Bad Apple - the Baddest Chick(3)

CHAPTER 2




Apple strutted across the busy Harlem street and walked toward the bodega where Cross and his friends were hanging out. The sun was shining brightly like a jewel in the sky, and the warm weather made it feel more like summer than spring. Apple’s heart pumped rapidly as she came closer to Cross. Just being a few feet from him got her excited and nervous. She tried not to look directly at him while she walked his way, but she couldn’t help stealing a glance from the corner of her eyes.

They all were gambling, playing dice on the side of the bodega. Cross clutched a knot of money in his hand and was talking shit. He was hunched over, shaking the dice in his grip and swiftly letting them roll to the ground with the anticipation of winning the cash displayed in front of him—$500.

Soon, there was yelling and excitement. Having won the pot, Cross rose up and shouted, “Yeah, muthaf*ckas! Give me my f*ckin’ money. Ya’ll niggas don’t f*ckin’ know? I’m Vegas out this bitch, sendin’ ya’ll niggas home broke wit’ ya pockets turned inside out.”

Apple smiled, hearing him rant in excitement. The men were so into their dice game, and Cross was so busy collecting his winnings, they didn’t notice her pass and enter the store. Apple wished she could share in Cross’s winning moment.

However, she came back to her senses, went up to the bodega owner, and said, “Fernando, let me get a pack of Newports.”

“Twelve dollars.”

“Damn, Fernando! Why you keep raising the price and shit?” Apple complained.

“You and your mother stop smoking, then it be cheaper,” Fernando joked.

“Oh, so I see you got jokes, huh? Shit, I’ma stop, but f-uck it. It’s my mother’s money anyway.”

Fernando passed her the pack, but Apple wanted to get a few other things from the store while she had the chance. She knew she needed some tampons because her “friend” was almost coming, and she didn’t want to get caught out there. She hated sharing with her sister because Kola always wanted to bitch about everything. Apple sighed, debating whether she should get the pack of tampons from Rite Aid or something to eat, since she was starving. She knew there wasn’t anything to eat at the apartment, and she felt the urge for one of Fernando’s turkey and cheese hero with mustard, mayo, onions, and lettuce.

“Fuck it. Fernando, make me a turkey and cheese. You know how I like it,” Apple said.

Fernando smiled. “I got you.”

Apple felt her stomach growling, and she hated walking around on an empty stomach. If her friend came, she would beef with Kola or Nichols about borrowing one of their tampons, but right then, she was hungry.

She waited around the front entrance, reading the Daily News and trying to pass time. Two of Cross’s goons walked into the store, and they were loud. Apple glanced at them. They were cute, but none of them could hold her interest like Cross did.

“Damn, ma, what you gettin’ from here? I got you,” one of them offered.

Apple smiled. “I’m a’ight.”

“C’mon, ma, my treat. You lookin’ too sexy to come out ya pockets,” he continued. “Yo, Fernando, what she gettin’? I got her.” The man placed a fifty on the countertop.

Apple knew Edge was Cross’s right-hand man. He was hot-tempered and volatile, while Cross was calm and a calculated hustler. But they were close like brothers.

“Really, you ain’t gotta pay. I got my own,” Apple lied.

“Fo’ real, ma? A’ight, I hear that shit, but I’ma still be nice and treat you, and next time, you got me. A’ight.”

“Maybe.”

Edge locked eyes with her. Apple knew he was flirting, and she knew he probably wanted much more from her than a conversation and a smile. In fact, she knew he wanted to hit it. Every nigga wanted to f-uck sex her and her sisters, but Apple didn’t want her name to carry around the hood recklessly and have word get back to Cross that she was a ho. So, she rarely f*cked with dudes from around her way because she knew niggas talked more than bitches—especially when it came to pu-ssy.

“Yo, Edge, you riding out to Summer Jam wit’ us, right?” the second man asked. “Cross said he was goin’ to roll wit’ us.”

Apple’s ears perked up when she heard Cross would be at Summer Jam too. She started to listen more closely to their conversation. She heard the man tell Edge that they were leaving out in three trucks to show a presence, and that they knew a few dudes backstage and would have VIP access.

Apple wished she could ride with them. She wanted to profile and be up close with the celebrities. But she, Ayesha, and Mesha were taking public transportation to the New Jersey arena, and getting there from Harlem would take them a year and a day. Apple was excited about the concert, but she dreaded the bus and train ride there. Also, since their tickets were almost nosebleed seats, she knew that Drake, Trey Songz, and the others would look like ants because they would be seated the farthest away. She wanted to witness the sweat pour off of Trey Songz’s abs and see Drake up close at his finest.

After Edge paid for her sandwich, he tried to get her number. Apple was grateful, but turned him down gently.

“I’m seventeen,” she stated.

“And ya eighteen when?”

“In two months.”