Читать книгу Ghetto Girls - Anthony Whyte - Страница 7

ONE

NO DRUGS OR ALCOHOL ALLOWED read the sign outside the club.

“A yo! You girls can’t stand here. You’re gonna have to move it on. Be ghost!” the doorman yelled, pointing down the block.

“I hate this shit,” Coco sighed. “But you know what? One of these days I’m gonna own this fucking club, and then I’ll probably be doing the same shit, anyway.”

Coco, her friends, Danielle and Josephine, the crew, she called them, started to walk. They had just been tossed out of a jam for teens, thrown by Disco Dave at club Deep. The girls were caught lighting up a blunt. Now they stood around outside, at 23rd and fifth enviously checking out all the happenings. They watch all the party people stepping into the club, some they knew and some they didn’t. It really didn’t matter, they were outside scheming on getting back inside the club when headlights hit them.

“Check out that fat Benz, yo!” Coco shouted. They all made tracks for the corner to see the sleek black whip.

“Damn! Now that shit is P-H-A-T. I could see jacking a nigga for sump’n like that.” Coco’s friend Danielle placed her hand under her shirt like she was gonna pull out a gun.

“Look out you may have to.” Josephine said. She was sixteen and attractive.

“If this bitch comes out her face, I’m a have to smack her down.” Danielle argued.

“You’re so Ghetto, why you always gotta be thinking mean and shit?” Josephine asked.

“Them security chumps just kicked my ass out the club, I could’ve met some cutie tonight. You think I should be on a welcome wagon for people and all that, bitch?” Danielle retorted. Before Josephine could answer, the girl had walked into their bickering.

“Can I get a light?”

The driver was a tall, beautiful, dark-skinned sister wearing a sexy red DKNY outfit. She popped from out of nowhere scaring the girls. Coco tried to size the girl up as she stepped closer to her. She didn’t look like she was a hood-rat.

Is this bitch packing, or can she be jacked? Coco wondered. The girl appeared to be sixteen or seventeen, taller than Coco, but much thinner. If it came down to a fight, Coco was sure she could kick her ass.

“Yo, are you gonna give me a light, or what?”

The girl stood about three feet from Coco, one hand on her hip and the other one holding out a cigarette. Coco gazed at her, smirked and decided she was trying to act Ghetto. Ignoring the attitude, Coco kept admiring the car.

“How much does a whip like that cost?” Coco demanded. “Don’t ask me,” she replied, “it’s my uncle’s, and he’s outta town, so I’m driving it this weekend.” “Stop playing, yo?” Coco replied.

She removed the cigarette dangling from her lips and handed it to the newcomer. The girl used it to light hers.

“Yeah, but it ain’t all that,” the girl replied as she returned Coco’s cigarette. “Have y’all been inside the club yet?”

“Yeah, it’s ahight. But we …” The conversation ended abruptly as a volley of shots erupted. The blast of the bullets rang out and all the girls hit the dirt, except for the newcomer. She was frozen to her spot. Coco yanked her down.

“If you wanna keep driving this weekend, you better get your black ass down here with the rest of us,” Coco said.

All of the girls scrambled on their stomachs back to the Mercedes 600. Another volley went off as they raced to get inside the car, slamming the door shut.

“Shit! Is the whip bulletproof?” Coco asked.

“You mean this car? Nah I don’t think so,” the newcomer replied.

“I think we should be out,” Danielle yelled.

“Yeah, we should definitely be leaving this spot,” Coco agreed.

The driver put the car in gear and slammed on the accelerator, barely avoiding another car. She swerved wildly to the middle of the street.

“Damn, this thing can really fly,” Coco exclaimed from her place riding shotgun. “Oh, um, I’m Coco, and that’s Da Crew, Josephine and Danielle”

“I know who y’all is! I mean, I’ve seen y’all in L.’s last video.”

“Yeah, we were in that joint, but we’re coming out with our own style now.”

“I’m Deedee.”

“What’s up, Deedee? You cool with me. Good looking out on the ride. What kind of biz is your uncle into?”

“Music biz,” Deedee smiled. “He’s a music producer.”

“That’s ahight,” Coco smirked, pointing at McDonalds. “Yo, make a left and go through the drive-thru, Deedee. I want me some fries.”

“Yeah, I could go for some fries too,” Danielle added. “But what I really want is a chocolate shake.”

“I’m with that.” Deedee turned into McDonalds. “Y’all wanna chill here or go to the drive-thru?”

“Drive-thru, no doubt we could be chilling listening to music and all that.” Coco ordered as she checked out the restaurant.

“Ain’t no niggas worth sump’n sitting up in there.” Danielle said as Deedee pulled up to the drive-thru window.

“Only scrubs be’s hanging out in Mickey D’s on a Friday night.” Josephine agreed.

“Welcome to McDonalds. May I take your order, please?”

“Yeah, let me get four orders of large fries and,” Deedee looked back. “And what, four chocolate shakes?”

“Three chocolate shakes and one vanilla,” Danielle answered.

Deedee reached for her wallet. “I got this, y’all,” she said. She found a twenty-dollar bill and stuck it under the cup.

“Do you have twenty cents so I can give you back a ten?” Deedee asked the cashier.

“Nah, take it out the twenty,” Deedee yelled, trying to be hard.

“En garde! I’ll let you try my Wu-Tang style.

Bring the ruckus, bring the muthafucking ruckus!

The hook from the Wu-Tang Clan knocked, and the whole posse moved in time as the car shuddered from the heavy bass.

“It’s not the Russian it’s the Wu-Tang crushing roulette.

Slip up, you’ll get crushed like Suzette....”

It was smiles all around. The fries and shakes hit the spot.

“Wu-Tang has mad, mad flavas, yo,” Coco said as she demanded agreement. Da crew nodded, but Deedee didn’t agree.

“Yeah, too many,” Deedee said. Then her eyes met Coco’s stare of indifference. Her voice trailed off for a second, but Deedee didn’t blink. She continued, “There’s too many emcees, and they all wanna let off their rhymes at once.”

“Shame on a nigga who try to run game on a nigga

whose buck-wild wid da trigga....”

The lyrics of the Wu vibrated from the car’s speakers, and Da Crew nodded their heads to the music. Coco stared at Deedee’s manicured nails resting on the wheel. Besides an occasional glance in the rearview mirror, Deedee kept her eyes on the road. Flashing lights went by as the sound of the police proceeded in opposite direction.

“D’ya know much about da business?” Coco asked with that same stare. For a moment, Deedee thought of elaborating, but decided to wait.

Coco continued to stare. She checked out Deedee’s features against her dark skin, and decided that Deedee was not an ugly duckling. The Mercedes came to a halt at a red light.

“Ain’t a damn thing change

Just protect ya neck...”

As the car speakers blared, blasting the hype lyrics of Protect Ya Neck. Deedee lit another cigarette and checked the time. She felt some kind of weird alliance forming with this shotgun.

“What time is it?” Coco asked.

Deedee smiled. “One forty. It’s still early. Anything y’all would like to do?”

“Yeah,” replied Coco. “Let’s rock‘n’ roll uptown, yo.” The rest of the girls glanced at her. “We’re always downtown. I’m saying lets give uptown Harlem a try.”

“Ahight, Ahight, we with all that,” Danielle and Josephine shouted in agreement.

Deedee smiled and lifted her foot off the brake and slowly pressed on the gas. The sleek car began to move toward the downtown lane, the anthem from the Wu-Tang Clan in tow. Deedee smiled, enjoying the sense of camaraderie. Coco stared straight ahead nodding her head. She was visibly impressed.