Page 12 of Search My Soul
“Momma said we aren’t supposed to tell anyone what goes on in our household,” West mumbled with his head down.
“I don’t care about any of that. I’m your sister, and if something is going on, I need to know about it, Riya. Spill it.” She sat there twirling her fork around with her eyes looking behind me.
“Mom’s gonna be mad at us, Nee-nee. You don’t live there, so you don’t have to deal with her the way we do.”
“Trust me, I get it. However, if there is an issue, then I might be able to fix it.” I reasoned. My leg bounced under the table because I had a feeling I would be cussing Rochelle out before the night ended.
“We don’t have any food in the house.”
“What did you say?” I thought maybe my ears were deceiving me, because on top of Rochelle having a job, she got hundreds of dollars in food stamps every month. The reason I knew was because she used to sell them to my aunts and my cousins would tell me about it. I saw one of their receipts, and her starting balance was $680. There were only three of them in the house, so there was no way they should be without food.
“Momma gets her food stamps on the third, but between her selling them and her and daddy cooking steaks and lobster,she never has anything left. She usually buys us some noodles, cereal, and ravioli to last us, but it isn’t enough. Whenever we tell her we’re hungry, she tells us to figure it out. I’ve been eating at school and trying to save the rest for later.”
“We asked if we could call and ask you for money, but she beat us both with a cord and told us to keep our mouths shut.” West wiped the tears from his face while I attempted to conceal my anger.
“Sissy, please don’t overreact,” Riya pleaded, but I was struggling to calm down. “I only have two years left, and I’ll be eighteen. I plan on getting a place so West can come live with me. You know how Momma acts, and I don’t want you to do anything because then she’ll keep you away from us. I can’t go through that again.”
“Why would you keep something like this from me?” I stood up from the table to throw my trash away. Riya and West followed after me as I headed to the parking lot with our bags in hand. Over the years, I had allowed Rochelle to get away with a lot because I wanted to have access to my siblings.
“Nee-nee, please don’t do anything stupid,” Riya cried while buckling her seat belt. I tuned her out as I made my way back to their house.
When we pulled up to the house, I was disappointed when her car wasn’t parked in the driveway because I had every intention of slapping the taste out of her mouth. The good Lord was on her side, but she couldn’t avoid me forever. This was another reminder that I needed to get my life in order so I could move them in with me. It was either that, or I would end up killing her.
“Damn,girl. Come over and talk to me for a second.” Kye from the Eastside Rogue’s cat called me. I rolled my eyes as I switched right past him. A few girls from our old neighborhood messed with him and they all said he had a shrimp dick. I was the type to hurt a niggas’ feelings, so it was best if he steered clear of me.
“I can’t wait to see Masego and Dash perform. Manny told me that Rule Graham will be making a guest appearance too. That man used to be on every poster in my house when I was a teenager. I’m glad I brought an extra pair of underwear to throw on the stage.” My cousin, Kamesha, shouted over the music. She might have been a messy bitch, but she always had the hook-up. The men she dated were usually older with deep pockets and connections. This concert had been sold out for weeks, but oneof her men was a record label executive who was able to snag us two front-row tickets.
“They are fine, and they know how to work a stage.”
“They look like they can work a few other things as well. Especially Dash. His bowlegged self looks like he has a mean stroke game.” Kamesha purred as she twirled the ends of her freshly laid sew-in.
“I’m sure his wife would be able to answer that question better than anyone else.” I reminded her with judgment on my tongue.
“A wife ain’t never stopped shit for me before. All I need is five minutes with that fine ass man and I’ll change his life,” Kamesha boasted. I scoffed as we made our way through the crowd. This place was packed from wall to wall, so I knew we were about to have a good time. My only prayer was that their security didn’t drop the ball. These young fools liked to shoot for no reason at all, and I wasn’t going for that shit tonight.
Once we found our seats, I pulled out my phone to record a few videos before the show started. My outfit came together better than I imagined. The short leather shorts accentuated my curves while the black stockings toned down the outfit. I paired the shorts with a white drop top and a red, black, and white leather jacket with my black red-bottom boots and Dior shades. I decided to install my new body wave wig with a side part, and it came out perfectly. My makeup was flawless, and I was proud of myself. I was an impatient person, so I made sure to teach myself how to do my own self-maintenance just in case a bitch hit me with one of those “Hey Love” text messages trying to cancel at the last minute.
“Look at all you sexy ladies in the building! Are y’all ready to turn up with me and my boys tonight?” Masego shouted as he swaggered to the front of the stage.
“I see a couple of baddies that I might want to take home with me tonight.” The crowd went crazy as the intro to his song began to play. Just like I thought, the whole show was a vibe. All of the fellas got on stage and took the crowd on a ride. When Rule brought his daughter Reign on the stage, I think the entire crowd melted. She might have been young, but her voice sounded like a seasoned woman full of soul. The two of them together was the cutest thing I had ever seen.
After the concert, we decided to stop by Jenny’s, which was a twenty-four-hour diner. The food was decent when you were sober, but it tasted like Heaven when you were drunk. Kamesha’s fling of the week hooked us up with a driver for the night as well as complimentary bottles of liquor. I tried not to get too fucked up, but since I didn’t have to worry about how I would get home, I got a little carried away.
“I can taste the crunchy bacon and those thick ass pancakes right now.”
“I hope Ms. Pat is working today because I swear her food always tastes better than anyone else’s.” I chimed in. This had been the hangout spot for years. The owners had changed a few times, but Ms. Pat had been a cook here for at least twenty years. She added a little extra love in her cooking, and nobody could tell me anything differently.
“Well, you might not want to eat too many, or you’ll be busting out of your outfit.” Kamesha teased, although I found nothing funny about her little joke.
“Mmm, now that I think about it, I might get five pancakes instead of my usual three. Might as well do it big,” I responded with sarcasm laced in every word.
“There you go, getting all sensitive. I’m just trying to look out for you, you know? If you want a man with some real motion, you’ve got to give them something worth chasing. Otherwise, you’ll continue to end up with men who only want to see you atnight.” Her comment stung, but it wasn’t because of the men. It was because she reminded me of my mother.
In my mother’s eyes, Kamesha was the blueprint. She was prettier, her body was perfectly proportioned, and she had good hair. Whatever that meant. My mother would use every opportunity she could to make me feel like a fat slob while she praised Kamesha for simply existing.
“Welcome to Jenny’s! Take a seat wherever you’d like,” Ms. Pat yelled. I smiled brightly, knowing our food was about to be so good.
“Oh, let’s sit over here.” I followed Kamesha’s lead over to a table on the left in the corner. The moment I noticed the group of men sitting directly in front of it, I realized why. It never mattered how many men she had in her life; Kamesha loved to have the attention on her. It never bothered me because I always reaped the benefits of the attention she got. She had taken me on numerous shopping trips and last-minute vacations, courtesy of her sponsors.
