Lighter Shade of Brown (Urban Fiction) BWHM

Chapter 5 Part 2

Who the hell did he think he was? That's the thought that had seared itself into Cleo's mind as she watched C's pull the smoke gray Neon away from the house. She couldn't believe that mofo had the nerve to tell her to stay. What the hell did he take her for? A dog! With shaking hands, she snatched the cordless phone off of the coffee table and dialed Yellow Cab. After the dispatch assured her a taxi would pick her up in ten minutes, Cleo sat the phone back on the cradle.

"Who the fuck you just called?" Ant stood in the entrance of the living room with a unit on his face.

Cleo rolled her eyes, exhaling an exaggerated sigh. Who the hell did he think he was, a correction officer? "A cab, why?" She snapped.

Ant shook his head. "So you gonna be hard headed, huh?"

She remained silent, ignoring him and that stupid smirk he always wore. Like he knew something nobody else did. He got on her damn nerves. Him and his slick ass mouth. 'So you gonna be hard headed, huh?' What was it to him, what she did? It's not like he liked having her around anyway. Everything he said to her came out the side of his mouth. And he stayed telling C's about how crazy he was to even be fucked up with somebody like her. He was probably one of those Latinos who were against black and brown mixing. Hell, look how loud his dumb ass laughed when C's practically called her a nigga. He loved that prejudice shit. And C's had the nerve to leave her there with his racist ass. Shame on it all!

When he'd finally figured out she wasn't planning on responding to his stupid ass question he threw his hands up. "Ain't got time for this shit. You're C's issue. You wanna leave? Fine, then get the hell on. Nigga got work to do."

"What the hell you just called me?" Cleo flew from her seat, so mad she was seeing in doubles.

"What?" Ant eyebrows crashed together, in confusion. "An issue?"

"Naw." She waved her hand wildly in the air. "You called me a nigga."

The frown on Ant's face receded into a mocking grin. "Damn you be ready to jump bad over dumb shit."

"Oh so now I'm dumb, too?" She cocked her head to the side. "Fuck this. I'm not fixing to have a mofo step down on me just because he feel he can. I'll sit on the porch and wait for my cab."

Ant folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the living room entrance way. "What? You want me to stop you?"

Cleo stalked across the room, yanking on the knob so hard she damn near snatched the door off the hinges. Out of respect for C's mom, she closed the door lightly behind her. In a huff she sat down on the front steps, her elbows planted firmly on her knees and her chin cradled in her hands. She was so mad she could spit fire and shit flaming bricks. So this is what everybody meant about staying on her side of the tracks. Well they wouldn't have to tell her again. She'd learned her lesson well the first time around. Fucking Latinos'.

"Hey chica," a skinny boy said as he pulled a dirt bike to a stop inches from the steps. Speaking of fucking Latinos'. "What you doin' around my way? You here seeing Ant?"

"Why?" she asked with an attitude, tired of people getting into her business.

The boy grinned down at her. Even through her anger she had to admit that he had a cute smile, if not somewhat familiar. She'd seen him somewhere before, but she couldn't put her finger on where. He looked to be around her age. His hair was clipped in a precision cut close to his head like Ant's. The thought of that mofo, made her grind her back teeth until she tasted dust.

"I just wanna know how that vato snaked my chica." With the heel of his shoe he kicked the bike stand into place and swung his leg over the seat.