says in a low voice. "I guess you're right.
So what's up? Is something wrong?"
"Naw. I'm tryin' to fuck when I get back tomorrow," he declares.
"Where you going?"
"Why?!" he yells.
"I'm just askin' 'cuz I want to know what time to be in the house."
"Man, I'm goin' to New York. And you need to be waitin' on me whenever the fuck I call."
"I know, Jay," she says softly. "I will."
"The fuck wrong wit' you? You beefin' 'bout what I said?"
"No, it's just that my hair is messed up and I want to find a job."
"So what, you askin' me for money?"
"No."
"Look, I'ma give you three hundred tomorrow, but don't think you gonna keep runnin' my pockets."
"Thank you, Jay -"
"Thank you shit," he says, cutting her off. "Make sure you got my pussy ready."
"Okay ..." she responds, trying to end an embarrassing moment. "I'll talk to you tomorrow." On the Baltimore-Washington Parkway, he hangs 68
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up without a response and decides to call Sky. Unlike when he calls Parade, he doesn't look forward to speaking to Sky. Lately, he's felt that she has become too high on herself, but her attitude is half his fault and half her parents'. They spoil that girl so much that she expects other people to do things for her instead of appreciating what is given.
"Hey, Sky. What you doin'?" he asks, although he really doesn't care.
"On my way to Miss Wayne's."
"Oh. Who you wit'?" he asks.
"I'm by myself, boy. Am I seeing you tonight?"
"Naw. I'm on my way to New York."
"So when was you gonna tell me?"
"I did but you was runnin' your mouth wit' that bitch."
"Naw, I don't remember all that, Jay," she says.
"But anyway, what's up with tomorrow?" she asks, hoping he'll have room for her then. "I miss you already."
"Maybe lada on that night. I got a lot of work to do.
Niggas been slippin' on the block lately, so I have to put them youngins back in check."
"Okay, baby. Don't keep me waiting too long. You don't want nobody else getting my attention, now do you?"
"No, Sky," he says, hating how she constantly throws other men in his face. "But look, I'll get up with you lada, a'ight. I was just callin' to check up on you right quick."
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Triple Crown Publications presents . . .
"Okay." She smiles. "You love me, right?"
"You know I do."
"I want to hear you say it, Jay. You neva tell me anymore."
"I love you. You betta now?"
"Kinda," she says. "Call me when you -" Jay hangs up before she can finish then speeds down the parkway toward New York. He wonders why Parade has been on his mind so much lately. He knows that it is just a matter of time before he cuts Sky off.
What he doesn't know is what that could mean for him and Parade.
70
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8
Daffany
MELVIN KNOCKS ON MY DOOR at least three times. I figure something is wrong and even though I don't want to, I decide to let him in. I ain't expecting or looking forward to company after last night. All I want is to be left alone.
Melvin was my john way before Parade started messing with him, so I am playing over and over in my head if it is possible for her to have this shit. I pray she doesn't, but really can't be sure. I mean, she ain't got no symptoms, but it ain't like I had symptoms either. I just went in for a checkup because my uncle died from it six months ago, and I wanted to make sure I was okay. When I did, I discovered I was positive. Ain't that something?
"Melvin, it's not cool for you to be comin' 'round here no more. You should keep checkin' with Parade yourself. Eventually she'll talk to you."
"I did, and she not accepting my calls," he says as he throws his short hands up in the air. He's sweating T. Styles
71
Triple Crown Publications presents . . .
despite the air conditioner being on full blast. His black shirt has a visible sweat stain under his chin and the dandruff from his hair is pasted on it.
"Well, give her some time. She'll come around," I say, trying to end our conversation so I can go back to
So what's up? Is something wrong?"
"Naw. I'm tryin' to fuck when I get back tomorrow," he declares.
"Where you going?"
"Why?!" he yells.
"I'm just askin' 'cuz I want to know what time to be in the house."
"Man, I'm goin' to New York. And you need to be waitin' on me whenever the fuck I call."
"I know, Jay," she says softly. "I will."
"The fuck wrong wit' you? You beefin' 'bout what I said?"
"No, it's just that my hair is messed up and I want to find a job."
"So what, you askin' me for money?"
"No."
"Look, I'ma give you three hundred tomorrow, but don't think you gonna keep runnin' my pockets."
"Thank you, Jay -"
"Thank you shit," he says, cutting her off. "Make sure you got my pussy ready."
"Okay ..." she responds, trying to end an embarrassing moment. "I'll talk to you tomorrow." On the Baltimore-Washington Parkway, he hangs 68
T. Styles
Black and Ugly
up without a response and decides to call Sky. Unlike when he calls Parade, he doesn't look forward to speaking to Sky. Lately, he's felt that she has become too high on herself, but her attitude is half his fault and half her parents'. They spoil that girl so much that she expects other people to do things for her instead of appreciating what is given.
"Hey, Sky. What you doin'?" he asks, although he really doesn't care.
"On my way to Miss Wayne's."
"Oh. Who you wit'?" he asks.
"I'm by myself, boy. Am I seeing you tonight?"
"Naw. I'm on my way to New York."
"So when was you gonna tell me?"
"I did but you was runnin' your mouth wit' that bitch."
"Naw, I don't remember all that, Jay," she says.
"But anyway, what's up with tomorrow?" she asks, hoping he'll have room for her then. "I miss you already."
"Maybe lada on that night. I got a lot of work to do.
Niggas been slippin' on the block lately, so I have to put them youngins back in check."
"Okay, baby. Don't keep me waiting too long. You don't want nobody else getting my attention, now do you?"
"No, Sky," he says, hating how she constantly throws other men in his face. "But look, I'll get up with you lada, a'ight. I was just callin' to check up on you right quick."
T. Styles
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Triple Crown Publications presents . . .
"Okay." She smiles. "You love me, right?"
"You know I do."
"I want to hear you say it, Jay. You neva tell me anymore."
"I love you. You betta now?"
"Kinda," she says. "Call me when you -" Jay hangs up before she can finish then speeds down the parkway toward New York. He wonders why Parade has been on his mind so much lately. He knows that it is just a matter of time before he cuts Sky off.
What he doesn't know is what that could mean for him and Parade.
70
T. Styles
Black and Ugly
8
Daffany
MELVIN KNOCKS ON MY DOOR at least three times. I figure something is wrong and even though I don't want to, I decide to let him in. I ain't expecting or looking forward to company after last night. All I want is to be left alone.
Melvin was my john way before Parade started messing with him, so I am playing over and over in my head if it is possible for her to have this shit. I pray she doesn't, but really can't be sure. I mean, she ain't got no symptoms, but it ain't like I had symptoms either. I just went in for a checkup because my uncle died from it six months ago, and I wanted to make sure I was okay. When I did, I discovered I was positive. Ain't that something?
"Melvin, it's not cool for you to be comin' 'round here no more. You should keep checkin' with Parade yourself. Eventually she'll talk to you."
"I did, and she not accepting my calls," he says as he throws his short hands up in the air. He's sweating T. Styles
71
Triple Crown Publications presents . . .
despite the air conditioner being on full blast. His black shirt has a visible sweat stain under his chin and the dandruff from his hair is pasted on it.
"Well, give her some time. She'll come around," I say, trying to end our conversation so I can go back to
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