Abnormal Lives (10 page)

Three weeks later, Paris sat in the kitchen doing his homework, taking in the fumes of his parents' marijuana smoke, when he heard someone pounding on the door. Paris's father opened the door. Larry fell on him, screaming for help.

“Oh God, help me!” Larry screamed. “They're after me; they trying to kill me!”

Paris's mother ran to the phone and called the police. Paris's father tried to get Larry to take a seat on the couch but Larry refused and continued to say someone was trying to kill him. When the police arrived, they called crisis intervention for Larry and he was committed to the psycho ward until he was able to function in society again.

While Larry was in the psycho ward, his home was foreclosed on. Paris was pleased. Revenge was sweet. He felt powerful, so powerful that he had taken his father's advice and decided to play with other boys in the neighborhood. He was not worried about anyone breaking his heart; he pitied the fool who did.

8

S
tefan drew his attention away from the road long enough to roll his eyes. “I swear, I could strangle your ass for that shit last night.”

Simone sank down in her seat and laughed.

“You think that shit's funny, huh?”

“Shit, don't blame me,” Simone said. “It ain't my fault.”

“The hell if it ain't.”

“The hell if it is. Why it got to be my fault?”

“'Cause of this, ‘Ivan, do you mind if my cousin comes along,'” Stefan said, mimicking Simone.

“Whatever; I didn't force you to come along.”

Stefan nodded his head. “I know.”

“Awight then, you came 'cause you wanted that money.”

“True, but goddamn, I could've done without rolling around with his weird repulsive ass.”

Simone looked at Stefan and grinned. “Whatever; you loved it.”

Stefan drew back his hand. “Don't make me slap your ass.”

Simone laughed. “Shit, I ain't worried.”

“Your ass ain't smart enough to be worried.”

“Don't keep fucking with me, Stefan. You must've forgotten about the ice pick in my glove compartment. Don't think I won't use it on your ass.”

Stefan sucked his teeth. “Oh yeah, don't think I won't whip your ass and toss you out your own damn car.”

“Oh, you'd do me like that?”

Stefan looked over at Simone, making eye contact with her. “You ain't know?”

Simone threw her head back and laughed at the threats they made against each other.

Stefan looked over at Simone and smiled. “Girl, you're a retard; I don't know where the hell they got you from.”

“Me either,” Simone said. “All jokes aside, why you still holding onto that shit? You act like we out recruiting mates. We're only trying to get some paper.”

“Yeah, but it helps when they look like something. He could've at least taken a bath. Goddamn.”

Simone giggled. “Was he funky?”

“Funky ain't the word. And when he whipped out that pinky of his, I thought I was gonna faint.”

Simone leaned on Stefan and tugged on his shirt as she laughed.

Stefan nudged Simone off of him. “Damn, girl; calm down before you make me wreck this car.”

Simone sank back down in her seat. “Well, I know why Ivan loves working his tongue so much.”

“Why is that?”

“'Cause he got a dick like a Ring Pop.”

“You lying.”

“The hell if I am,” Simone said. “I had a hard time prying that joint from between his balls.”

“Serves you right.”

Simone and Stefan sat in the parking lot of the auto detail shop, frustrated by the sight of all the cars that waited to be serviced.

Simone got out of the car and took a deep breath. “Damn, looks like we're gonna be here for awhile.”

“I don't know what you're complaining for; it's your damn car,” Stefan said. “And the last time we were here, you met four new clients.”

“You did, too.”

“Only because I met them through the guys you met,” Stefan said. “These bastards up in here be hiding behind their newspapers when I walk by, too damn scared to come out the closet.”

“Whatever,” Simone said. “Just bring your ass in here and sit pretty. You never know; you might meet some new money.”

Simone paused to admire the car parked directly in front of the door. She was taken by the way it appeared translucent as it reflected her image. She ran her fingers across the door.

“What kind of car is this?”

“It's a Bentley,” Stefan answered.

“If I was driving this bad boy, couldn't nobody say shit to me.”

“I bet they couldn't. They already can't tell you shit when you driving around in that slob,” Stefan joked.

Simone looked at Stefan with a raised eyebrow. “It's Saab, bitch; don't make me hurt you.”

“Yeah right,” Stefan said. “Anyway, I can't believe you've never seen one before.”

“How many people in this city do you think drive a Bentley?”

“A few; if you hoed outside the neighborhood more often, you would've seen one by now.”

Simone waved Stefan off and continued into the shop, swaying her hips until she reached the line for the service desk.

Simone huffed as she listened to the guy at the front of the line loudly dispute the amount of his bill while he searched his wallet for his credit card. Simone immediately became irritated.

Simone and Stefan didn't get home until four o'clock that morning. When Simone got out of the shower, she plopped down on the sofa instead of joining Stefan in the kitchen to eat the breakfast he had cooked. She was more interested in regaining the energy she'd lost during her sexually immoral acts than she was in filling her belly. A couple of hours later she woke up to the sound of Stefan clapping his hands above her head.

“Chop chop,” he said. “If you want to go to the detailing shop, you better get a move-on 'cause I plan to spend the evening with Eugene and there's a ton of shit I'd like to do before then.”

Simone had put so much thought into primping herself and ignoring Stefan's complaints that she had left the peach she'd planned to snack on during the ride there on the table. The taste of the chunk she'd bitten off before she'd left still lingered in her mouth as a reminder of her hunger and forgetfulness.

The annoying man holding up the line made her stomach roar.

Simone huffed. “If people don't want to pay for shit, they need to take their asses to the gas station down the street and have them teenagers posted up out there clean their shit for twenty dollars instead of holding me the fuck up.”

Simone's comment grabbed the attention of the sales associate and everyone who stood in line, except for the man in front who handed over his credit card, still expressing how displeased he was with the price.

Fuck this! Stefan's gonna stand his ass right here while I go to the snack machine
, Simone thought. “Stefan, wait in line for me. I'm going to the snack machine.”

“Sure, why would I mind? I played chauffeur for you this morning; I'm sure I can handle one little business transaction while you carry your fat ass to get a snack,” Stefan said. “Hell, you want me to digest your food for you?”

The employees drew their attention away from their duties and the customers who sat in the waiting area peered from behind their newspapers and magazines as if they were about to witness a fight. The guy who was making his way out of the door after holding up the line paused and looked back to watch them carry on.

Stefan turned his nose up at his audience. “What the fuck y'all looking at? I mean, goddamn, can I help y'all with something?”

Simone shook her head and made her way to the vending area.

“Hurry up and make sure you bring me something back,” Stefan said, as Simone walked off.

Simone stood in front of the snack machine holding two bottles of water between the fingers of her right hand while she debated on what to get for her and Stefan to snack on. She really wanted a candy bar but didn't want Stefan to ridicule her for eating it the entire time they waited to be serviced. The day had barely started and Stefan had already managed to piss her off. He had a way of dramatizing things. He could create drama from scratch; he didn't need an antagonist. He did a damn good job by himself. The attacks on her weight were getting old. Yeah, she was a little heavy in the hip area but she was far from fat and the words “fat” and “ass” that were constantly rolling off of Stefan's tongue were starting to become more annoying than a scratched CD.

Simone decided to get two bags of baked chips and leave it at that. She reached down to retrieve her items from the vending machine and felt someone place their hands on her waist. She immediately turned around to lay eyes on the person who had the nerve to do such a thing. They were going to get cursed, that she knew for sure. But as soon as she caught sight of the perpetrator, she changed her mind. There was something about his smooth, fudge-colored skin and able body that mellowed her mood. And once he smiled and revealed how deep his gorgeous
dimples were, she wanted to run her fingers over the deep, dark waves that were magnified by his Caesar haircut.

Simone removed his hands from her waist. “It's not nice to touch things that don't belong to you.”

“Oh, is that right?”

Simone nodded.

“That's funny; you didn't seem to feel that way when you were outside probing my car.”

Simone was baffled; she hadn't considered that the owner of the car might be looking out the window watching her while she stood outside admiring and touching his property. “Oh yeah, you're the man who was holding up the line when I came in. I hope I didn't leave any fingerprints on your car. You seemed to be having a hard time parting with your money at the service desk. I wouldn't want to put you out-of-pocket. I can't imagine how much that would inconvenience you. Or did you come in here to ask me to reimburse you?”

“No, I thought you could make it up to me another way.”

“How's that?”

The man looked at Simone and smiled. “By letting me take you out to dinner.”

“That does mean you're paying, right? 'Cause I ain't paying for nothing.”

“Did I ask you to pay for it?”

“Naw, but—”

“Awright then. I don't know what you're used to, ma, but it ain't like that with me.”

Simone sighed. “Oh, for real?”

“Yeah, for real. I got my own money. I can pay my own way.”

“It sure didn't seem that way a few minutes ago.”

“What? Let me ask you something. If someone charged you
for something that you didn't buy, would you pay for it regardless of how much money you had?”

Simone shook her head. “Probably not.”

“Then why hold that against me?”

Simone nodded. “Well, where do you get this money from?”

“Excuse me.”

“This money you got that you can pay your own way with. Where'd you get it?”