"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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"honey and wine"
"Ava. . . pick up the phone, shorty. You ignoring my calls and shit— The shit's really startin' to hurt my feelings, on the low. . ." I waited a moment before kissing my teeth. I leaned against the wall, one of my hands finding the pocket of my jacket that was filled with cash.
"You know I love you, Maria. Why you doin' me like this? We got a kid together— and one on the way— and I'm just tryna' be the man you need— the man they need. Let me do that. . . Please. . . Hit me back," I hung up the phone.
With that, I released a sigh and stood straight once more.
I was back on the block, killing time and people watching. It was hot out, the shade having been my refuge for the many hours I'd been outside. It wasn't much help though with the heat becoming stagnant and breezes being sporadic.
I was down to my last grams of weed, the coke having been sold earlier this morning to a guy that runs in the same circle as Violet's former manager.
It didn't surprise me. Men like him had quite the habit and spent their off time going to art parties that'd often spill over into bachelor party territory with call girls and private dancers in penthouse suites. What fun would that be for them without cocaine, especially considering that their previous dealer had recently been arrested? This was the perfect opportunity for the perfect gig, especially since I didn't always have the muse to paint or write or sketch. The stars had aligned.
"Yo, Rock!" A booming voice pulled me out of my trance, my free hand going toward my waist for my gun out of reflex. However, once I realized it was none other than Rashad, my hand was dropped and I was relaxed once again.
"What's up, Red?" I nodded in greeting as he approached. "What's up wit'chu? I ain't seen yo' ass in a grip, nigga," Red flashed that gummy smile while our handshake commenced. I only chuckled as if something funny had actually been said.
"How's Pebbles?" he inquired, using the name he'd given Jamir as a play on my nickname. "Never better, man. You know he's turning one in a few. Ava's tryna' have a party and shit," I smirked. "Damn, it's been a year already. Where does the time go? You know I got a gift for lil' man too. Don't let me forget," he stated. "I got'chu, man. How's Key?" I inquired.
Red laughed at the question. I didn't see what was so funny. "You ain't never been worried about Keisha," he noted. "Well, I know that's ya' girl and shit," I shrugged. "Yeah, you also know Quinn moved back in with her too," he pointed out.
I kissed my teeth. "I ain't worried about that no more. I mean— the shit is still real with us, and the love is still there, but. . . she's good. I know she is," I nodded. "Yeah, a'ight," he didn't sound too convinced.
