Shut Up & Listen book FOUR.
"Why doesn't he want to play with me anymore?"
The question this twenty something has had ringing in his head many times before. Whether it be his brother, a friend or a lover-Lonnie James is often left standing alone o...
Ops! Esta imagem não segue nossas diretrizes de conteúdo. Para continuar a publicação, tente removê-la ou carregar outra.
<colin>
Thursday June 9 7ish PM
part one: 𝕶𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖑, Kwame and Little were walking to the store near a friends house on the west side of Detroit where they were spending the day. It was getting darker as they were walking down the street when a car began to trail them, Little looked back, being the only one of the three who grew up in the hood, he was most aware of his surroundings. He tapped his older cousins on the arm, "y'all know them?" He asked and they looked over at the car who was riding along side them slowly. It was a gold Buick with one man leaning out the passenger window, watching them.
The man in the car nodded at them, "y'all don't look like y'all from around here. Who y'all with?" He asked. They looked at eachother not knowing what to say, but Cecil had been listening to grown folks conversations and he said what he felt he should, "Mac our uncle."
"Mac?" He laughed, "Mac who?"
"Don't roll up on us no more." He said sternly and kept walking. The two older boys followed his lead and the car sped off.
"Who was that?" Khalil asked.
"Ion know. But, don't let nobody punk you out on the street. Y'all look soft looking around all confused and whatnot."
"Nigga, you look soft! Lightskin ass."
He just looked them up and down, ignoring their banter. "Should we tell Uncle Mac about this?"
Little shrugged, not knowing if it was even that serious. "But, that dude definitely knows uncle Mac or he wouldn't have left us alone."
"Or maybe he left us alone because he doesn't know uncle Mac and didn't think it was worth it to bother us." Kwame concluded for himself.
"Mhm." Little nodded, knowing better. He leaned forward, opening the door to the corner store followed by the twins.
Across the way, the sun was reflecting off of the water, glaring into the window of a tall brick home outside of the city. One nigga, dark skinned and smiling, another, tanned from summers in Alabama, nervous, sat across from eachother at a dinning table in the kitchen of the home. The television echoed from the front room being the only other source of sound amid the conversation. They were on a date. Sort of.
"Honestly, I feel like I don't really know a lot about you." Cole studied Lonnie's face. He liked how his freckles which he never really payed any attention to were now so evident with his southern tan. "I thought I did. Before."
"Why do you feel like you don't now?"
Cole shrugged. "Time. I guess. And, I mean you died. Imagine finding out that Cobe actually isn't dead."
