Chapter 7
SEREIA
“Ain’t no cheese on my burger,” said the bitch standing in front of me with a screwed look on her face, before tossing the burger on the counter.
Squinting, I stared at her, remembering her from about twenty minutes ago. She was with a group of dirty hoodrat bitches. They walked in loud as hell, taking forever to order. Talking about the bum ass niggas they were fucking rather than what they wanted to eat.
I was at work.
Clearly. Cashiering at one of the most popular coney islands in Wildermere.
I hated it. Hated it real bad, but what else was I supposed to do?
Not work? Jobs were limited here. If you didn’t have a nursing certificate or didn’t have pull to get into one of the warehouses, nine times out of ten you were working at a fast-food restaurant or some weak ass retail store that didn’t pay much.
Coney was good to me, I guess.
They didn’t pay but about five dollars an hour, but I got good ass tips so that was a plus.
It was enough to contribute to the bills.
Pay them fully? Ehhh, I doubted it. That was something else to think about for another day.
I still had a couple of dollars from the ten thousand Exodus gave me, but what was I to do when that dried up?
I had to stack. I was just winging shit, hoping like hell that I’d be able to cover rent for the coming months.
Which was why I’d been so nice all day, despite wanting to cut up on people.
“Because you ordered a hamburger.”
She frowned. “What? Duh. Hamburgers come with cheese. The fuck.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “Cheeseburgers come with cheese.”
She stared at me for a couple of seconds before rolling her eyes and scratching the back of her head. “Anyway. Same thing for real. Can I just get cheese on my burger? No onions, extra mayo!”
I looked down at the burger and pushed it away from me. “You can keep it. I’ll get him to make you another one.”
I walked away and went over to the grill area where the cook, Mike, was. Leaning against the wall, I crossed my arms over my chest, eyeing him, hating I would have to get him to remake a burger he didn’t mess up.
“Mike,” I said, calling out to him. He had on a pair of big ass headphones, bobbing his head to music, flipping patties.
He didn’t say anything. Didn’t even notice me. I took a deep breath, pushed up away from the wall and walked over to him. Shoving him, I finally got his attention.
He pulled one side of the headphones off his ear, resting it on top of his head. “Rei-Rei. What’s good, baby?”
I looked over my shoulder towards the counter and then back at him. “Remember them bitches from earlier? The group that came in, loud as hell not too long ago?”
“Yeah, what up?”
I sighed, rolling my eyes. “The hamburger with no onions, extra mayo? She really wanted a cheeseburger. Can you remake it?”
He sucked his teeth. “Man what?”
“Exactly. Talking about hamburgers come with cheese. Dumb ass bitch.”
He shook his head and snatched the hamburger tray from its warmer.
Sensing his frustration, I leaned in a little. “Give that bitch extra, extra mayo too, Mike. You hear me?”
“So, she can come back and complain about that? Dawg—”
“And if she bring her raggedy mouth ass in here complaining about that I’m going to look her dead in her face and tell her she asked for extra mayo. Just make it.”
I walked away, back up to the front of the restaurant and told the bitch it would be up in about five minutes. You know this bitch still gave me attitude? I didn’t let it bother me though. I expected such. I dealt with bitches like her all day, every day.
Sighing, I picked my phone up to check the time.
5:15PM. I got here at eleven and wouldn’t be leaving until eleven.
I didn’t usually work long hours. I didn’t work past five, for real.
Mainly because Meech didn’t like for me to get off late and partially because I didn’t have to work like that.
He had everything covered. What I made was just extra.
But because he was gone, I had to pull all of the weight so, I was here.
Told my boss I could work seven days a week too.
He was only able to give me four days because of the other girls but…
whatever. It was more than what I used to work so it helped.
About five minutes later, Mike yelled about the burger being up. I smirked when I picked it up, noticing the mayo residue on the side of the aluminum foil. I grabbed a fresh brown paper bag and put it inside before handing it to her. She snatched it, walked away and out of the restaurant.
I took a deep breath, shook my head and got back on my phone.
Working here required a lot of patience.
Patience I didn’t really have these days.
I was still heavy in my feelings about Meech, mad most of the day.
But because I needed the tips, I had been nice at work.
Although I really, really, didn’t want to be.
Someone cleared their throat and I looked up from my phone. I rolled my eyes at the sight of Vellz’s dumb ass.
“What? That’s how you greet yo’ customers? Damn, baby,” he annoyingly said, cockily smirking.
“What you want, nigga?”
“Where Warren at? I’m gotta tell him how you treatin’ his loyal customers.”
The niggas he was with snickered, leaned on the counter and spoke.
Harold, Darnell, and Eli. The same niggas he’d been cool with for years.
They were alright. We weren’t friends or anything like that.
I spoke to them, and eyed Vellz up and down, waiting for him to order.
Ever since I beat his bitch up, he’d been either coming up here or to the apartment trying to explain.
If it weren’t for me blocking him, he’d still be calling me all day, every day.
I told his goofy ass he didn’t need to explain anything to me.
Fucking him was a decision I made in a moment of weakness.
It wouldn’t happen again. I was sure of that.
And it wasn’t just because he had a girlfriend or whatever.
It was precisely because he was Vellz and before that night, he couldn’t even get my pussy wet anymore.
“What do you want, nigga? Damn,” I asked again.
He sucked his teeth, dug into his pocket, retrieving a knot of money.
Glancing down at it, I snorted at all of the five-dollar bills.
Vellz wasn’t broke but he carried himself as if he was a true money getting nigga.
He was a corner boy. Working for Khaos, the same nigga Meech use to work for, putting his life on the line for a couple of measly dollars.
He peeled two twenties off and stuffed them into my tip jar. “Ten minutes to talk.”
I tilted my head to the side a little. “About what, Vellz? I told you I wasn’t tripping about that shit.”
He didn’t believe me. Thought I was capping. Swore up and down him having a girlfriend bothered me. Niggas. They really did think they meant more to us than they actually did. I was not tripping. Not even a little bit. I beat her ass because of disrespect. Not because I was bitter.
He leaned on the counter, locked eyes with me and licked his lips. “You know I can tell when you lyin right?”
He gave me the ick.
I mean, the nigga really gave me the ick.
I should have never given him any pussy.
I was trippin. See the type of shit you get me into, Meech?
Leaving me down here to sort through grief, alone, hurting?
I couldn’t lie—when I was in it with Vellz, it felt amazing.
He literally gave me comfort. Made me forget for a minute.
Made me feel something other than pain. It was everything I needed in the moment.
But I felt disgusted immediately after. Now more than before because like…
Sereia… why did you do that? Now this nigga swear up and down I’m on his ass like I was before.
Never again.
Vellz couldn’t wrap his mind around it because usually when I went back, I was hooked again and open to talking about the possibility of us. He had to think his bitch ruined it. Which… she actually hadn’t ruined anything at all.
“I’m not lying though—
“Damn nigga you gon order or what? Fuck goin’ on?” said somebody from the back of the line. I hadn’t even noticed anyone else walk in. The line was growing.
Vellz squinted and looked over his shoulder. “Hold up nigga, damn. I am orderin’. She won’t give me what I want though.”
“No, for real. Either order or get out of the way. You see all these people coming in?” I said, irritated.
It was busy.
Coney was typically always busy. This one especially since we had the best corned beef sandwiches, wings, and chili fries in the hood.
All of the getting money niggas from around the way came here.
Kobra’s Coney Island stayed slapping. On Friday’s after five, especially.
Vellz had picked the perfect time to come up here on that bullshit, hadn’t he?
He looked over his shoulder again, sucking his teeth at the steady building line. The bells above the door kept sounding off. They were piling in like crazy.
“Girl, if you don’t move this line,” said Moe, the cashier at the drive-thru, walking up beside me. “Before Warren’s fat ass come out here talkin’ shit.”
“I’ll talk to you when I get off,” I said to Vellz. “Now move!”
“Don’t forget you said that. I’ma come scoop you and—
“Okay, okay,” I said, rushing him, waving him off.
Just as I was getting ready to take Harold’s order, the hoodrat from before… extra mayo… stormed back in.
Instead of waiting in line like everyone else, she walked up to the counter and threw her burger down. “Fuck is this shit!? Y’all tryna be funny? Giving me all this fucking mayo? Bitch—
“You asked for cheese,” I said, unmoved by all of the extra shit she was doing. “You got cheese. You asked for extra mayo...” I held my hand out with a shrug. “You got extra mayo. What’s wrong?”