Chapter 3
The water wasn’t getting hot, so I took a quick, cold shower. It wouldn’t be the first time or the last time. It was something you just got used to living in Love Heights projects.
My stomach growled loudly, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten since school lunch, and that was only a peanut butter jelly sandwich. I cruised to the kitchen with my phone in my hand because I knew my mama would call any minute now, wanting to know how the game had gone.
The kitchen light flickered, causing small roaches to scatter.
Opening a counter, I pulled out the Raid to spray them.
The kitchen was clean, the whole apartment was, but it didn’t matter.
Roaches still found their way around. I swung open the fridge door and pulled out hot dog wieners.
Like I figured, my phone rang as I was placing the wieners in the oven.
“Hey, Mama,” I answered, pulling the almost empty bag of shredded cheese and mustard out the fridge.
“How many points did you score, Scottie?” she asked right off.
“Twenty-six,” I answered proudly, smiling hard with my chest out like she could see me.
I heard mama snapping her fingers, probably doing a little dance. “Ayyye aye, that’s my girl. That’s my Lisa Leslie.”
I laughed, shaking my head even though the warmth spread through my chest. Mama always hyped me up like I was in the WNBA already.
“Mama, Lisa Leslie is crazy tall.”
“You’re not short, baby, and you’re crazy skilled,” she shot back. “It don’t matter if you five-five or six-five, you still the baddest on that court. I know I don’t be there to watch you, but I still know that for a fact.”
I grinned as I removed the burnt wieners from the oven and turned it off. I placed two slices of bread on a paper plate, used a fork to put a wiener on each, then squeezed mustard and sprinkled cheese on each, while I told her how I got pushed.
“You hurt?” she asked next, voice going up a few octaves. Her tone shifted into immediately.
“No,” I replied, taking my plate and a cup of grape Kool-Aid into the living room. “I ate that.”
“I know that’s right, Scottie, but be careful, baby. Some of those girls don’t play fair. Sounds like that girl tried to take you out.” She exhaled.
“I know, Mama. I play streetball with the guys. Now that’s rough,” I snickered. I took a huge bite of my hot dog.
“Mmhmm. Well, let me get back to work. Make sure that the door is locked, you hear? Niggas be outside at all times of the night,” she fussed.
“It’s locked, Mama,” I assured her, eyeing the door. It was locked.
“Alright. See ya later,” she said with a sigh.
“See ya later,” I sang out, and the call ended.
I sat there watching Wheel of Fortune and eating. I chewed slowly, letting my mind drift from trying to solve the puzzle on the TV screen to Kane.
I can’t like a girl who ball?
Kane didn’t even know shit about me to like me.
I didn’t like him. Not like that. I mean, he hooped good, but that’s where that shit ended.
Kane had a damn death wish coming over to the projects with no care in the world.
Guys from Heart Heights weren’t built for this side of town, and the towns were just maybe fifteen minutes apart.
Still, fifteen minutes made a big difference.
I scraped the last smear of mustard off the plate with my finger and licked it, leaning back on the couch.
Wheel of Fortune went to a commercial I blew out a heavy breath because I was full, and who knew what tomorrow would bring.
We were running out of groceries until Mama’s next check.
Between practice, games, and playing streetball at the park, I couldn’t keep up with her paydays.
Outside, someone yelled, and I don’t know why, but it made me wonder if Kane got home safely.
I could text Vani, but he would think it was more than what it was.
He probably already thought that, because why did I care if Kane made it out of Love Heights safely?
I ain’t never cared. I minded my business, and that’s just what it was.
I stretched my legs under the table while finishing up my Kool-Aid, trying to talk myself into getting up to throw my paper plate away.
After a beat, I got up, tossed my plate, washed, and rinsed my cup, then set it on the drying rack.
I caught my reflection in the hallway mirror I’d gotten for Mama last year at a thrift store.
Sweatshirt, basketball shorts, and my durag. I huffed out a laugh. I looked ragged.
My phone chimed with an incoming message. When I ambled back into the living room, I picked it up from the coffee table. My brows pushed together as I peered down at the unknown number.
Unknown: Thought you’d want to know I got home safely.
I froze. My heart stopped beating for half a second before picking up speed. I never gave Kane my number, and I didn’t get his. So…
I typed slowly.
Me: How did you get my number?
Kane’s reply came fast, like he was waiting.
Unknown: A friend of a friend
I sucked my teeth. Vani.
Me: I’m guessing Daddy just yelled and told you to go to your room. He didn’t take your phone or nun, huh?
Instead of responding, a call came in, and I just stared at it. What did Kane think this was? We weren’t friends.
I blocked his number and called Vani.
“Yooooo!” he answered through a cough.
“Why’d you give that nigga my number, Vani? No one has this number but you and Ma. Not even the damn school,” I fussed.
“Maaan, that’s a good lil’ nigga. He like yo mean ass Slim. I don’t know why either. You cold…on the courts and in yo heart.” Vani laughed at his own joke.
“Vannnnni,” some whiny voice whimpered out, and I hung up. Ain’t no way Vani answered the phone for me while inside a bitch. Nasty ass. I understood he always answered when I called, not knowing if it was an emergency, but that was disgusting. I couldn’t wait to curse his ass out.
I cleaned my mouth and washed my face again before sliding under the blanket in my full-sized bed. My eyes closed as I yawned. They shot right back open because when they had closed, Kane’s crooked smile was what I saw…and that scared me.
The next morning, Mama was on the couch, knocked out cold, when I shuffled out of my room for school.
She was so tired, she didn’t even make it to her bedroom.
She still wore her janitor uniform, her arm thrown over her face.
I moved around the house, and she didn’t stir, not once.
The TV was playing some early morning infomercial, now lowly, casting a soft blue glow over her.
Mama worked so hard to provide for us, and it was barely enough for the hours she gave them.
She worked herself damn near to the bone to barely scrape rent together, to keep the light on most months, and to feed us noodles and hot dogs.
I wasn’t complaining, I just knew this couldn’t be her forever… or mine.
I moved quietly, making sure not to wake her even though the slightest sound usually did.
Not this morning. She didn’t stir. Mama was too exhausted.
In the kitchen, I poured the last of the off-brand cereal into a bowl and the last few drops of milk.
I added a little water since the milk wasn’t enough.
It was better than going to school with a grumbling stomach and being embarrassed when the classroom was quiet.
After eating, I took care of my hygiene—brushing my teeth, washing my face, and putting on deodorant.
I pulled a plain white t-shirt over my head, followed by a hoodie, and slid my legs into black joggers from the men’s section at Walmart.
With mismatched socks on my feet, I stuffed them into my Puma shoes, grabbed my backpack, and left the room.
I wouldn’t remove my durag until I made it onto school grounds.
When I stepped outside, the cold, November morning air slapped me in the face. Kids were running around, waiting for their school bus. I adjusted my strap and flipped my hood onto my head, then dragged my feet in the direction of Love Heights High.
The day dragged on slow as hell. For lunch, they had pizza. By the last period, I was over it. I was always over it. I had one more year of school, and then I was hoping to get a full ride to any college that would accept me. I wasn’t picky at all.
The final bell rang. Vani popped up beside me at my locker with a smirk on his face.
“Don’t you ever answer the phone again while fucking a ho,” I mumbled, removing books from my backpack to stuff in my locker.
Vani guffawed with his fist to his mouth. “My bad, I ain’t know if you needed me or not, baby girl.”
“Vani, I would never need you that badly. If I did, just let me suffer. I do not want to hear your name being moaned out,” I scoffed, slamming my locker closed. “Stop giving my number out.”
“He was persistent,” Vani snickered. “Listen, let’s go check this nigga out tonight at his school.”
“Who?” I played dumb.
Vani smacked his lips, laughing, shoulders shaking. “Niiiiigga, stop playin’. That nigga Kane. You don’t have practice. You never have practice the day after a game; therefore, you have no excuse, Slim. Mama probably at work.”
I chuckled. “Don’t let her hear you call her that.”
We started walking toward the double doors to leave the school.
“She loves me for real. I don’t get you in no trouble, Slim. You don’t have my back when it comes to yo mama.”
I laughed, mushing Vani’s head. “Your skin is tatted, and you come around smelling like Snoop Dogg.” We snickered in unison. “Mama knows you look out for me, but she also knows you hell. Is she lying?” I cut my eyes over at Vani, who was grinning.
He ran a hand over his waves. “Nah, she ain’t lyin’. Hell on wheels.” We headed to the projects side by side. “We checkin’ ya boy out? Remember I told you ‘bout the games on the Westside? We can really use him to win that bread.”
“He isn’t my boy, Vani. Stop that shit. He did mention it last night, and I meant to bring it up to you. Me and Ma could really use that money,” I said. I nibbled on my lip.
“Hell yeah. We can see what he on and go from there,” Vani shrugged. “That or we can rob his rich ass.”
That made me double over and laugh. “Vani…no.”
Vani threw an arm over my shoulder, steering me down the sidewalk.
It was never anything more than a friendship with Vani.
I didn’t and would never look at him in any other way.
When we started hanging out with each other three years ago, there were rumors.
Rumors we knew weren’t true, so we kept it pushing, not clearing up shit.
We both bust out laughing again as we crossed the street. Vani removed his arm and bumped his shoulder into mine. “So we slidin’ tonight or what?”
I sighed. “Yeah, we slidin’. I ain’t got nothin’ else to do anyway.”
“That’s my dawg.” Vani grinned widely. His eyes danced over me. “You gon’ change clothes?”
I cocked my head to the side. “I wasn’t planning on it.”
“You should. Throw on some jeans or somethin’, Slim. You ain’t gotta wear that baggy shit all the time,” he snorted.
“I wear what I want,” I spat.
“You wear that shit ‘cause these niggas round here are weird. I ‘member you tellin’ me that shit.” Vani tapped his temple. “I don’t forget shit, Slim Jim.”
“I see,” I mumbled. “I’m not changing, though.”
“Aight,” he breathed out.
We made it to our apartments. Vani stayed down the way on the bottom.
“If you think I’ma cramp your style, we don’t have to walk in or sit together,” I let him know, cutting my eyes in his direction.
“Nigga, please. Nobody can cramp my damn style, and,” Vani smacked his lips, “you don’t embarrass me, Slim. I rock wit’ you ‘cause I fuck wit’ you. I’ll grab my uncle’s car.”
Nodding, I jogged toward my front door, unlocked it, and slipped into the apartment. I quickly texted my mama about going to the game with Vani. I already knew what she’d say when she responds.
“Be careful with Vani, Scottie. Don’t let him get you into any trouble.”
I’d moved to Love Heights projects when I was eight.
Mama didn’t want to live in the housing authority and got on Section 8 instead, so she could live wherever she wanted that accepted it.
Since she couldn’t find a house, she had to settle on the projects before the voucher expired.
Vani was nine, going on ten. He’d walked up to our apartment, knocking on the door, asking if I could come out and play.
Mama was about to say no, I knew it. I rushed under her arm with my ball tucked under my arm, and pleaded with her.
Mama ran a long spiel to Vani about whether I got hurt, she’d turn him every which way, but loose and not care who got mad.
Vani lived with his Uncle Terris, who couldn’t care less.
He was always around, drunk and slurring.
Still do to this day. So, it wasn’t as if Mama didn’t know Vani that well; she just knew his ass was some trouble.
“All those tattoos covering his skin and he ain’t even out of school yet,” she had complained.
Tossing my backpack onto the bed, I unzipped it and pulled out my durag.
I held it in my hands for a moment, then decided to leave it at home.
It was time for these braids to come out.
They were getting fuzzy, and the parts were no longer clear.
I would have to wait until Mama found the time to braid my hair.
It was only eight braids. I quickly took them down, wet my hair, and slicked it back into a low ponytail.
I looked like a different person when I took my braids out.
I changed into a hand-me-down blue Aeropostale shirt and my good jeans, the ones that fit just right.
I smoothed the shirt down and stared at myself in the mirror for a second.
My face always looked somewhat softer, somewhat babyface with my hair out of braids. I looked like a…girl.
I grabbed my Heartville Hawks hoodie that had a bleach stain on the right sleeve, wrapped it around my waist, and stuffed my phone into my back pocket.
Vani was taking too long, so I locked the door and stood in front of it to wait for him.
I was somewhat hyped to see Kane play tonight, and if Vani didn’t hurry, I’ll figure out how to get there myself.