“Tulane is pissed.” I wiped my hand over my mouth and shook my head. “Nigga called me going off. Like straight pissed.”
“I would’ve too,” Citrine said, nodding. “She did some Left Eye shit to his crib, and it’s all your fault.”
“Mine?” I cut my eyes to my brother. “How the hell is that shit my fault?”
“Did you not send her ass to him six months ago? How long did you think she was going to sit and not do shit? Nigga, thisis Yale we are talking about here. She might be quiet, but that doesn’t mean she’s wrapped too tight.”
“Hell, she can't be to have dealt with this nigga for this long,” Ex interjected with a laugh. “Not one of the women in our circle or tree, as Xoey likes to call it, is wrapped tight. The closest thing to normal we are going to get is Legacy, and I’m not even sure about her ass sometimes.”
“Nah, Legacy is normal,” I chuckled. “She just got with an unstable nigga who is over the top enough for him and her.”
“I’m glad you didn’t say Paxton,” Citrine said.
“Nigga, I know my woman is not wrapped too tight, which is why I love her ass. The fuck I look like having a woman who is calm and doesn’t carry a gun?” He shook his head. “That shit is boring.”
“Didn’t you take Paxton’s gun not too long ago?” I asked, and Ex shrugged.
“She got that shit back,” Citrine laughed as he ate his food. “She was with Lavender the other day, and I ran into them at the store. I knocked on the window, and I guess I scared them. Paxton pulled her shit out so fast and had it aimed at the window. She cussed my ass out, too, and all I could do was laugh at her. She did threaten my life a few times.” He pointed at Ex. “That girl is trigger-happy. Watch her ass.”
“Shouldn’t have tried to catch her off guard,” Ex replied with a grunt. “She ain’t scared to pull that trigger cuz she knows I’ma make that shit disappear.” He sat back and crossed his arms. “Her cussing you out was her way of showing you love.”
“She got out of the car, snatched me up like I was a little nigga, and dragged me to the back of the car. She went off on my ass so bad, and all I did was laugh; she called me a collection plate,” Citrine replied.
“Nigga, she called you what?” I laughed.
“A fucking collection plate,” Citrine answered, and I shook my head. “I was so damn stuck that all I could do was stand there and let her go off.”
“My nigga, that shit is so foul,” Ex said, shaking his head. “I apologize on my woman’s behalf because that was uncalled for.”
“It’s cool,” Citrine said, laughing. “If it were someone I didn’t know or didn’t fuck with, I would’ve snapped, but it was her, and I know she was going off for a reason. She was right, I shouldn’t have just walked up on her car without announcing myself. She apologized once she calmed down and then called me later and apologized again.”
“She called you a collection plate?” He asked again, and Citrine nodded. “I know that’s some shit Krude said.” Ex picked up his phone and called his cousin.
“Say it loud and proud, lil homie!” Krude yelled. The sound of kids yelling in the background echoed through the speaker. “What’s good, Ex?”
“Have you ever called Citrine a collection plate?” Ex asked him.
Krude laughed, “Wait, y’all hold on. Let me talk to Ex right fast.” The background noise got quiet, then Krude started laughing again. “Nigga, what did you say?”
“Do you call Citrine a collection plate?”
“Fuck yeah,” Krude answered. “All the damn time. Me and Paxton were shooting the shit the other day, and she mentioned him and King Beat Box.”
“That man has a name,” Ex said, shaking his head.
“I don’t like it,” Krude replied. “I call niggas what the Lord moves me to call them. Collection plate, King Beat Box, Murderer, Harlot, Heathen, Drug Dealer, Hell Raiser.”
“That shit is rude as fuck,” Ex said. “You’re making fun of a disability.”
“I’m embracing their differences,” Krude countered. “Now, why you on my phone questioning me like I ain’t over here collecting checks from minors.”
“You back to betting with them damn kids?” I asked with a laugh. “Nigga, didn’t Madea cuss your ass out about that shit a few days ago?”
“Look, it’s to keep their minds off the Judge and Sasha shit,” Krude said. “It ain’t even for that much. Just a band buy-in.”
“A band?” My face twisted while Ex and Citrine laughed. “That’s the same buy-in we have. How the hell are you taking that much money from those kids? Do they even have that much?”
“Shouldn’t be poor,” Krude replied. “Buy-in cost is universal around here. Now get off my phone so I can go collect.”
