𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄.

𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍.

"Sadiya this why I told you pack yo shit last night man," he complained as I zipped my bag up. "Cmon before we miss this flight," he grabbed my bag and led me to his car.

"I was tired last night, I'm sorry," I tried to defend myself but he was not having my shit. He already drove fast everywhere but he drove faster trying to get to the airport. We got there on time, of course, he was just being dramatic.

"See look, we're here, relax, Maj," I got out the car.

"I am relaxed," he mumbled, pulling my duffel out the trunk.

"You're not, baby. What's the problem?" I held my hand out stopping him from walking into the airport. We had an hour before the flight, so we had time.

He stood in front of me, jaw clenched up, fists too. He'd had a lil attitude since I got home but I didn't think much of it since tomorrow was his dad's birthday I knew he was bound to be a little upset and I didn't take it personally. But now I could tell he was actually irritated, he wasn't sad.

"Ion wanna see my mama, man. My grandma said she comin and I don't wanna see her," he spoke through clenched teeth.

"Maj," I sighed, "You doing this for your dad, to remember him. Don't let whatever y'all got goin on ruin what y'all doing for him," I rubbed his face in my right hand. I hated seeing him upset, it put me in a bad mood too, cuz why y'all fuckin with my baby...

He took a deep breath and nodded. I knew it probably wouldn't get rid of his bad mood but I could try, at least get it in his head.

We walked in silence, he following closely behind me like always. He doesn't like when I fall behind him, and stays fussing at me about it like I don't have shorter legs than he did, so he just walks behind me or holds my hand everywhere we go.

We made it to the gate, after a quick starbucks stop for me, meeting Maisyn and Shaheem with hugs, and I sat by Syn while the boys talked.

"Yeah, Shah been sad the last week. Them boys loved they daddy," she smiled. "He was so sweet, woulda' never thought that nigga was a killer," she chuckled. "That man ran the whole South when we were kids, nothing moved if he didn't know about it, Slick was ruthless about his money," she told me.

Maj didn't talk to me too much about his dad, but even I knew who he was. Boys in my foster home used to sell for him back when I was young. I was probably the only kid who noticed him coming around there at night. My ass wasn't ever in bed when I was supposed to be.

He talked to me once, his name was Slick, or at least that's what everyone told me. I was outside at midnight, just sitting on the curb, I was 9 then. Some of the boys came out with hella money in their hands and an all-black Cadillac pulled up right in front of me.

•
"Mane Lucky go inside, yo lil ass always out here. You not gon be happy till somebody snatch yo small ass right off the fuckin street," one of the older boys, Jordan, fussed at a little Lucky. She had a habit of sneaking out of the foster home past her bedtime and just sitting alone.