Fortunate #3
“Ah, shit, good ol’ house party like the old days!” Viggo raised his beer and swallowed what was left in the bottle. “Who ready to get they ass kicked in some spades?”
“Viggo, you know you can’t stand too lose. You need to be a little pickier about who you partner up with.” Milani came out of nowhere with Toussaint, Petal, and Horace behind her.
“Is that supposed to be a dig at me?” Prischa chimed in, attitude etched all on her face as her arms folded in front of her.
“I don’t know… homie hopper. You feeling some kind of way?” Milani taunted, rolling her neck.
“Mama, leave Pri alone,” Henna defended. “We’re trying to move past all this. Heavy is with Giselle, and she’s with Viggo. Let’s stay out of their business.”
Viggo choked on the smoke from the blunt he’d sparked, and Prischa had to reach out to slap him on the back a few times.
“Shit! The fuck! Did Henna just say she was staying out of somebody else’s business? Where Oz at? Let me find out this nigga got magic powers.”
“Shut up!” She shoved him with her face scrunched up, and Pierre raced past all of them to the front porch.
Night settled over Southwick, and the humidity mixed with the rain left the heat clinging to everything.
Music bumped not only from Maisie and Crew’s spot, but from random cars lined up and down the block where people smoked.
Remi’s porch was packed with people, mostly Crew, Heavy, Viggo, and their inner circle from.
Someone started a dice game, and at a small card table, Viggo, Toussaint, Milani, and Horace played a game of spades.
The rain was light and intermittent, but it didn’t stop the block from celebrating.
The streetlights illuminated everything, and the low hum of crickets filled the air along with laughter and music.
The Hens, as Horace called them, gathered in the kitchen. Lou’s Bluetooth speaker blared ’90s R messy, loud, and trying to find the best way to heal.
Labeled a menace to the streets, the only thing he sought in life now was a little bit of peace.