Chapter 11
I didn’t believe in wearing cheap clothes or anything…
because everybody in the hood cared about designer shit.
I was no exception. However, I just wasn’t wasteful.
I hadn’t been to the club in over a year, since I would only go out with my man, and he was on a…
vacation. Although I knew how to braid, I rarely did much with my hair, beyond keeping it moisturized and occasionally bleaching in blonde streaks.
Naturally, I kept my hands and feet done, because nobody wanted no crusty damn feet.
I also would get my brows micro-bladed, and had to buy myself at least one pair of Jordans a month, because I was an official sneaker head.
Outside of that…I was holding my man down, while he did his time, and spent most of my free time either watching other people’s kids or reading a good Urban fiction book on my Kindle.
Living in the hood, I can admit that my hobbies weren’t very common, but I was no oddball.
Frankly, most people who knew me would probably think that I’m lying about reading books throughout most of my nights.
Growing up, I had always been kind of Tom boyish and mostly hung with my nigga.
Would ride shotgun and hold that pistol and work too.
In fact, I had been with Too Low since I was thirteen.
He was my first everything. My only too. And he’d kept me out the way.
It was funny how my brother QT was so well known throughout the hood, but only his closest friends even knew that he had a sister.
I wasn’t in the mix like that. Never a part of any gossip.
Wasn’t messy. And only fucked with who I fucked with.
I never really hung outside as a child. Then Too Low scooped me up, and preferred to keep me close.
So, you only knew me if you knew me. As the bitches would say… I didn’t have main character energy.
I didn’t care for the spotlight. Didn’t want the niggas to see me. So, whenever there was a crowd, I’d fade into the background.