“You and that big head ass brother of yours ain’t gone raise my blood pressure. Get out my face before I get my shoe!” She waved her hand dismissively, and I took that as my cue to scurry my ass to my room.Lying in bed that night, I let my mind wander. Dude wasn’t worth the crash out I had, but I had a point to prove. You don’t get to take my virginity and then ignore me. Like, what did his bean head ass think this was?! Then to have some bitch answer your door and turn around and call the police on me?
One thing was for sure, though, this was the last time I was letting a man get me outta character.
“Don’t no man want no crazy ass woman!” Nana often preached.
The thing is, I wasn’t crazy… I just also wasn’t the one to play with. And if anybody forgot, my .22 and I wouldn’t have a problem reminding them.
“I don’t know how you expect to find love acting like that,”Nana scolded one day. But the thing was, I wasn’t searching for it, and I didn’t expect it. Love seemed far-fetched and extremely overrated to me… and maybe that was a problem in and of itself.
1
REINA
TWELVE YEARS LATER - AGE 31
“You dog ass bitch!” Enrico yelled at me. I bristled inwardly at his choice of words, but outwardly I smiled. Here this nigga was cursing me out, probably with the vein in the middle of his forehead strained, and all I could do was laugh about it.
“I’ll be whatever bitch I need to be. You still the one who couldn’t even get it up.”
Enrico was my on-again, off-again plaything who owned several businesses around the city, including my favorite hookah lounge. He had been trying to sniff my coochie foryearsnow, and when Ifinallygave him a chance, he squandered it on the account of having erectile dysfunction at the tender age of 35.
Niggas gotta stop drinking all that liquor, eating fast food, and doing drugs, man.
But what do I know?
Enrico continued to curse me out, from his burner phone at that, and the only reason I answered was that I thought it wasmoney calling. Seeing that it was just another very mad man, upset because I blocked him, I hung up on him mid-rant and blocked that number too. You ain’t finna be cursing me out on the phone I pay for. Especially whenyou’rethe one with erectile dysfunction.
Let’s be so for real.
I showered, got dressed, and headed down toVibes and Lines. I wanted a glass or two of wine, see what new books they had in, and have some much-needed girl talk. Despite my reputation of being a man-eater, I did want to love and be loved. I just… didn’t know where to start. I knew I wasn’t incapable of loving in general. But romantic love had me confused. I had never really been on a date. I had niggas who would buy me things (because Rule #1- Never entertain a broke one), I had niggas who would pay for trips, I had niggas who would send bottles and give me free sections in the clubs, but… never arealdate. Nothing that I or a nigga intentionally planned.
The twins went on dates. My twin and Rae went on dates. Hell, even my mama went on dates.
So what was wrong with me?
Nah… something being wrong with me doesn’t even sound right, I concluded. I glanced at myself one last time in the mirror and nodded my approval of my cute, yet simple outfit. High-waisted jeans, a cropped Hustle Honeyz shirt in powder blue, and a pair of matching Ugg slides with a burgundy Dior saddlebag with my cowprint .22 in it were my uniform for the night. I was letting my natural hair breathe, and it touched the top of my shoulders in a freshly dyed, jet black silk press.
Walking into Vibes and Lines, the aroma of vanilla cashmere hit my nose, and the store was buzzing with activity. Joyywas behind the bar while Cherrice was on the floor assisting a customer. I took my usual seat in the middle of the bar, and that’s when Ismelledhimfirst.
He smelled of mahogany teakwood, a scent that I was familiar with, but it lingered on him. He had locs that were well-maintained and kinda crinkly, loosely wrapped in a bun. His face was chiseled by God himself – strong cheekbones, a sharp chin, full, dark lips, and a slender nose. Big, black square-frame glasses. Warm, brown eyes that seemed to drink you in. Dressed in a black graphic tee that had Huey and Riley on it fromThe Boondocksand a pair of black jeans, he was nursing a glass of something dark and flipping through a manga. He looked tall too, with a slender build and only one visible tattoo, a word I couldn’t quite make out yet on his forearm.
Who was this nigga?
“Joyy… who isthat?” I tilted my head in his direction without shame. Joyy paused midpour and snickered.
“Oh, him? That’s Vasiah. He comes in here a lot now that we have an extensive Black-authored anime section,” she divulged.
Vasiah.
I even likedthe way his name sounded; it was unique. I nodded and sipped my wine, wondering if I should break my own rule.
It was something that I was always taught, something I lived by. But this Vasiah character… I needed to know him. Needed to see who and what he was about.
“He’s super cool. Kinda shy and quiet, but is very easy to talk to once you get him to open up,” Joyy continued, coming frombehind the bar to sit and talk to me. I side-eyed her. Because how did she know so much about my man already, and what do they be talking about?
“Did you fuck him?” I blurted. That was another rule of mine.
Rule #222: Don’t fuck behind your friends. There’s plenty of dick to go around.
