His Future #3
“Duh, nigga. You know that,” I replied as we pulled into a lot next to some apartments.
“I know,” he smirked, before scowling at me. “But if you even sound like you flirting with Tati, I’ll run us both into a fuckin’ wall just so Fredo think it was an accident.”
I grinned as we bounced out. Peanut swore he wasn’t feeling her like that anytime anyone asked about his side job of stalking her.
I wondered when he’d jumped the gun to actually hanging out with her, marveled at how another sign of getting older was really meeting someone who made you feel out of body.
Who else in our crew was doing the most over a female?
We walked up two flights of stairs, before he knocked on one of the blue doors. We had to have been at some type of dorm or campus apartment, since Kenton State University was down the street.
The door opened, and a pretty girl smiled up at Peanut, showing all her white teeth. “I told you it was fine,” her airy voice said, before letting us in.
All the noise he made about her, I got it instantly. The way she looked at Peanut, was the way Snow looked at me.
Not like a nigga who would fuck her into oblivion. But like someone who she truly enjoyed being around. Innocent and pure.
I smirked, feeling good that he experienced what I did, too.
“It’s not fine, girl. You ain’t ate, so I brought you some food. This my Ace, Rico. Rico, this is Tati.”
Her gaze and smile shifted to me as she reached for the food and drinks in my hands.
I side stepped her, placing it on the island. “You good. It’s nice to finally put a face to the name.”
She averted her eyes, and I was sure if she was lighter, she’d be blushing.
I didn’t know what would be my boy’s type, since he actively hated every bitch in the Birch. But as I watched the short, thin girl with deep dark skin wearing sweats and a henley wrap her arms around my bro, I didn’t think I’d picture her in my wildest dreams.
“Your hair nice,” he said in a voice I never heard come out of him.
“Thank you. Well since you’re here, let’s eat.”
We washed our hands and took seats at the island. I nodded as I examined all the swirls in the two-strand twists in her hair. “You did that? It’s fire.”
“She not doing yo fuckin’ hair, nigga,” Peanut gritted, mouth full of fries.
“Patrick,” she hissed, making my eyes stretch.
No one, not even old ladies, called his nigga Patrick.
And no one could get Peanut to look embarrassed.
“I’m just saying… you don’t need to be doing niggas’ hair. You need money or something? I can give you some money, but he not sitting between ya legs on some Mario shit.”
“Chill out, Patrick. I got someone to braid my shit. It’s still nice, though.”
She turned to me, throwing me a quick smile and thanks before turning back to Peanut and arching an eyebrow. “Are you gonna be nice? He’s your best friend, which means I want to get to know him.”
“Knew this was a bad idea,” he mumbled. When she turned back to her food, he drug his thumbnail across his neck at me, over her head, making me chuckle.
“So you ready to admit you feeling her?” I asked him as we cruised back to the Birch. It was already late, so after she bickered about it being too late for us to dip, we escaped after promising that he would call her as soon as we got home.
“Oh, I’m marrying that girl,” he said, turning off the radio. “May propose the day she graduate law school. And she having my baby. I think I would be a good girldad.”
I stared at my bro like he grew two heads. “You’re serious?”
“As a muthafuckin’ stroke. She the one, my boy. You was my last test. If she looked at you funny, I’d be over it. But she resisted yo charm, so I know it’s real. She got like six years of school left. Plenty of time for me to make something shake. I gotta be all the way good so I can spoil her.”
“Damn, I ain’t even thought past next week,” I blurted out, turning my head toward my window.
“Well, you should. All of us should have a little change saved from the bullshit pennies Tiny throws at us. Enough to maybe get a place once we turn eighteen and get the fuck up out the Birch. Soon as I turn eighteen, I’ma get my GED and maybe enroll in some classes or some shit.
Shad and Turk fasho going to State, and hopefully Set will follow Turkey ass.”
“So fuck the Babies then?”
“Hell yeah,” Peanut bellowed. “This gangbanging shit old and moving work is fasho temporary. Man, these niggas gon’ be dead or in jail in five years, mark my fuckin’ words. Muthafuckas have no direction or drive. Tiny break them off way more than us, and niggas still on they grandma Section Eight.
Could never be me, and fasho not gon’ be none of y’all, on my mama.”
“Look,” he continued, “the Birch gon’ be in my blood until the day I die, same as you. But that don’t mean we gotta die there, brodie. Set wanna build it up, just like Boog did. That’s why he be keeping all the young niggas Tiny makes us recruit. And if anyone can build it up, it’s him.
I’m cool off it, but I get it. Either way, we need some real money if we gonna make any moves. So yeah, you should think past next week. Shit, past this year, whether you tryna get the fuck like me, or build them towers up like him.”
His words rang in my head long after we departed from each other. I was glad that after I got home, that Fredo was home, too, for once, and didn’t think anything of barging in his room and taking a seat in his desk chair.
“Glad I wasn’t beating my meat,” he joked, muting his tv.
“You do that?” I asked, my brows shooting to the sky.
He waved me off, and we both held it in for five seconds before laughing.
“Wassup, Rick?”
“You think about what we gon’ do after we graduate? You think our grades decent enough to go to school out of state?”
“Yeah, but you got suspended for ten days in ninth grade for socking Mr. Dayton,” he smirked.
I’d forgotten about that, and slumped my shoulders, wiping Fredo’s smile off his face.
“Where this coming from?”
“Peanut talked about all these plans he had after he turned eighteen. These plans the others had. I wondered if you did, too.”
Fredo peered at me, not saying anything. I leaned back in the chair and held his gaze, waiting for when he was done processing what I said.
“Would you go to the Navy? Or the Marines?”
I tilted my head. “But what about our records?”
“We could get them expunged. I been looking into that. They get sealed when we turn eighteen, but we could get them expunged in a year. We could go when we nineteen.”
“That’s what you wanna do?”
Fredo shrugged. “That Navy recruiter came to our class, I chopped it up with him. Them niggas be traveling the world, getting paid to do it, and it’s hella jobs. We could be in the kitchen, or shit, cleaning up offices. Depends on some test, and we always been good at those. We could go,
and Nan could get back to Belize where she wanna be. But you know, it’s just something to think about.”
“Nah, I can hear it in ya voice. You wanna do it.”
Fredo grinned. “Fashitsho. But I think you’d like the Marines better. They actually be shooting shit up. Going on top secret missions and operations and shit.”
“But is the Marines cool with you? Don’t niggas in the Navy need to swim? You never taught me, bitchass.”
Fredo cackled. “I’m good either way, ho ass nigga. But since you can’t swim, the Marines sound like a bet.”
I got up, feeling lighter than I had since I left Snow. We did the Birch handshake, then did our own twin twist on it, sealing in the promise.
“No more getting arrested, Rick. Don’t be letting Peanut and Ty get you in bullshit.”
I waved him off, leaving his door open just because I knew he hated it, and made my way into my room.
Tucked into my bed with the light off, I dialed Snow. As always, she answered on the third ring.
“Richard,” she droned, sleep heavy in her voice.
“You sleep too easy without me,” I teased her.
“Richard, we have school–”
“I know. I just wanted to hear yo voice before I go to bed. I’ll let you go.”
The phone was silent for long seconds before she cleared her throat.
“Goodnight. Love you.”
My heart tripped up something crazy. I let the words settle before I replied.
“Yo ass scary for waiting to say it on the phone.”
“I’ll never say that shit again.”
“Yeah, right. Bet you will.”
“You make me sick,” she hissed. “Goodnight.”
“Ay.”
“What.”
“Te amo, mi Nieve.”
“That better be what I think it means, or they’ll be hell to pay. Knew I should have chose Spanish instead of French–”
“Go back to sleep, Snow,” I chuckled, hanging up on her rambling.
“Damn,” I whispered to myself.
Passing US History was a must, now that I had a plan. If it did take a year to get my record expunged, we would leave after she graduated high school, and she could come with us.
Shit was lining up like it was meant to be, and by my lonely, in my darkened room, I let myself feel something for the first time; hope for the future.