Bad Apple - the Baddest Chick(25)
The body had been transported to the morgue, while the half-dozen cops still canvassed the neighborhood, trying to collect evidence and statements. Hours had passed since the killing, but the police still didn’t have any clues. Morning soon became afternoon, and gradually, the block was littered with foot traffic and nosy neighbors still inquiring about the shooting.
*****
Nichols walked down Lenox Avenue with her friend Dina. It was a beautiful afternoon, and the two young girls wanted to enjoy the summer day by looking at boys, window-shopping, and maybe, from the right store, shoplift a few items.
Nichols was clad in a short skirt, exposing her young, meaty thighs, and a loose T-shirt that hid her developing b-reasts.
Dina teased her, saying, “Yo, you gonna mess around and get us raped out here, looking like that. I wish I had your legs.”
“Please. Niggas is lookin’, but they know not to touch.” Nichols chuckled. “Besides, if he’s cute enough, maybe I’ll let him touch.”
Dina laughed. “Uh-huh, look at you. You talkin’ like Kola now.”
“Kola be doin’ her thang. She be gettin’ money and running these dudes out here,” Nichols said, glorifying her sister’s ways.
“And you wanna be next in line, right?” Dina asked.
“Maybe,” Nichols replied slowly.
“Now, you know you’re too much of a square to be like your sister, Nichols. That ain’t you. You’re too smart for that.”
Nichols changed her expression. She hated when her sisters and friends treated her like a bookworm who didn’t know any better. Though she was ignorant of the street life, she wanted to have her fun too. She wanted to be noticed and gawked at by the fellows and treated like she was a top model. Nichols knew she was pretty; in fact, it was the one good thing her mother had passed down to her and her sisters.
The summer was young and hot, and both girls just wanted to meet cute boys and run through Harlem like it was their personal playground. Nichols also wanted to party and experience the things she’d heard her sisters talk about. She wanted to lose her virginity, and she wanted to get out of her mother’s home and experience new things. She felt trapped in that filthy apartment.
Always stuck in Harlem, all Nichols knew was her projects and 125th Street. She was always cleaning and cooking, while her sisters ran the streets and their mother was getting f*cked by every Tom, Dick, and Harry. Taking the A train to Queens or riding the No. 6 train into the Bronx was something foreign to her.
Nichols and Dina slowly made their way toward the scene of the crime that took place early that morning. They were both stunned by the tangled yellow tape and bloodstained ground.
Walking up to a stranger, Nichols asked, “Yo, what happened?”
A thin, frail-looking man with rotten teeth turned to look at the young girls, a bagged bottle of whisky clutched in his fist. “Some nigga got shot.”
“Wow! Who?” Nichols asked with wide eyes.
“Don’t know. He dead, though,” the stranger stated.
Nichols looked around. Even though death had occurred in her neighborhood before, and she would always hear gunshots outside her bedroom window, she was still astounded that a murder had happened not too far from her home.
“That’s crazy,” Dina said.
The two looked at the scene for a short moment and then moved on. They wished they had seen the body, but with summer just starting, there was going to be more shootings and more killings.
The afternoon sun was beating down on them like it was hitched to them personally. Nichols wanted to hit up 125th Street and linger about, hoping to see something she liked and get a friend to steal it for her when the chance came. It was such a nice day, she didn’t want to see her home for hours. She planned on hanging out with Dina all day and probably even into the night.
Evening came fast for Nichols, though. She and Dina were in Hue-Man Bookstore on Eighth Avenue looking at books and magazines. They sipped on cold milkshakes and sat in the lounging area of the café inside the bookstore talking about the articles they were reading, admiring the cute guys entering and exiting the store.
“Ooh, he’s cute. I like that chocolate. He got that Tyrese thing goin’ on,” Nichols said with a smile.
Dina quickly agreed.
Nichols was having a great time with her friend at the Hue-Man Bookstore, where she was able to escape the harshness of her home and free her mind from any trouble. Not only did she not have to worry about her mother going upside her head, or her two sisters arguing over nonsense, but she had books to read and a place to chill.
Dina was getting tired, and she needed to head back home to help her mother with some cleaning. She stood up. “You coming? It’s getting late.”
Nichols looked at the time and realized it was almost eight. She sighed. “Nah, I’m going to chill. You go ahead. I’ll call you later.” She was reading an article about Trey Songz and admiring his physique with a pleased smile. She wanted to stay until the place closed.
“You sure, girl? That’s a long walk home by yourself.”
“Dina, I’m gonna be all right. Shit, I grew up out here. They know me.”
Dina was skeptical about leaving Nichols by herself, but she had promised her mother that she would be home before nine o’clock. She gathered up her things and left Nichols seated at the table, her face buried in the latest issue of Vibe magazine.