Read Online Nice Guys Don't Finish Last by Chavez Brown - Free Book Online

tattoos, drugs, sharing razors, infected glass in plastic bags that may pinch your skin… you know,” he stated like he informed a clueless bimbo.
“Yeah, the only thing you forgot is I do not do drugs, nor get tattoos. I do have a B.A. so I am aware how you can retrieve it,” I stated precisely.
“Nico, why do you constantly throw your education in everything? If you know the many ways of contracting H.I.V, then why justify sex as the only reason,” he whispered.
“I don’t throw education in every situation. But you told me something I already know. I am not justifying sex, but it would be the most appropriate one that applies to me.”
“And why is that?”
“Because I don’t do any of the other things, besides have sex. Duh,” I said.
“Oh, I get it! You are underhandedly asking me if I cheated on you again and if I gave you a disease,” he smiled with a mixed irritable glare in his eyes.
“Well did you?”
“Yes, I did! I fucked a boy a few months ago in the back of a movie theatre and also got some head from one of the clients at the detention center. You know, oral sex is the easiest way to catch diseases now-a-days, maybe I got it from him,” he said as he set his earphones on his ears attached to an IPOD Touch.
“I fucking hate you,” I said snatching the left hand ear piece from out of his hands.
“What? I’m just giving you what you ask for. You’re not going to be satisfied until I actually fuck somebody else,” he snatched the ear piece back and rolled his eyes.
“You probably already did! You did it before, I am sure you would do it again.”
Abdul jumped up quickly, like a sumo wrestler anguishing away dressed in a crèam drenched knitted sweater and dark denim jeans.
“Where are you going,” I asked as he ignored my question initiating the entire hospital to hear the echoes of my voice serenade the hallways. Everyone stopped their tracks to stare at me, and unfroze after I gave the most unflattering snicker ever.
“Is there a Nicolas Bilae,” the nurse asked while smacking her gum in the air and holding a brown clipboard in her hand.
“It’s NICOLAS BILAL!”
“Mmmhmm, what a nice name! You must be Spanish or something?”
“Naw, all Black,” I gritted my teeth with an unpleasant smile as I followed her to the room. The back of her hair was bushy & matted to her head reminiscent to Jill Scott’s calamitous do in ‘Long Walk’ video. Some people do not believe in relaxers anymore, the ‘natural’ style does not work for nappy head sisters.
“Dr. Moore will be with you shortly,” she smiled with a gold crown in the front of her tooth and I could not for the life of me figure out how she received a nursing degree.
“Okay,” I said as she walked out. I couldn’t wrap my finger around this meeting with an unknown doctor. The room was collaged with “Flu Shots”, “Preventing STD’s”, “Birth Control Pills”, & “Living with H.I.V” posters instantly seized my breath away, whilst clenching my fingers on the hospital bed.
“Mr. Bilal,” a female knocked on the door twice.
“Come on in,” I said.
“Hey,” a Caucasian specialist with a chic blonde bob & smock walked in. She looked more like a catalog model than certified doctor.
“Hello, Dr. Moore. It’s about time,” I laughed.
“I apologize we are extremely busy today. But I am happy to see you made it,” she said as my heart skipped a beat, I thought it would burst out of my chest.
“Firstly, I called you in because an earlier liaison listed you as one of his sexual partners.”
“Listed me? It must be some kind of mistake, who is this person,” I squint my eyes relied on the clouds hung in the ceiling.
“Well you are Nicolas Bilal, born July 7 th 1986 right?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Well, the person listed you as one of his sexual partners, whose name will not be disclosed,” she said two feet away from me glancing at a sheet of paper clipped on a notepad. The question burned inside my lungs like