Black reign saga, p.3
Black Reign Saga, page 3
The summer seemed so short, Angela thought; another week and school’s going to be in session. She sat on the couch flipping channels, feeling like life couldn’t get any better. It was the weekend, and after the week she had, she was trying to enjoy doing nothing. Just then the phone rang.
“Hello.”
“What’s up, girl?” It was Monica.
“Nothin’. Just enjoyin’ the day doin’ nothin’.”
“You want to go to Pizzazz tonight?”
“Where?”
“Granby Street,” Monica said in an excited manner. “I want to check out that club Pizzazz, where the niggas poppin’ that Don and Crissy.”
“I don’t care; it really don’t sound bad.”
“I’ll be home in a little bit.”
Angela ran in the room to find something to wear. For the club, I have to have a little something, something to entice the fellows, and I really don’t have shit.
The ring of the phone disturbed her train of thought. She glanced at the caller ID to see it was Ray. She picked it up quickly. “Hello.”
“What you doin’?”
“Nothin’. Just tryin’ to find somethin’ to wear.”
“You comin’ by to see me?”
“I’ve been running all week, Ray. I figured I would just relax. You can come by here for a little while.”
“Okay, I’ll see you later on.”
“How later? Monica and I are goin’ to the club later.”
“Thought you were so tired. I’ll give you a call tomorrow.” Ray hung up.
“Hello . . . hello . . .”
Angela slammed down the phone. “I love that nigga, but he’s starting to get on my muthafuckin’ nerves—acting like a fuckin’ bitch. If he was any kind of man, he’d be over here fuckin’ the hell out of me, so I wouldn’t have the energy to fuck with anybody else . . . instead of acting like a jealous kid.”
She was mumbling now and tossing things around with a little more force than usual. Then she realized nobody was there. I am not going to be worried, not today. She continued to look for something to wear until she heard Monica come in.
“Got any company?” Monica yelled.
“Naw, girl, I’m chillin’.”
“I hope you naked,” Rome said loudly, “’cause I’m comin’ in.” He walked into her room.
“What’s up, Rome?”
“Ready to hit the club, find a little something, something.”
“You look nice, Rome,” Angela said.
“I know.” Rome started pulling weed and a White Owl out of his pocket.
“Look at Rome, Angela,” Monica said, “with his Calvin Klein gear, lookin’ all good.”
“Where did y’all hook up?” Angela asked.
“I was coming out of Hair Art, and he was going in Clippers, the barbershop next door. He started talking about going to Pizzazz, so I figured we all might swing out together and have a ball.”
“So,” Angela asked, “where you goin’ to stay, Rome? On campus or what?”
“Naw, my brother got a spot in Hampton, so I’m gonna chill over there—rent-free, nigga.”
“That shit worked out for ya, didn’t it?” Monica put in Mobb Deep’s CD. She and Angela sat down as Rome lit the White Owl, knowing how slow it was going to burn. They knew their head would be right for the club.
“CD’s are over there and some Heinekens are in the ’frigerator,” Monica said to Rome as she walked to her room to get dressed.
“Hurry the hell up,” Rome said real low and slow as if the weed was affecting him. “Don’t be like my goddamn sister.”
“Shut your high ass up, nigga,” Angela said.
Rome reached in his pocket and pulled out a coin. “Heads, I wash Angela back; tails, I wash Monica back—really, I don’t give a fuck which one I clean.” He smiled.
“Lock your door, Monica,” Angela yelled out going into her room. “Nigga’s bein’ nasty.”
Rome laughed so hard, he began choking. Then he sat down to finish the slow-burning White Owl.
Chapter Four
Rome pulled up in front of the club to check the crowd. The line was just down the building, so it was beginning to pack up. He cruised real slow past the crowd of people. He knew the two fine-ass bitches in the car made niggas admire him, and the Lex made bitches want him. He felt like the man. He was so glad Bo was letting him drive it, but it was only for a minute, only while Bo was in the rough hanging on the corner trying to get. So for tonight he thought, GS300 do your thing, do your thing.
They parked and went inside the club, thinking about the fake ID’s getting them over again. They thought the wait would be longer than it was, but the line moved pretty quickly. They eased to the third floor. Rome leaned over to the bar to order a drink.
“You not buyin’ us a drink?” Angela asked.
“Just because I drive my brother’s car don’t mean I have his pocket.” Rome had a smirk, like he was lying.
“We didn’t ask you all that,” Monica said.
“Is flat no better for ya? Just stand there and look pretty. Stick your ass out a little and y’all will have a drink in your hand in no time.”
“Look what she got on.”
“Look at that bitch head,” Monica added.
Angela laughed. “She could of did better than that—”
“Excuse me,” a dark-skinned brother interrupted, “I’m tryin’ to get a drink.”
They turned and looked at him; his accent caught them off guard. They stepped over to let him pass, checking out this rude man with what seemed to be an attitude. He stood about five foot nine, medium build, slight to the slim side, and had a close cut and a perfectly shaped beard. The gear he wore complemented his physique and the occasion. His beige linen pants that tied in the front and his silk brown shirt won him points for coordination.
As the bartender sat his drink on the counter, the stranger turned to reach in his pocket and caught Monica’s eye. “I’m sorry—would you ladies like a drink? Tell her what you want.”
“Alizé please,” Monica said.
“And you?” He stared straight into Angela’s eyes. She was very attractive to him. In his mind, he’d had her before. Or a bitch just like her.
She stared back. His long eyelashes and sleepy eyes made her weak, but the scar on his neck and the tattoo on his forearm made her see a man that was not for her. “The same,” Angela told the bartender.
The stranger pulled a small stack of brand-new money out his pocket, pulled off a fifty, and gave it to the bartender. They couldn’t help noticing the thick gold bracelet that matched the chain with the iced-out medallion around his neck. He picked up the drinks and handed them to the girls. That’s when they caught a glimpse of the beautiful gold Rolex with the diamond face.
It sent chills through Angela’s body. He didn’t look as good as Ray, but his style and persona made up for it in every way. She instantly took him as thug, a hustler, and she made a promise to herself that she was never going to go that route.
“Thank you,” the girls said smiling.
“No problem. It was my pleasure. What’s your name?” He looked at Monica.
“I’m Monica, and that’s Angela. Where you from?”
“Trinidad.”
Actually he was from Jamaica, but he knew they wouldn’t know the difference. And, really, it wasn’t their business.
“My name is Damien.” He reached out to shake their hands. “It was very nice meeting you both.” He looked into Angela’s eyes. “Hope I see you around.” He touched her on her slim waist and moved her out of his path.
Angela didn’t like him touching her, but he did it so smooth, she didn’t say a word.
They went to sit down and check out the crowd when this tall dark-skin brother with braids stepped up to Monica. Within minutes she was on the floor throwing down.
Angela sipped her drink and stared at her friend, trying to figure out what Monica actually saw in these thug-type niggas. Every nigga she talked to was straight hood, except for Quinn—he was a soft thug. He played thug, he dressed thuggish, but he was really soft.
As Angela’s drink emptied, the waitress replaced it with another. “Who sent it over?”
When the waitress turned to point, the man was gone. She described what he had on, and Angela knew it was Damien. She scanned the club for him and saw nothing. Later, when she was on the floor dancing, she caught herself looking around to see if she saw him. He wasn’t all that, she thought. No better-lookin’ than the other guys in the club, but his style . . .
After the club, they were all standing outside. Rome had begun talking to this young lady. After his conversation got going, Angela and Monica headed to the car.
Monica got close to Rome and said loudly, “I know you not out here disrespectin’ me . . . not in my face.” Then she and Angela started laughing. So did the girl he was talking to and her friends.
“Girl, I’m hungry,” the girl said to her friends.
“We gonna stop at IHOP on the way home,” her friend responded.
“Which one you goin’ to?” Rome asked.
“On Battlefield Boulevard,” she said.
“Me too, shorty. I’ll check you there.” Rome walked off with Monica and Angela.
“If we ride way out there with you, boy, you gonna feed us,” Angela said.
“For real. I’m hungry too. Goin’ all the way out there behind some bitch—she ain’t gonna give you none no way.”
“Shit, she gonna give some to this Lex.”
“It ain’t even yours,” Monica reminded him.
“By the time she find out, it will be too late.” Rome grabbed his dick. “I’ll be done fucked.”
They reached IHOP the same time as the girl Rome was talking to did. He said, “Peep that shit.”
Angela agreed. “Damn, that shit is nice.”
“Sittin’ on all that chrome, windows tinted. Couldn’t tell a bitch shit if I had that.”
Angela got out the car. “That Land Cruiser is beautiful.”
The girls Rome was talking to parked beside the truck.
“Come here, y’all. Get a table,” Rome said to Angela and Monica. They walked inside and were waiting to be seated.
Angela pointed to the corner. “Look, that’s that boy from the club.”
“Damien.”
Before they could even sit down, Rome came in and joined them. “Missed out,” Monica said.
“Naw, I’m goin’ over there after I drop y’all off—so hurry the hell up.”
“You comin’ way back out here?” Angela asked.
“Her crew live out here; she lives off Hampton Boulevard.”
“Be careful, boy. Don’t let that bitch get you in no shit,” Monica warned. “I know she probably got mad niggas.”
“Why you say that?”
Angela told him, “Tellin’ you to come over and she just met you. You ain’t the first guy she allowed to do that.”
“I know she ain’t got no man,” Monica added, “if she out here with her ass all out in that short-ass skirt. And her shirt’s too small—bitch titties about to bust the goddamn buttons. Just don’t be hardheaded, and be careful.”
They had known Rome since Bayside Middle School and they had all hung out many nights before, from middle-school dances to Lake Edward house parties. And now they’d all be going to Hampton. They knew there’d be more good times to come. They also knew a lot of girls had a lot of shit with them. They didn’t know her, but the way she was dressed—her weaved-in, long blond hair was put up in a french twist, and her nails were real long with airbrush designs—Monica and Angela knew the girl was fly. But fly girls can bring drama, and they didn’t want Rome in no shit.
The girl walked over to Rome to tell him she would be home in about thirty minutes. She spoke to Monica and Angela and had a pleasant attitude. Even though they had negative thoughts about her, they could see why Rome was attracted to her. They noticed that her body was just as tight as theirs, but she had age on them. They also knew to keep her nails and hair up didn’t come cheap. As the girl walked off, she took one last glance at Monica and Angela. She knew she had her shit straight, but she would give anything to have the natural beauty that Monica and Angela possessed.
As they got up to leave, Damien was at the counter paying for his meal. “Thanks for the other drink,” Angela told him. “I didn’t get a chance to say it in the club.”
“No thanks is necessary, pretty girl,” he said with a partial smile and walked out the door. He didn’t even try to converse with her.
He’s so short-spoken.
Angela watched as the other females tried to get his attention, but he ignored them, climbed in his truck, and backed out.
“That ain’t no Land Cruiser, that’s a LX450 Lexus.” Rome looked at Monica and Angela. “Is Hampton goin’ to bless me with one of those?”
“We’ll see, starting next week,” Monica said.
Angela looked at Damien’s truck as he pulled off, and with thoughts going through her mind, she started toward the car. She didn’t know what he did, but he didn’t look as if he was worried. But why was he by himself . . . with that truck, jewelry, and money? Why was he goin’ home by himself? She sat in silence until Rome pulled in front of their building to drop them off.
“I’ll get with y’all later,” he said.
“Call us tomorrow,” Angela said.
“I’m goin’ to page you early,” Monica said, “and you better call me back.”
It was Monday morning and Angela didn’t feel like going to orientation. She pushed herself to the shower, threw on her sweatsuit, and ran out. She arrived on campus and looked around for Ogden Hall. She realized she was a long way from high school. She started across the parking lot in time to see Rome pulling up in his Honda Accord. It wasn’t the Lex, but it was his and it was dependable.
“What’s up, girl? Ready for this shit?”
“Ready as I’m gonna get.”
“Where is Monica?”
“She should be here. She stayed home last night.”
“You stayed home with Ray last night?”
“He came over for a little while, but he didn’t stay. He was still upset about Saturday night. He jumps to conclusions and wants to act all jealous and shit. Rome, you know I ain’t doin’ shit, and I haven’t given him any reason to get attitudes with me. I love Ray, but that shit’s gettin’ old.”
“Tell him. You have to let a nigga know when he’s pushin’ you away.”
“Right.”
They both heard a voice hollering their names. It was Monica coming across the lot. “What’s up, family?” she said smiling. Then she punched Rome. “You was suppose to call yesterday.”
“I chilled out with Quanita.” He shook his head up and down like a kid with a secret.
“Who the hell is Quanita?” Monica asked as they strolled into the building.
“Girl from the club Saturday.”
“That’s the hoochie momma name?” Angela asked.
“The hoochie is real chill. I got over there Saturday night. She came to the door in a long T-shirt. We smoked a blunt, and all she wanted to do was talk. But I actually enjoyed her company, even though I wanted to hit. I picked her up yesterday in the Honda. We went and checked out a movie and got a bite to eat. Then we went back to her spot, and she broke a nigga off lovely.”
“For real?” Monica asked.
“I’m going to keep seeing her. She’s a junior at Old Dominion. She seems to be pretty focused, and plus, she got the bomb shit.” Rome peeked around the room. “These bitches fine as hell—I’m goin’ to have a ball over here.”
The next week was full of campus tours and seminars. This was Labor Day weekend and after this weekend, it was straight business. Playtime was over. Monica and Angela decided to go to the Norfolk State game at ODU. It was always the shit.
The after-party was supposed to be at Pizzazz, but they decided to ride down the oceanfront. After strolling the strip for a while, things started to settle down and they were getting tired. “I’m ready to get a bath, kick back on the sofa, and chill,” Angela said.
“Let’s stop out Lake Edward and get us a dime sack first,” Monica suggested. “You know we need that.”
They started back up Atlantic Avenue toward Fortieth Street where they were parked. As they reached the corner of Thirty-second and Atlantic, they saw Damien and another guy walking up from Pacific Avenue. They stopped and waited for them to approach.
“Hello, ladies,” Damien said, “this is my brother. He goes to Norfolk State.”
Angela and Monica spoke, but never took their eyes off Damien. His brother, tall and lanky with dreads, no jewels, and a different color beaded necklace, was nothing like him.
“I keep running into you. It must be meant for us to spend some time together, or at least talk and get to know one another.” Damien moved closer to Angela and looked into her eyes.
“Is that right?”
“Look, I’m having a small barbecue tomorrow. It’s going to start about five. Page me, and I’ll give you the directions, okay? Bring Monica along. You both should enjoy yourselves.”
They agreed to call and headed home. “We goin’ to his cookout?”
“I don’t know. I’m still kind of unsure about him; I’m not tryin’ to get mixed up in any shit.”
“He just asked you to come to a cookout, not move the fuck in with him. He probably got a girl anyway.”
“No bullshit.”
Chapter Five
“I’ll see you in a little while,” Angela yelled as she walked out the door Sunday morning. It was early, but she was used to getting up for the early morning service instead of waiting until 11:30. She never cared for church too much and usually got upset with her mom for making her go, but ever since her mom and Ken joined The Faith Uphold Christian Center, she kind of looked forward to going.
As she sat in church, she listened to the pastor go from Scripture to reality, and reality to Scripture. The pastor’s theme was, “You don’t know what God has in store.” She then realized that God would not allow her life to be turned around by sending a hustlin’-ass player to stand in her path. Maybe she would meet a successful businessman or doctor like Ken, someone who would push her, stand beside her, like she had always seen him do for her mother. I’m not supposed to be thinking about men in church. My mind is supposed to be on what blessings God has in store for me, not what man is trying to interrupt my life.
