A Girl Like Me by Ni-Ni Simone Page A

the menu. “Look, I know we’re in New York and all, but check it. True story, with all this money, we could’ve gone to Crown Chicken on Bergen Street, ordered two kill breasts, a roll, and still had money for the movies. Feel me?”
    Was God trying to be funny? Because if he was, I wasn’t laughing. This was exactly why I never liked going anywhere with Jahaad—he was the cheapest bastard I knew.
    â€œI gave all my money away to ya mama yesterday,” he carried on.
    â€œThat was almost a month ago.” I rolled my eyes.
    â€œHmph, whatever. It feels like yesterday.”
    At that moment, all I could see was me backhanding him across his face.
    â€œI tell you what, though. Since you’re suddenly so expensive and everything.”
    â€œExpensive?! This was your idea!”
    â€œWell then, since you so receptive to my ideas, understand this: when that waiter comes back, we orderin’ one soda”—he held the respective fingers up—“and two straws.”
    â€œWhy did we even come here, Jahaad? What was the point?”
    â€œTo make you feel better about your mother tryna rob you.”
    My eyes fell from his face. I hated that memory. “This has nothing to do with my mother. This has to do with that heifer’s drawers in your car.”
    â€œI already told you—”
    â€œA damn lie is what you told me!”
    â€œExcuse me,” the waiter said, getting our attention. “Are you ready to order? Would you like to start with something to drink?”
    â€œYeah,” Jahaad said. “We’ll have a Sprite and two straws.”
    I couldn’t believe he really ordered that.
    â€œI’ll have a glass of water with lemon.”
    â€œLemon?” Jahaad mumbled and looked at me. “That better not be extra.” He turned to the waiter. “Bruhman, is that extra?”
    â€œExcuse me?”
    â€œIs there a charge for the lemon?”
    â€œNo, sir,” the waiter said, looking as if he wanted to laugh.
    Once the waiter left the table, I whispered to Jahaad, “You’re embarrassing me. If you couldn’t afford to bring me here, then you shouldn’t have.”
    â€œIf I didn’t have to give your mother a hundred dollars, then maybe we could’ve been rollin’. I’m not your rich rappin’ jump-off.”
    â€œI don’t have a rich rappin’ jump-off! As a matter of fact, do you want your hundred dollars back?” I was sick of him throwing that in my face! I went in my purse and pulled the money out.
    â€œPut that back,” he insisted. “You gon’ need to pay rent next month, but since I see you’re all of a sudden ballin’, what you can do is pay half of this bill.”
    I rolled my eyes. “I ain’t paying half of nothing.”
    â€œOh, really? So you got it like that? What, your new boyfriend pays for everything?”
    â€œWhat are you talking about?! You got a lot of nerve when Ciera’s name bracelet and a mysterious pair of dirty behind drawls are in your backseat. And you have the audacity to accuse me of having a rich boyfriend, which by the way, I don’t have. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be with yo’ cheap ass.”
    â€œCheap?” he snapped. “I am not cheap.”
    â€œHere you are.” The waiter sat the drinks on the table.
    â€œHow much is this?” Jahaad asked the waiter.
    â€œUhmmm, excuse me?”
    â€œThe soda,” Jahaad pointed. “How much is the soda, my man.”
    â€œOh,” the waiter blinked. “Three dollars.”
    â€œAll that ice and you charging three dollars?” Jahaad sucked his teeth, went in his wallet, pulled out three dollars, and looked at me. “We got fifteen left—order something from the kids’ menu. Remember we have to put some gas in the car to get home.”
    â€œI’m going to give you two a few minutes,” the waiter said.