I'll Ride For You, Homie

t w e n t y

December 10, 1999

Arique

"Why you playin' me, Lil C? I'm already knowin' you single, so why you tryna play me to the left?" Corey asks me as I deny him asking for sex for what felt like the thousandth time.

"I'm not playin' you, Corey. I'm not playin' at all when I say no. You jus' ain't tryna hear it." I mumble the last part loud enough for him to hear. I knew he'd hear me because he has his chair pulled close to mine.

He smacks his teeth, "man be for real. I know you miss me jus' like I miss you." He tries to kiss me but I dodge it. "What's the problem fa real, Lil C? You been actin' off for a lil minute nih."

"I been focusing on stackin' this bread for my shop so I can hurry up and stop sellin' dope." I tell him hoping that he buys the bullshit I'm trying to sell him. I really have been in a somber mood since the day after Thanksgiving, a few weeks ago. I've been trying to combat it by keeping myself busy.

I guess Delontae and I have the same mindset in that way. When I see him at the shop it's all work and no play. Same when I buy dope from him. It's all business, no small exchange of pleasantries or anything of the sort. It's crazy how he can go from not being able to not touch me in any way, to treating me like a strange nigga on the street.

Of course his brothers noticed the difference in how we interact, and were nosey asking question and making assumptions. Delontae (much to my displeasure) shut all that shit down and let them know that it was "dead" as he put it. The finality of his statement hurt worse than the initial "breakup." So, I have been doing everything I possibly could to fight against this... I don't know the word to describe how I feel. Depression maybe?

"So you ain't got time to chill every now and then?" Corey questions as I am trying to bag this dope that I cooked, at my plastic covered kitchen table. I know Delontae told me not to "shit where I eat," but I really don't have a choice. We don't have the same resources for me to not use my own home to hold and cook dope.

"I don't wanna fuck around wit' you 'cause you wit' my ainie." I tell him.

"But you can fuck around with ya sisters nigga?"

I exhale a sigh. "I already told you what the problem was. The fact that you don't wanna hear no for an answer is a personal problem." I am pretty sure he thought that since me and Delontae were through he would be able to be that dominating man in my life again.

"That's 'cause I know it's bullshit." He tells me. After no response from me, he removes the dope from me and pushes it all aside. "Look, I know you been workin' and stressin' and shit, lil C. You ain't been gettin' no sleep and barely eatin'." Yes, the nigga has been staying over a few nights out of the week for the past week when I can't seem to shake him. That's how he knows my eating and sleeping habits as of late. Surprisingly, he actually has been helping me sell the dope I buy. I let him keep half of the money he makes for taking chances.

At first I felt like I was hustling backwards because with him keeping half, it almost felt like I wasn't turning the profit I wanted. I started giving him less though, so I have more to sell which means I make more money. 

"I'm not stressin'." I shrug my shoulders, "jus' grindin'." I look him in his face.

"Naw you stressin', baby. I never even knew you could grow facial hair like that and the shit is jus' all over your face now." He rubs from my cheek to my chin softly. "Let me help you take ya mind off it." He kisses the corner of my mouth and I let him.

He knows I like to be kissed, even though he don't do it often. I think to myself. He must really want some. Might as well, I could use the distraction.