Lady Luney #3
My phone had been in my bag, not wanting to worry about it or worse, lose it or have it stolen. I grabbed it and powered it on, going straight to MyRoom.
My hand went to my mouth, cupping it.
Pictures of the boy who was dancing were everywhere, with RIP attached.
Videos of Porscha’s cousin’s block lit up with sirens and ambulances were posted.
An incomplete story from the local news indicated the party got shot up, with multiple fatalities and injuries.
I switched to my texts, reading Porscha’s meltdown as she asked me where I was, to please call her and tell her I made it home safely.
She was unharmed, but her cousin was shot, and the guy she was sitting with was among those who died.
“Damn,” I whispered. My thumbs hovered over the keyboard, but I couldn’t reply to her. Partly because of what she’d said before I left, but because I knew she’d want to talk about it, and I couldn’t.
I couldn’t politic about this because, even without confirmation, I knew it was Peanut, Rico, Tyree, and the Birch Babies.
And regardless of anything, my loyalty was to them, always.
Told her ass to leave with me.
I let the hot water rinse off any creeping doubts and theories about the night, and indulged in someone’s–probably Fredo– shea butter before putting on some pajamas.
Sure enough, there was a steaming bowl of smothered chicken and rice on Rico’s nightstand when I entered his room. I sat my bag back in his chair, grabbed the bowl, and got comfortable on that side of the bed. He lay on the other side, reading The Great Gatsby.
“Reading for school?” I mused, digging in to the delicious food.
He closed the book immediately and sat up. “New teacher tryna be proactive and gave us a list for the year.”
“Mmm.” I couldn’t even say anything else, this food was so good.
“It’s good?”
I dropped the drumstick bone into the empty bowl and rolled my eyes at him. “Why? You cooked this?”
“Nah,” he said, grabbing the bowl. “Ty-Ty’s granny always looks out when Nan is gone. Go wash your hands.”
“What’s up with everyone thinking I just don’t wash my hands,” I complained to myself.
When I came back into the room, he was sitting in the chair, with it rolled to the side of the bed I was sitting on.
As I walked down the green mile, I took in how clean and neat the room was.
A full sized bed, a desk, and a huge tv on top of a dresser.
Shoes lined the bottom, and a peek in the closet told me it was full, though I already knew he could dress better than the hoodies and basketball shorts he loved to sport.
I climbed onto the bed and crossed my legs, as he rolled in front of me. We stared at each other for a moment, before I shifted my gaze up and smiled.
“You need your hair done.”
“You gon’ do it for me?”
“Be serious, Rico.”
“I am, Snow. We in the crib for at least three days. Plenty of time for you to learn to braid my hair.”
“Why three days?”
He shrugged, his eyes steady on me.
I licked my lips, bracing myself for any answer or non-answer he’d give me.
“What happened tonight, Rico? Why were you at that kickback?”
He rested his hands on my knees, before sliding them slowly up. “You sure you wanna know? You ready for that?”
I knocked his hands off of me and straightened my legs so that they rested between us. “I already know the kickback got shot up after I left.”
“Then why the fuck you asking what happened?”
“Because!” I pushed his chair back and stood. “A party I was at got shot up! People died! What if I wasn’t going outside?! I could have–”
“Why the fuck was you there anyway?” Rico stood toe to toe with me, tilting his head so we were inches apart.
“I done told yo ass not to be anywhere near here, but Ice Princess gotta be wherever the function at, right? You almost got caught up, and that’s on you.”
He bopped me on my nose with his index finger, so I pushed him out of my face.
He grabbed my arms, twirling us around until my back was to the wall and he was back in my face.
“Watch your hands, Snow.”
“Let go of me.” I clenched my teeth, crunching my toes into the soft carpet.
My vision became blurry the more I glared at him, but I still noticed when his eyebrows furrowed, the browns and golds in his eyes melting like lava, and the hint of defeat that took over in the drop of his mouth.
He pulled me to him gently, wrapping his arms around me as I clung to him.
I didn’t even realize I was crying until an ugly sob wrenched out of me.
“Now, why you crying, Snow?”
“I’m…s-s-sorry for not listen-n-ning,” I managed to get out, making him chuckle as he leaned his head onto the side of mine.
I pushed him off again, wiping my face aggressively. “Don’t laugh at me.”
He shrugged his t-shirt off, showing me prime teenage boy abs and pecs, and handed it to me so I could get myself together.
“I was leaving, you know,” I said, throwing the shirt onto the floor. “They started throwing up gang signs, and I recognized them, and I got up to tell Porscha we needed to leave. And I didn't know I was that close to the projects, I swear.”
Rico nodded, pulling me back to the bed. I sat down, and he sat back in the chair, wiping his face over and over.
“I’m never gon’ be against you living life and having fun, because you deserve it, ‘specially after what your parents pulled awhile back. And I’m glad to know you was on your way out when we seen you. But Snow, you gotta be on yo Ps and Qs. The city is a warzone right now, and not just over here.
I can’t be out here on some slimy shit and be worried about you.”
His shoulders hunched as he averted his eyes.
“Seeing you in that house… I ain’t felt fear like that in a long time. Really only felt fear like that when it came to my mama. Didn’t shit matter but getting you somewhere safe; not them niggas, not my bros, shit, not myself. And that’s unacceptable. So you gotta play your part, Snow.”
“And what’s my part, Rico?”