“I’m gonna press charges on her fat ass?—”
“Don’t do that shit. Take that ass whoopin’ like a woman. Quit doin’ the fuckin’ most bruh,” I mugged her before stepping closer to her. “Let me look at you.”
She sucked her teeth before removing the blood-stained towel. I squinted my eyes. It looked much worse up close, but in a day or two it should heal. Her lip was busted and there was a gash above her eye.
“Am I still pretty?” she simmered down.
Biting down on my lip, I tilted my head to the side and gently cupped her chin. “Fine as fuck.”
Trecee was a bad little thing, one of the prettiest bitches in the south, but there were prettier. Those jaded thoughts kept her clouded long enough to think she was the only one. Her shaded butterscotch skin complexion was at its prettiest during the summertime. In the winter, her shade resembled some banana pudding. Trecee wasn’t thick like Synthia. Her shape was fun sized. She didn’t have the biggest ass in the world either, but it was enough to grip on.
“We got to put you in some boxing classes,” I joked with her, followed by a snicker.
“Yeah right. As big as she is, I needed Mimi so we could tag team her ass.”
“Right, but unlike you, Mimi knows better.”
She playfully punched me in the stomach. “What are you doing in South Memphis anyway?”
“I had to make a play. I don’t leave the hood and act funny like yo ass.”
“Whatever, nigga. What made you stop bythisway? That's what I meant.
“Damnnnn,” I scrunched my face jokingly. “You questionin’ me like you the Feds or sum’?”
“Because, when I texted you earlier, you didn’t respond to me.”
“If you must know, I stopped by Keisha’s house to pick up a plate of fried chicken.”
She started rolling her eyes and sucking her teeth again.
“See,” pointing at her, I shook my head, already peepingfishing her bullshit. “That’s why I didn’t want to say nothing.”
“It’s one thing to eat food, but it’s another thing to eat food from your ex.”
“Mane, I ain’t fuck that girl since the 12thgrade. She got a whole nigga, fuck I look like fuckin’ on ha? And you shouldn’t betoo quick to talk so much shit when you don’t cook. I got to eat ma ma.”
“I can fry some chicken though Rome.”
“I don’t know what you call it, but c’mon on. I need to handle some moe’ shit. Gone ahead and head home.”
She removed the towel from her face and placed it on the counter.
“Throw that shit in the trash. Don’t leave it out for them kids to find and make sure they eat and clean the rest of this nasty ass house before you dip out.”
Trecee put her hand on her bony hip. “Do I look like the maid?”
“Naw, but yo folks sleep here. Make sure they clean this nasty ass shit before you dip. Where ya mama at?” I dipped my head around the corner after stepping out of the bathroom. It was a three-bedroom, two-bathroom duplex.
“I don’t know,” she shrugged.
“C’mere man.” With my hand, I motioned her towards me and grabbed a handful of her ass as I pecked her forehead with a kiss. “Don’t be getting into no more fights, bruh.” The baby pink Gucci polo style dress had specks of blood on the front. I’d be sure to make a note to send it to the cleaners tomorrow morning.
“Fuck you.” She shot me the finger before I staggered through the small hallway and back into the kitchen, where her little brothers and sisters were still cleaning up their mess. Moriah was on the couch, sleeping, so before dipping out, I picked her up and carried her to the cleanest room in the house, pulled the covers back, and laid her down on the bed, while making sure to tuck her money from the tooth fairy under her pillow.
Mimi had busied herself with cleaning up the glob of blood on the porch like her life depended on it—scrubbing the steps with a sponge like it was crime scene evidence.
“Aye Mimi, don’t give yourself a hard time getting that shit up, you got a ride home? Where yo nigga at?”
