At 17, Candyce's small worldview is maginifed when her big brother, Ace, invites her into his world as punishment. Ace may have been an overbearing big brother at home, but in the streets he was feared and respected as a young drug dealer, proving h...
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Chapter 24
The train in front of us honks its horn loud enough to blow both Caesar and I's eardrums.
"Damn, it really gotta be that loud?" I ask, disgruntled.
"Something told me to take the the other way. I was tryna get there quicker," Caesar says.
I turn to look at him. It's the second time he's mentioned being in a rush and I'm as confused as I was in the club.
"You got somewhere to be?" I ask.
Caesar shakes his head, clearly frustrated. The lines between his eyebrow wrinkle as his eyebrows furrow. I can't read his mind but his face says enough. He's clearly conflicted about something.
I have the urge to reach out and rub the stress out of the back of his neck but I don't. I don't know where Caesar and I stand so it's easier to let him take the lead. The PTSD of watching him pull away or physically reject me flashes in my mind like the caution sign in front of us. It's taken us a while to even tiptoe towards the bond we used to have. The last thing I want to do is step too quickly and have it all backfire in my face.
Instead, I shift in my seat and kick my shoes off. It's clear we're gonna be sitting here for awhile so I get comfortable.
"What's on yo mind?" I ask.
Caesar shakes his head again. When he picks his head up, his eyes have a gleam of hope in them. Suddenly, he shoves his left arm into the door pocket by his legs. He comes up empty handed but more determined. He pulls the visor down then slams it back upright. My eyebrows rest near my baby hairs as I watch him move around the car. He lifts the arm rest open before digging around inside.
After a minute, his hand reappears with a grape flavored pack of cigars in hand.
"Really, nigga?"
Caesar ignores me as he reaches into the front of his jeans. My annoyed expression morphs into outright disgust while I watch him dig for treasure inside his underwear. He turns up a small plastic bag wrapped tightly with green marijuana nuggets inside.
As he unravels the knot around the bag, I roll my eyes.
"I don't understand why you hiding weed by your balls. It's not like it's crack, and it's not like you still a D-boy," I say.
Caesar finally undoes the knot and the car instantly fills with pungent smell.
"Old habits, I guess," He says.
I wrinkle my nose in distaste. I don't necessarily have a problem with smoking, fuck, even I've hit the blunt a few times. But, I hate the smell good weed produces. If I have to witness someone roll up before we smoke, then I'd gladly leave the rotation. The smell alone turns my stomach.
