Oh My...

11.) I Was You

"Shira gotta fat ass."

"Yeah, but Alicia has the tits."

"She also got that fuckin' gut."

"Yo, shut the fuck up that shit sexy."

"Ha! You're a fuckin' freak Dave."

That's the one thing I hated about hanging out with boys; they take apart a girl as soon as she leaves. No one can be perfect in their eyes.

We were sitting in a rundown park. All the equipment was rusted and a little WARNING sign was perched in the middle of the playground. Littering the wood chips were empty beer bottles and needles; I had to watch where I stepped even though I was wearing sneakers.

The boys were on the basketball court, huddled together and smoking a bowl that Dave--the skinny guy in the wife-beater--brought with him. Meanwhile, me and the big dude's girl, Shirley, sat on rusty swings and talked.

"Y'all a thing?" I asked, jerking me chin towards her boy. The answer was pretty obvious, but I figured it was a good way to start a conversation.

She snorted. "Nah, Jay's married. I'm his bitch."

My eyes widen. "Wait...he's a-" I snapped my jaw shut before I could finish. Shirley looked down at her boots and pulled out a pack of Newports from her coat pocket.

I blinked at her. I've known a few pimps back in Brooklyn, and I only really thought about all that the money they were making (which was an unearthly amount). Now, my perspective was shifting.

I coughed. "Can I get a cig?" I asked, eager to change the subject.

Shirley looked at me and squinted. "You smoke?"

I laughed a little. "Does it look like I don't?"

She scanned me up and down before shrugging and tossing me the whole pack. "Keep it. There's only six left, and I don't think you can get your own cigarettes yet."

I crushed the pack in my grip, my eyebrows pulling together in anger. "Hey, what the fuc-"

"Kid," she reached over and placed a hand on my shoulder. "What are you doing? Why the fuck aren't you in school?"

"Who are you, my mother?" I snarled, pushing her hand off my body. "Yo go back to what you do best."

Shirley's eyes fell into a mean glare, but her voice remained the same. "I was you. Oh yeah, I was you when I was a teenager. And look at me now."

I jumped off my swing and paced back and forth. I was so tired of people saying that they were me when they were younger--they don't even know me. "We're two completely different people," I growled. "I'm not gonna end up like you."

"That's what they all say," Shirley mused, watching me with dulled interest. "But look at you, kid. Hangin' out with these older boys, fiendin' to get high and shit. You know that's gonna lead you to nothing but trouble."

I rolled my eyes and flipped her off. "Fuck you, lady. You don't know anything about me or my situation or the reason why I'm here. Screw off, I don't need you to save me." I seethed.

"Yeah but-"

"Look, I gotta go." I tossed the cigarette pack she gave me on the ground beside her feet. "I hope everything with you works out."

"Good luck, you're gonna need it."

I nodded once, forced a smile, and walked towards the guys to see if there was any weed left.