#Chapter1
“ I’m classy, sexy, street smart, and I’m definitely not to be fucked with.” - Camille
**
“Facebook is the devil!”
I tell myself over and over again to log off but I never comply. I keep torturing myself with looking at photos of my friends. They seem so damned happy, disgustingly so. I mean seriously, I get that you’re in a relationship but why do you have the need to plaster pictures of you and your boyfriend kissing all over the internet? A part of me knows that I’m being a jealous bitch but I really don’t care. I’m so damned annoyed with my life right now.
Deciding to stop feeling sorry for myself I head to the bathroom to begin primping for my night out with my friends. My apartment feels so empty without Marcus here to share it with me. I know that I should be happy that he’s gone but we’ve been together on and off since I was 12. Now that I’m 24, I just feel so damned lost. I didn’t finish school, I have a crappy job, and a bunch of loser ex-boyfriends along with it. I guess I’m just lucky that I didn’t turn out like my sister, because I would have 3 kids joining me in my personal misery.
Marcus wasn’t much of a man but he has always been comfortable. Even though we dated other people from time to time, I always knew that I could count on him. So imagine my surprise when he said that he was done with me for good. He got that skank Charity pregnant and now they want to play house with each other. It still hurts that he could do that to me especially as we were supposed to have been together during that time which means he cheated. I always thought that he was better than that, now I know different.
I still can’t believe that he did that to me, after all that I’ve done for him.
Marcus is no angel, not by a long shot and I’m not either. We both grew up on the west side of Chicago and it was no picnic. He was a foster child and I always kind of wished that I was one. It’s a terrible thing to say but my mom sucks, and I feel like I may have been better off not knowing her at all. That way I could make up stories about how great she was in my head and how she was a young mother that couldn’t take care of me. I spent the majority of my childhood taking care of that woman and now I just refuse to do it anymore. I stopped calling her mom when I was 9, she is simply Lauren to me.
Because I have a mother that’s incapable of thinking of anyone but herself, I resorted to holding drugs for Marcus and in return he would share his funds. I’ve gotten him connections that he could only dream of, I’ve charmed some of the biggest drug pushers in Chicago, and it was all for him. Everyone who is anyone in the drug game knows who “Camille” is. I’m classy, sexy, street smart, and I’m definitely not to be fucked with.
You wouldn’t see any evidence of that if you looked at me today, because at this moment, I look an absolute hot mess. My weave is completely out of order and that’s only because I haven’t combed it in days. It’s a shame that I’ve spend so much money to look fabulous, only to sit around and feel sorry for myself. Luckily I’ve purchased great hair and so it won’t take long to get the snags out of my 18” inch tresses.
An hour later the buzzer to my apartment rings and I know that it’s Sandy and Cynthia. I buzz them in and they storm inside of my apartment.
“ Girl! You aren’t ready yet? You were supposed to start hours ago,” Sandy said dramatically.
I smacked my lips “Whatever, I told you that I would meet you there. You decided that you wanted to come pick me up and –”
“Well that’s because you were going to flake on us, just like you have for the last 2 months.” Cynthia interjected.
I give both of them the stink eye and walk back to the bathroom to finish my makeup. Sandy and Cynthia help themselves to the contents in my refrigerator. I sigh as I look into the
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