"we fell in love the way you fall in leaves."
Juwan "Rocky" Rockwell has had a pretty hard life. Between trying to find a way to fend for himself and dealing with the normal hardships of teenage angst, he had nowhere to turn as an adolescent and no...
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"spread thin"
"Congrats on the baby, man," were the first words that left Red's mouth when I arrived to his crib. I was confused as to how he knew, but apparently, Keisha told him. I don't even know why he was still entertaining her big mouthed ass, and I don't even know why Quinn is telling her our business when she's barely even talking to me.
It's been about two months since I found out Ava was pregnant, and the shit has been rough. I've picked up extra weight and longer periods of time on the block just to get some money rolling for when Jamir would make his arrival. I've been juggling Quinn's cold shoulder, Ava's mood swings, and Violet's— well, actually, Violet hasn't really been causing me any stress. It's just been a task carving out time for her, but I try to pay her little visits every other week or at least once a month.
As of right now, I was making time for my friends. I hadn't seen them since the week before my birthday. I hadn't even spoken to them; hence, why I was so thrown off guard by Red congratulating me on having a baby on the way.
We sparked up some herb, fired up the gaming console, and vented about how our lives had been going on. Mine, of course, was a hot topic.
"It sounds to me like she just sat there and made that shit about herself," Marcus exhaled the herb that we were rotating. "What'chu mean?" I inquired before taking a long drag of the blunt that I was supposed to be passing to Marcus.
"You told her that Ava was pregnant, but you didn't even get to tell her all the details that y'all worked out to make for a solid upbringing for lil' man because she started boo-hooing about how she's supposed to be having your first born. Your shorty's a brat, on some real shit," he explained.
"Don't talk about her like that, bitch ass nigga. She's just a lil' hurt. That's all. She'll get over it," I finally passed the herb. "I guess I just don't understand why she was mad," Red chimed in, his eyes looking as if they were closed.
"She wasn't mad. She was just upset," I shrugged. "Is there really a difference?" Money asked. "Yes, there's a difference. There's a difference between breaking dishes and stress-eating," I answered. "Whatever, man," Red murmured.
"She's jealous for nothin', man. The way I see it is that she wants you for herself, but that's just not realistic no more," Marcus shrugged. "Yeah, between the baby and keeping your baby mama happy and the hustle, you're already working 24/7, whether you're on the block or not. Quinn is overtime, at this point," Red reasoned.
This was the last thing I wanted to hear.
I looked at my watch for the time, finding that it was drawing close to 4:00. I was supposed to meet up with Violet soon.
"On some real shit, you niggas are starting to irritate me, so I'm gonna' jet," I took another couple of puffs from the blunt before flicking it into an ashtray. "Yeah yeah yeah. Whatever, nigga. That's always your excuse for leaving. Tell Violet we said what's up," Red waved me off. "I ain't goin' to see Violet," I stood up slowly while lying straight through my teeth. "Yeah, a'ight. Lyin' ass nigga," Marcus nodded while taking hold on the game controller that I was no longer using.
