby. She had no words for the young child. Baby stared at her impatiently and said, “C’mon, Mrs. Jerry, I ain’t got all day.”
“Then why bother coming to school at all?” she asked.
“Shit, what else am I gonna do? I’m the life of this school.”
Mrs. Jerry shook her head in shame and quickly wrote Baby a late pass to her second period class. Baby snatched the note from her hands without so much as saying a thank you to the lady. Mrs. Jerry watched her sashay out of the office and said, “That child is going to end up either pregnant or dead one day.”
Baby stormed into her second period English class, handed the teacher her late pass, and marched toward the back of the classroom, interrupting Mr. Thompson’s lecture on structuring a paragraph. For a short moment, all the attention was on her. She was rude. She looked around for her friends, but they weren’t in the classroom. Baby figured that she was probably the only dumb one to come to school on her birthday. She didn’t plan on staying long, though.
Mr. Thompson stared at Baby and exclaimed, “It’s nice of you to finally join us, Ms. Rice.”
“You know it’s my birthday today, so I needed to make an entrance,” she replied.
“Like you do every day, or on the days that you actually decide to show up to school,” whipped Mr. Thompson.
“Ya funny, Mr. Thompson, I’m sayin’ ... Go on and teach; don’t let me stop you. I’m here to learn, right ...” she replied with sarcasm. “I’ma sit back here and look cute, but I’m still learning somethin’ ... but you should be learning from me.”
There was an eruption of laughter from the class. Mr. Thompson didn’t find her comment or humor funny. He glared at Baby and said, “Life is not a game, Ms. Rice. You need to understand that.”
“Whatever, just teach somethin’, Mr. Thompson, and I’ma sit here and pretend like I’m listening, a’ight!” Baby hissed back.
Mr. Thompson didn’t want to spend too much time arguing with Baby. He didn’t want to show her the attention that she always craved. He walked toward the chalkboard and continued with his lesson.
Baby slouched in her seat and looked around the classroom. She noticed a certain hard look trained on her. It was coming from Erica. The two hated each other. Baby cut her eyes back at Erica, smirked, and tossed up her middle finger, showing that she wasn’t intimidated by the stare.
The two girls had had an ongoing beef for months. It was over J. Rock. He supposedly was Erica’s man, but Baby had no problem fucking him occasionally—and J. Rock didn’t have a problem showing Baby intimacy and splurging his ill-gotten wealth on her, when Erica was his girlfriend. Baby didn’t hide the fact that she and J. Rock were fucking. Her mouth ran slick like oil throughout the hood, and she wanted to make Erica jealous. She hated how Erica flaunted herself, always bragging about her family being in the music business like they were the Jacksons.
Erica’s older brother, Sean, used to be in a famous rap group back in the late nineties and he became somewhat of a success with his producing and acting in a few films. The family came into some wealth, and Erica was living off of her brother’s success. She had everything she needed: money, clothes, and even a car. She walked around the school like she was a diva, and Baby hated it. Baby always felt that Erica was a fake bitch, and was too stuck-up to be with a man like J. Rock. They came from two different worlds; J. Rock was rugged, while Erica was the Whitley Gilbert of the school when it came to having money. But the difference was that Erica knew how to throw down, and was able to hold her own in a fight; she was nowhere like a Whitley Gilbert. She ran with a wild crew of girls who called themselves Live Divas, or L.D. girls for short. And, over the past few months, the Triple P girls had bumped heads with the Live Divas, and gotten into a few physical confrontations inside and outside of the school.
Baby and Erica glared at each other. Baby hated the way Erica was staring at her. She became upset, and shouted, “Bitch, what the fuck you lookin’ at?”
“You, you stupid fuckin’ bitch!” Erica shouted. “You a fuckin’ slut, bitch!”
“Bitch, that’s why I just fucked ya man this morning fo’ my birthday. What the fuck you gonna do about it?” Baby shouted.
Both girls jumped out of their seats and were ready to clash with each other. Mr. Thompson spun around and instantly got between the two girls. He knew about their history and had warned them many times about interrupting his class sessions. But the girls didn’t care; they were ready to tear into each other with hatred and disrespect and were far from worried about a suspension from school.
“Sit down,” Mr. Thompson screamed at both girls. “Not in my damn classroom. Do you two ladies hear me?”
The class had gotten riled up and was ready to see a fight take place. But Mr. Thompson quickly regained order. He wasn’t having any disorder in his room. He stood over six feet tall and outweighed both girls easily. He was a black man from a poverty-stricken ghetto, also. He was able to relate to many of his students. He hated violence, was about unity with his kids, and he hated to see black students fight each other over foolishness. It really upset him that many of his students didn’t take getting an education seriously.
“Fuck her, Mr. Thompson. I’m sick of that bitch,” Baby exclaimed.
“You a dirty bitch, Baby. I swear, I’ma see you!” Erica retorted.
“See me then, bitch!”
Mr. Thompson had both girls sit down and then he shouted, “What is wrong with y’all? Y’all supposed to be sisters.”
Baby sighed and retorted, “That bitch ain’t no sister of mines. Mr. Thompson, save that family, African-pride shit for someone else who cares. Don’t bring that shit my way.”
“There’s always a problem with y’all two, but I’m not having that nonsense in my classroom.”
“Then we just gonna take it somewhere else,” replied Baby.
“It’s sickening ... Two beautiful young women wanting to fight and destroy each other ... and over what, a boy!” he exclaimed. “How twisted can y’all be?”
Baby sighed and averted her attention from her English teacher. She stared out the window with a scowl, having her arms folded across her chest. She was itching to fight Erica. The anxiety that was bubbling inside of her was ready to explode.
Mr. Thompson went on to teaching his class and the conflict between the two girls was only postponed. A fight between them was inevitable.