The Trap (StudxStud)

4 Is Typing...

IM FINALLY GETTING DISCHARGED from the hospital and to say I'm ready is an understatement. I'm tired of laying in this bed.

        I wince as I slip my clothes on. How am I gonna shower on my own with this wound? I hate pain. I dislike when I get a cut or scratch on my body because once I have to get in that shower, it's gonna burn like crazy.

        I wave goodbye to the nurse at the desk and then I exit the building with a sigh. I'm downtown and I don't have a ride home. I guess I'm taking the bus.

        A blue challenger rolls up before I can take another step. The windows are tinted but when the passenger window rolls down I see Nique. I raise my eyebrows in surprise. She hadn't been back since she snapped at me.

         "Hey," I say as I get in.

        "Wassup." She pulls off and now we're on the road. There's a lot of traffic.

        "I'm sorry about Tuesday," I say out of the blue. It's been thirty minutes of silence.

       "It's straight. I ain't stressin'," she responds without looking at me.

        "Are we still cool?"

        "Hell yeah. I know your intentions not bad. I just got a problem with being open about my past and ion like folks in my business for real. It make me feel like if I tell them too much they gone try and plot on me from what they know and ion want that."

       I nod. "Never let them know your next move."

        She finally looks over at me. "What yo lil innocent ass know about that?"

       "I ain't innocent!"

       "Yes, you is, miss ion wanna be involved wit' gangs."

       "Just because I don't want to be involved doesn't mean I'm innocent."

       "Have you ever been in a fight?"

      "No."

      "Okay, then."

      "That don't mean I'm innocent. I just never had a reason to fight."

      "I know folks talked shit about you before and you telling me you ain't bop they ass?"

      "No, because I know what they say ain't true."

         Nique just laughs and turns up the radio.

          What's funny?

        When we got to our side of town I become nervous. All I could think about was me getting shot. I guess Nique saw the look on my face because she said, "Don't worry, I got eyes everywhere, now. So what happened a few days ago won't happen again."

       I nod, swallowing hard. I expect her to tell me goodbye and drive off when we get to my house but she cuts off the car and gets out too.

        "You're coming in?"

        "Yeah, I wanna meet ya mom's if that's cool with you."

        I nod. "That's fine." We go inside and I see a lady in light blue scrubs sweeping the floor. "Umm."

        "That's the doctor."

        "Oh...hi." She waves with a smile and I lead Nique to the back. "Does cleaning the house come in the package too?"

       "Nah, Linda is just a neat freak."

I slowly open my mom's room door and peek my head in before opening the door wider. "Hey mom," I say, softly. She was laying on her bed staring at the t.v. I sit next to her and kiss her forehead. "I know you were worried about me. I was shot the night I went to the corner store. I tried to leave the hospital earlier but they wouldn't allow me to."

         My mom slowly lifts her hand to caress my face, tears filling her eyes.

         "It's okay, momma. I'm okay. I'm safe now." I wipe her eyes. "Look, this is the woman who got you the personal nurse. Her name is Karsonique and she also took me to the hospital and made sure I was okay."

"Wassup, Nisey's mom." She holds her hand out for a fist bump and my mom slowly gives her one. I smile at this. She seems to like her. After a few more minutes of talking to my mom, Nique and I go out to the porch and sit. "I see why you'd rather be with her than out partying."

       I sigh. "Yeah, she has Parkinson's disease."

       "Damn, I'm sorry to hear that. I know it must be hard."

      "Only at times when I really wanna go outside. I don't really go outside anymore because it's not the same. We used to take walks together when I was a kid."

        "I never did no shit like that with my mom. We never really had a good relationship."

       "You don't have to tell me about that if you don't want to."

        "Nah, it's cool. I mean, you opening up to me so it's only right." She takes a deep breath before starting. "I was a bad child. Or as my mom would call it, a Bebe kid. I'd always get into some rather it be her hair products or her Vaseline. And when I tell you I use to get my ass tore up for that. She ain't play. In middle school is when I started fighting and getting suspended and my Ma was never happy. Mainly because it would get in the way of her job. I got my ass tore up for that too." She chuckles softly. "Then, in high school I found out about drugs and gangs and shit. I started trapping to make money and my momma found out. She found my stash and kicked my ass out. We ain't talked since."

I feel myself becoming sad for her. "I don't know what I would do without my mom." I hug her and she tenses.

"Uhh—thanks." She pats my back awkwardly. When I pull away she asks, "Do your mom got a wheelchair?"

      "Yeah, but it's not in good condition, why?"

      "Nun. Aye, I gotta go handle some business. Gimmie your phone so I can put my number in."

I scratch my head in embarrassment. "Ion got one."

"Oh. Well, I'll see you around. Remember what I said. Be on yo game don't let your guard down."

      "Aight." We dap each other up and I go in the house after she drives off. I go back into my mom's room and pull the Kit-Kat Nique gave me last week from my coat pocket. "Mommy," I call. "I got your Kit-Kat." I smile widely as I open it and break off one before handing it to her.

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