The sun had just faded and I was high as hell and needed to put somethin’ on my stomach, so I found myself back in the kitchen like I ain’t just spend earlier actin’ like I ain’t want none of this food.
I stood in front of the microwave waitin’ on my plate to heat up, watchin’ that shit spin slow while I leaned on the counter. The smell was back, stronger now that it was heatin’ up again.
Right when the timer was about to go off, I heard Sha’Nelle’s voice behind me.
“Yeah… for you to act like you ain’t want no plate, you sure in here heatin’ up my damn food like you put in on it.”
Her voice came smooth but with that lil’ bite to it, and I ain’t even turn around right away. I just smirked to myself like she ain’t say nothin’.
“Man, this ain’t even for me,” I said, calm as hell.
She let out this dry laugh like she couldn’t even believe I fixed my mouth to say that.
“Whatever,” she said, stretchin’ the word out before movin’ past me.
I finally turned my head just enough to watch her, and yeah… she had changed out that swimsuit, but it ain’t make shit no better. She had on some shorts that fit her just right and a lil’ top that ain’t do nothin’ but remind a nigga what was under it. Her hair was still up, a lil’ messy now, but that shit worked for her.
She went to the freezer, grabbed the ice, and started pourin’ up.
I leaned back against the counter, watchin’ her for a second. “You ain’t tired yet?”
She ain’t even look at me. “Of what?”
“That,” I said, noddin’ toward her cup. “Yo’ ass drinkin’ like it’s goin’ outta style.”
She looked at me, her brows pinchin’ together like I had some nerve.
“Renza, please,” she said. “You, Pressure, and Kay’Lo drink way worse than me, so don’t start.”
I huffed out a laugh. “That ain’t got nothin’ to do with you.”
“It do if you speakin’ on me,” she shot right back, takin a sip.
Then she squinted at me a lil’, like she was studyin’ me. “Matter fact… I know yo’ kidneys tired. I wouldn’t even be surprised if yo’ piss look like a mimosa.”
“Man, get the fuck outta here,” I said, shakin’ my head but laughin’ anyway.
She smirked like she knew she hit.
“See, that’s yo’ problem,” she went on, settin’ the bottle down. “You always got somethin’ to say about somebody.”
I grabbed my plate when the microwave went off and opened it, lettin’ the heat hit my face. “That ain’t my problem. That’s a gift.”
She shook her head. “You need somebody that can get with you, that’s what you need.”
I looked up at her then with the fork in my hand, and held her eyes for a second longer than I meant to.
“Girl,” I said slow, “Be quiet.”
She ain’t back down though. She just lifted her cup and took another sip like she ain’t hear nothin’ threatenin’ in my tone at all.
“You be quiet before I take that plate and throw it in the trash,” she said, cuttin’ her eyes at my food.
I smirked, leanin’ back just a lil’, still holdin’ my fork.
“Go ‘head then,” I said, calm as hell. “Throw it away.”
She ain’t move.
