shelter system. What me and her had back then was good. I ain’t gonna say it’s messed up we not together no more ’cause things happen for a reason. I just ain’t think it was gonna end.
I take out my cell and text Adonna. All I say is: hi.
She text me back a minute later: getting in the shower. dont peek!!!
That girl is trying to kill me, I swear. I don’t need to be thinking ’bout her all naked and soaped up right now.
While I’m waiting, my pops and his friends come back, get more stuff, and leave again. Only thing left now is the living room furniture and four boxes of pots and pans and dishes and shit.
It take a long time for Adonna to text me back: did u keep ur eyes closed or were u a bad boy?
i seen everything. i need a spanking.
omg!!!
Even when she text, I can see her pretty face smiling and laughing.
Me and her text back and forth ’til she say: gotta go 2 school. last week!!!!!!!
I text her back telling her I’ma call her later, then my pops come through the door by hisself this time. Me and him carry the rest of the stuff outta there. Only thing we leave is the DJ equipment ’cause them speakers is too bigfor the apartment and ’cause my pops got a regular system to listen to his music at home.
Me and my pops drive to the new apartment, which is on the other side of the Bronx from where Bronxwood is at. Jasmine don’t live all that far from here. I mean, she ain’t ’round the corner or nothing, but I could walk to her place from here if I felt like it. I need to talk to her anyway, find out how she doing, if she got to talk to Reyna and if everything alright. It don’t matter that I’m trying to get with Adonna. I’ma always gonna look out for Jasmine.
I gotta admit, this part of the Bronx is kinda okay. I mean, for the Bronx. The place where the new apartment at got, like, four buildings that all look the same, with grass and shit. Regg don’t live too far from here neither. He over in Riverdale. This place ain’t as cool as Regg place, but it’s way better than where we was living before. When we get Troy back, he ain’t gonna believe this is where he gonna be living now.
The apartment is on the eleventh floor and, even though it’s a mess right now with boxes and furniture and stuff all over the place, I can tell it’s gonna look nice when it’s hooked up. My family ain’t never lived like this before. It got a big kitchen and living room, two bathrooms, and three bedrooms. Me, I don’t know why they need all them rooms if I ain’t gonna be living here. I don’t even know what I’m doing here now, helping them move in this place.
But I am here, and so is my stuff from the storage room. My moms is in the kitchen, leaning up against the counter, looking bored.
“Lisa,” my pops say to her. “Put away the kitchen stuff.”
“I don’t have no way to open them boxes.”
He grab a box cutter from the kitchen table, like a foot away from where she standing, and open up two boxes for her. “Go on. Start.”
For the next couple hours I don’t think ’bout the fact that I ain’t gonna be living here. In my mind, only thing I’m thinking is that I want this apartment to look good for Troy. Just in case. So I just work hard, carrying furniture and putting it in right rooms, hooking up TVs to the cable boxes, and fixing bed frames and dresser drawers and everything else that need fixing.
Only furniture I don’t fix or set up is my shit, which we put in a room right next to Troy room. It’s bigger than my room at Cal apartment, and even bigger than my old room at our place on Pelham Parkway, the apartment we got threw outta. Every time my pops come outta jail, it seem like he always try and do better, try and get a bigger apartment and more stuff to put in it. Only thing, it never last. Then it just be harder for us to hold on to all that shit, keep paying for all of it, when he go and get hisself locked up again.
And that’s another reason why I ain’t even
I take out my cell and text Adonna. All I say is: hi.
She text me back a minute later: getting in the shower. dont peek!!!
That girl is trying to kill me, I swear. I don’t need to be thinking ’bout her all naked and soaped up right now.
While I’m waiting, my pops and his friends come back, get more stuff, and leave again. Only thing left now is the living room furniture and four boxes of pots and pans and dishes and shit.
It take a long time for Adonna to text me back: did u keep ur eyes closed or were u a bad boy?
i seen everything. i need a spanking.
omg!!!
Even when she text, I can see her pretty face smiling and laughing.
Me and her text back and forth ’til she say: gotta go 2 school. last week!!!!!!!
I text her back telling her I’ma call her later, then my pops come through the door by hisself this time. Me and him carry the rest of the stuff outta there. Only thing we leave is the DJ equipment ’cause them speakers is too bigfor the apartment and ’cause my pops got a regular system to listen to his music at home.
Me and my pops drive to the new apartment, which is on the other side of the Bronx from where Bronxwood is at. Jasmine don’t live all that far from here. I mean, she ain’t ’round the corner or nothing, but I could walk to her place from here if I felt like it. I need to talk to her anyway, find out how she doing, if she got to talk to Reyna and if everything alright. It don’t matter that I’m trying to get with Adonna. I’ma always gonna look out for Jasmine.
I gotta admit, this part of the Bronx is kinda okay. I mean, for the Bronx. The place where the new apartment at got, like, four buildings that all look the same, with grass and shit. Regg don’t live too far from here neither. He over in Riverdale. This place ain’t as cool as Regg place, but it’s way better than where we was living before. When we get Troy back, he ain’t gonna believe this is where he gonna be living now.
The apartment is on the eleventh floor and, even though it’s a mess right now with boxes and furniture and stuff all over the place, I can tell it’s gonna look nice when it’s hooked up. My family ain’t never lived like this before. It got a big kitchen and living room, two bathrooms, and three bedrooms. Me, I don’t know why they need all them rooms if I ain’t gonna be living here. I don’t even know what I’m doing here now, helping them move in this place.
But I am here, and so is my stuff from the storage room. My moms is in the kitchen, leaning up against the counter, looking bored.
“Lisa,” my pops say to her. “Put away the kitchen stuff.”
“I don’t have no way to open them boxes.”
He grab a box cutter from the kitchen table, like a foot away from where she standing, and open up two boxes for her. “Go on. Start.”
For the next couple hours I don’t think ’bout the fact that I ain’t gonna be living here. In my mind, only thing I’m thinking is that I want this apartment to look good for Troy. Just in case. So I just work hard, carrying furniture and putting it in right rooms, hooking up TVs to the cable boxes, and fixing bed frames and dresser drawers and everything else that need fixing.
Only furniture I don’t fix or set up is my shit, which we put in a room right next to Troy room. It’s bigger than my room at Cal apartment, and even bigger than my old room at our place on Pelham Parkway, the apartment we got threw outta. Every time my pops come outta jail, it seem like he always try and do better, try and get a bigger apartment and more stuff to put in it. Only thing, it never last. Then it just be harder for us to hold on to all that shit, keep paying for all of it, when he go and get hisself locked up again.
And that’s another reason why I ain’t even
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