Keep It Trill

Ch.12: Puff Puff Pass

   Keep It Trill

Damien walked over to a booth and got us some chicken. Half hot, half honey mustard.

After that, we had been walking around the fair playing various games and he won me 'bout 10 stuffed animals.

Damien and I spent that whole night getting to know each other. For a minute I thought he wasn't feeling me, until he came up behind me at the water gun booth to help hit the target, knowing good and well that I had that shit on point.

I lived in the hood. Who the hell didn't know how to aim a gun? Even if it was a fake ass target.

It wasn't until I heard my phone buzz from a text that I bothered to notice what time it was.

I turned to Damien, his smile wide and inviting, and let go of the plastic water gun.

He stared into my eyes and already knew what I was about to say.

"Let me drive you home." He says.

"How you know I ain't got my own means of transportation?"

He shrugged, raising an eyebrow. "Do you?"

I was about to say I could handle myself, but I realized I wanted to be with another trill nigga as much as possible.

I don't need no drama. I don't need no stress. And I definitely don't need to walk home this late by myself. I had left my car at home since it wasn't really that far, but honestly... I just wanted to spend more time with Damien cute ass. If he turned out to be a mass murderer and I get in his car, oh well.

"Actually, no." I answered, collecting all doubt and shoving it up my conscious' ass.

***

Damien didn't fool me with his innocent act. I knew he got around. It ain't no way in hell to be that damn fine and not get, what he likes to call, hoes. Or what I like to call, THOTS.

Oddly I found myself not giving a fuck about his past. I ain't trynna get committed and cuffed. I just wanna chill.

He zoomed down the street after I told him where I live, but as we neared my house he kept going. Shit, he's a serial killer.

"You pasted my turn?" I said, more as a question.

"Oh, I gotta go see 'bout some."

He glanced over at me noticing my uneasiness and laughed.

"Don't worry mama, I'll get you home before your curfew."

---

We pulled up to a small brick house with cars parked all outside in the yard. He turned off the engine and looked at me. "You straight?" He asked. I nodded and got up out the car. When we got inside he grabbed my hand and lead me through the crowd. People was dry-humping in corners, getting high, and getting drunk. He pushed through a door, into the kitchen. A group of people sat smoking, passing it around.

"Damien." One dark boy with long dreads spoke, "I didn't think you was gone come."

Damien still held onto my hand, but did this weird handshake with the boy with his other free palm. "Man, I couldn't miss it." He grabbed a red cup from the counter and took a sip. A girl was looking at me, and I looked back at her with the same expression. "Oh yeah, this, JC. We hanging for the night."

The girl flipped her nappy weave over her shoulder. "Hanging or banging? Well damn, I didn't know it was plus one." She said.

I rolled my eyes, already sizing this hoe up. "You got a problem wit me? Cause I'll sure as hell solve it." I ask, mimicking her hair flip.

She raised an eyebrow, and sat up more on the counter, clenching her fists. "And if I did...?"

"Wait... You said, JC? JC Jordan?" A boy asked, interrupting me from slapping this bitch.

I broke eye contact with the girl and nodded at him. He looked over at Damien with this weird look in his eyes. "That's Karon girl, my nigga. "

Damien's grip on my hand tightened. "Karon? Man, don't bring that nigga up. Apparently she ain't his if she rolling wit me, DeWayne."

I smiled, still eyeing the other girl.

DeWayne scoffed. "Whatever man, don't tell me ain warn you.."

The blunt reached me and I took it. I used to stay getting high when I wasn't specified as 'Karons Girl'. What's so wrong about starting back?