Chapter 4 Nyree
I woke up the next morning with a pounding headache. It hurt so bad my ears were ringing. “Damn,” I grumbled, then looked at the digital clock on my nightstand.
Easing out of bed, I shuffled down the hall to grab some water from the fridge. As I guzzled it down, my headache began to subside.
I needed to take better care of myself.
As I was thinking that thought, my phone started buzzing loud as hell from my bedroom. From the short duration of the buzzing, it was text messages and not a phone call.
I finished the water bottle then threw it in the trash before stretching and heading back to my room. When I entered, I went straight for my phone and saw that Que had left a group message for me and Blake.
That bitch robbed me!
My eyes bugged out as the bubbles danced with Blake’s speedy reply. He sent a few laugh emoji’s first then said, Ha! Told you nigga. That’s what your ass gets for being so thirsty.
I couldn’t help but chuckle at those words too, though it was fucked up that the chick in red, Shameka, had robbed my friend.
How did this happen? I typed. And how much did she get you for?
Que wrote back a few moments later. At the bank right now. The bitch stole $300 from my wallet and must have taken a picture of my debit card or something because she bought something from Walmart for $1000.
“Damn!” I said aloud, suddenly feeling bad for laughing at first.
$1000?! Blake wrote. Now you gotta find that bitch.
Word, I agreed.
I’m-a have a few of my female cousins find her ass, Que said.
I put my phone back down and contemplated what I would do today.
No sooner than I had the thought, my boy Jamel hit my phone. I froze as his name flashed across the screen.
Did I want to answer?
I’d had enough social interactions to last me a week, fucking with Blake and Que.
It wasn’t that I didn’t fuck with niggas, it was that I didn’t like being around people all the time.
I didn’t know why. It was something I needed to figure out soon because that joke Que made about me being a hermit wasn’t far from the truth.
The ring was about to run out. Sighing with exasperation, I answered the phone.
“Yo,” I said in a noncommittal tone.
“What’s good?” Jamel said, sounding excited, and I couldn’t deny that his tone made me perk up too.
“Ain’t shit. What’s good with you?”
“Yo, brutha… I got an opportunity for you,” Jamel said, and I felt like shit. Jamel was the type who was always looking out for niggas. I told him about my predicament and he said he would let me know if something came up. With his line of work, it was bound to happen sooner or later.
And here I was, about to fumble that shit by not answering my phone.
“Word?” I answered with intrigue. “What is it?”
I listened as Jamel put me on to an opportunity that had the potential to change my life.