“My Uncle’s post-game wind down. You tryna come in or just drop off?”
“You tell me.”
She stepped aside, pulling his car door open, she leaned down to make eye contact. “Come chill with us.”
“You pulling out a nigga’s door and shit…you wild.”
Aku laughed loud, her voice echoing through the quiet neighborhood. “Oh, my Lord… God forbid a girl got manners.” She rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips.
Malik stared at her. She was so fine to him. He wanted to count the freckles on her face and remember how many it was, so he could use it like counting sheep when sleep was hard to find. Her laugh softened the noise in his chest, and the way she never tried too hard made her even badder. He made a mental note to himself that she was always fly. Aku probably woke up in cute shit. Meanwhile, he was a plain ol’ nigga in jeans and a hoodie.
Inside, Qamar and Siasia were in the back room talking low, probably about plays and family budgets. The kids had gone upstairs to watch something on the projector. Aku led Malik into the kitchen.
“Spot nice,” he said, setting the goods on the counter.
“Thanks but it’s a rental.”
“Shit still nice.” His brown eyes bounced around the room.
She checked the packaging. “You labeled everything?”
“Of course. I don’t trust people’s tolerance levels.”
“You assuming I’m lightweight?”
“Nah, I’m protecting my future clientele.”
She snorted. “So I’m a business risk now?”
“You a walking headline. I can’t have ‘Stylist collapses after Plugged In drop’ floating around.”
Aku nodded, pulling out a pre-rolled blunt. Digging in her purse, she flicked the lighter.
“You can smoke in here?”
“I don’t know,” her voice came out muffled as she inhaled the potent weed. “He got enough money to pay if we can’t.”
That made Malik pause. He wasn’t broke but never had enough money to waste just because someone wanted to break the rules. He was still tucked at his people’s house because he couldn’t afford to pay Pharaoh’s bills and get his own spot. It was a choice of this or that. And since Pharaoh couldn’t walk, Malik ate the sacrifice like it was dessert.
They sat on the couch. He leaned back like he’d been there before. She kicked off her shoes and tucked one leg underneath herself.
“You ever played soccer?” she asked, grabbing a bottle of water.
“Nah, I was a hooper. Still got a lil jumper on me.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it.”
“Next link, then,” he said. “You pick the park. I’ll bring the smoke.”
“I’mma bring a stretcher for your ankles.”
Malik laughed. “You talk spicy for somebody that weigh a buck twenty soakin’ wet.”
“I’m one twenty with an attitude.”
“Ten of them pounds from your big ass head,” he said, grinning.
She sucked her teeth and shook her head.
