FIFTEEN
RICH
“B wantedme to tell you the chili done.” I tap one of the wooden posts on the deck behind Beatrice’s house and drag my fingers along the wood I still need to stain while walking down the steps.
A cloud of smoke dances around Wendell’s shiny head as he looks out toward the gazebo in the backyard.
He flicks his cigarette to the ground. “Mhmm. I take it you already ate, huh?”
“If I did, is something wrong with that?”
“If it was, I’d say somethin about it.”
“Oh, you would?”
“Right…I forgot what street I’m on,” he mutters when I get to the last step. “I guess it’d be stupid of me to feel offended that another man eats first in my girlfriend’s house.”
He swipes his bald head, turning it from side to side like he’s surveying the long blades of grass in the backyard. I ease up behind him right when he snorts.
I was always taught to sneak a man if I needed to because there’s no real rules in life. Smitty always said they were allmade up—created by white men to keep dumb niggas under their thumb. I don’t wanna sneak Wendell, though. I don’t even wanna fight him because I always told Beatrice I’d do my best to not disrespect her house, and I kept promising Arnez I’d stop disrupting Melo’s “ecosystem” even though he disrupted mine first. And just like that, I had turned into one of those dumb niggas me and Smitty laughed at—the ones that follow made-up rules. He said Kenny would rub off on me eventually.
“Girlfriend?” I ask. “Oh, you and B made it official?”
“I thought we did something like that—thought I’d finally be able to get you to stop sniffin around here.” Wendell snorts.
“I don’t know what you talking about man.”
“Right…” He puffs out his cheeks. “So this how it goes, huh?”
“Howwhatgoes?”
“You know, I always hear niggas talking about what it’s like to get out in the field with you—either in the pit at Lucky’s or in the street. They all say the same thing. They say that first hit is a haymaker—like a fuckin two-ton rock ramming into your jaw at full speed.”
“I don’t know about all that. B just told me she thought it was best you left, so that’s what I came to tell you. She said she’ll even fix you some food to go.”
He laughs hard. “My last meal, huh?”
I walk up beside him, shrugging. “Your last one here.”
“Bitch ain’t even cook what I like. Even niggas in the pen get what they like for their last meal.”
“Don’t do that.”
He turns to me and jerks his head back. “Do what?”
“Call B out her name.”
“Nigga, don’t act like you don’t go around here calling these bitches what they are. As many as you dropping your dick off in, I’m surprised you don’t call ‘em bitch one, bitch two, bitchthree…all of Pup’s bitches.” He pokes his finger up, like he’s pointing them all out in a lineup. “You really are a fuckin dog.”
I snort out a laugh, swiping the side of my nose. “Man, you trippin…”
He widens his eyes and slaps his chest. “I’m trippin?Me? A motherfucka walking around my house calling the shots and fuckin my lady and I’m the one trippin?”
“This ain’t your house, Wendell.”
“What you mean it ain’t my house?”
I hold my hands up. “I’m just stating the facts.”
