Page 37 of Wasn't Supposed To Be Yours
At the end of the day, it didn’t matter how old I was, there was still this little boy that lived in me that still craved to have that bond with my father. I think that’s the reason I clung to my uncle Roy the way that I did. He was the man in my life that was filling that void that my father never filled. I’d never said this aloud to anyone. I felt like it was soft shit to say, and I couldn’t see myself getting that vulnerable to ever let those thoughts leave my mind.
Fifteen minutes into me sitting out here, the sound of loud music came blasting down the street. At first, I didn’t think anything of it because with my grandma still staying in the hood, it wasn’t out of the ordinary to hear cars blasting loud music throughout the day. It was a black Hellcat that came cruising down the street, and other than the loud music that they were blasting, it was the way that the car slowed down once they reached my grandma’s house that alerted me.
Quick on my feet, always having that third eye to spot out some bullshit, I rose up from the porch step, and I purposely tapped at my hip, needing them to know that I had that shit on me as I walked down the driveway, out of the silver gate that separated my grandma’s house from the road, making my way over to them.
The window rolled down, and smoke filled the air. So much smoke came out of the car, that it took me a few seconds to spotthat there were two people in the car. I’ve never seen these two niggas before a day in my life. They were younger than me for sure. They looked to be in their early twenties. I could look at niggas and tell when they were up to good, and that’s the kind of vibe that I was getting from them. The black hoodies, the tattoos on their faces, the dark tents on the window, and as I was squinting inside, I could see two Glocks that were sitting in the cupholder.
Clearing my throat, I stepped a little closer.
“Ya’ll niggas good?” I asked, getting right to the point.
“We good. We here to see Rico. He here?” he asked. Hearing this nigga question me about my little cousin, made my jaw flinch. I was proud of Rico for making it out of the hood, going to school, and playing ball, so that he didn’t have to get wrapped up in a life like the kind that I could tell these two were out here living.
“He not here. What you want with my little cousin?” I lied.
On my timing, I wasn’t about to call my little cousin out here so that he could chop it up with these niggas. I’ve only been around them for one minute, and everything about their whole vibe was telling me that they couldn’t be trusted.
My response caused both dudes to laugh.
“Nigga, his Donk right there. What you get out of lying to me, telling me that my nigga not here?” the driver asked me. Really not wanting my cousin around these niggas, I forgot the fact that Rico’s Donk was pulled right into my grandma’s driveway, right along with the rest of our cars.
I turned my head, so that I could look at Rico’s car. His shit was nice. It was a 1973 Chevy Caprice convertible. It was painted in a custom candy emerald green, and because he kept the top down on it, you could see the white leather, that had green stitching on it. Big 28” chrome wheels were on it, and it was a statement car. As beautiful as that whip was, it was somethingthat myself, and my uncle Roy hated that nigga to be driving in because you would see the whip and know that it was him. He’s done so much to that car, always posting the upgrades on social media, so everyone knew that it was his.
Rico was a young nigga getting money, liking to wear his big chains and shit, and Miami could be a grimy city, with hating ass niggas, so I just didn’t want the wrong person to pull up on him, and try to take him for everything that he had.
Before I could even respond back to the dude, I heard the front door of the house opening from behind me. I turned around, and it was Rico coming out. He did a quick jog down the stairs, and he made his way over to the car.
“Toby, what’s good nigga?” Rico asked, reaching his hand in, and he slapped it up with the driver, that I now knew as Toby. As Toby was slapping it up with Rico, he had his eyes on me the entire time, and he was mugging me, just as I was doing to him.
“Nigga, I didn’t know you had security now” Toby said to Rico, nodding his head over in my direction. Rico turned his head, looked at me, and he smiled.
“Man, this my big cousin, Tank. He not my security. The nigga just love me and give a fuck about me. Tank, let me holla at my niggas right quick. I’ll meet you back on the porch,” Rico said to me.
At the end of the day, Rico was a grown ass man, so as much as I wanted him away from these dudes, I couldn’t pull him by his ear and drag him to the porch. It was so much rebuttal that I wanted to give him, but I backed off, allowing him to have his moment with his friends.
I went over to the porch, and instead of sitting back down, I stood. I stood with my hands in my pockets, and the whole time, I had my eyes on that nigga Toby. I needed him to feel the pressure that I had with him, and the fact that I was getting thewrong kind of vibes just from the short amount of time that I’ve been around him.
Whatever conversation that Rico had with them, it was short. It didn’t last longer than seven minutes. I watched as Rico reached his hand in, slapped it up with both dudes that was in the car, and then he backed away.
Before Toby drove off, he took one last look at me, rolled the window up, blasted his music, and then he sped off. I was itching for Rico to make it over to me, so that I could find out what the fuck that was all about.
He eventually came over, and once he did, he stood on the right of me.
“How you know them niggas?” was the first thing that I asked him.
“I went to school with them. They cousins. The driver’s name is Toby, and the one in the passenger seat, that’s Jax. I can already tell you about to try and go there with me, so let me stop you. They a little wild, but they good niggas. I grew up with them. I been knowing them dudes since we were in middle school,” he shared, and I nodded.
“What business you got with them?” I asked. He laughed when I asked him that, and that’s what had me turning my head, so that I could look him in his eyes.
“What you mean what business I got with them? Nigga, I don’t have any kind of business with them. I posted on my Instagram story before I got here, showing me driving, and Toby hit me, asking me where I was going, so that he could pull up on me. I been busy with classes, and football, so I haven’t seen them niggas in a little bit. That’s the only reason why he came over here,” he responded, eyes dancing everywhere but on me, as he shared this bullshit ass story with me.
I was one of those people that was going to call a liar out every time. If the bullshit that you were trying to sell me wasn’t adding up, I was going to make you aware of that.
I removed myself from where I was standing, walking over to Rico, so that I could stand right in front of him. I placed my hands behind my back, mugging the fuck out of him. It took a while for his eyes to focus on me, and once they did, I could tell that looking me in my eyes right now was the hardest shit in the world for him. That was the case because he knew that he wasn’t being truthful. If a nigga was telling the truth, they would have no problem with making proper eye contact with me.
“You can’t even look me in my eyes nigga, so that tells me all that I need to know about this situation. I was standing outside their car for no longer than two minutes, and I could already feel it in my gut that something about those dudes were off. Them niggas pulled up at your grandma crib. If they fucked with you the way that you think they do, they would have gotten out the car, gave your family the proper kind of respect by going inside and talking to them. They didn’t do that though. One look at you, and those clowns in the car, and you can tell that ya’ll don’t have shit in common. Ya’ll probably used to though. I’m sure they from the same hood as you, but that’s not the life that your living anymore. You made it out of that shit! You out here playing ball, and you made a name for your fuckin self. Niggas be inside sports bars, yelling at the TV, saying how that Rico nigga is a bad motha fucka!” I tapped him on his chest because I needed him to feel me.
“You made it out the slums. Got a full ride to go play ball. NFL coaches coming to your games, watching you play every weekend. You entertaining niggas that ain’t got shit to lose. I’m locked in when it comes to what’s going on in the world around me, and too many times I’ve seen situations where niggas like you that have talent, and the potential to be something great,get tied into running with the wrong crowd, and one fucked up decision can have you losing it all. Whatever the fuck you out here doing with them niggas, it can’t stay in the shadows forever. The dumb ass shit you mixed up in is going to eventually come to the light,” I finished, hitting him on his chest one last time, and I made my way back inside the house.
