[UNDER REVISION]
Invited to join a cult of powerful supervillains, Valentina García decides to join only as a means to entertain herself.
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Her growing boredom dissipates when she m...
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"Aye nigga, wake the hell up! We here!"
I swing my fist straight in front of me and it smacks somebody's face.
"Ow! Shit! The hell?!" one of my buddies shrieks, rubbing his swelling jaw. Shit, not again.
My other buddy slams on his breaks near a stop sign and turns around to vent. "Nigga what's wrong wit' you?! He was just trynna wake yo ass! You didn't have to bust the nigga in his mouth!"
"Y'all should know not to scare me outta my sleep by now," I say as I flick my dreads away from my eyes.
My buddy rolls his. "Well we finna hit a lick real quick. This the place I was tellin' y'all about. Nigga owes me fifty and never showed face, trynna avoid my ass, pretendin' that he don't owe me nun'. Nah, not today!"
I stare at the rundown apartment complex through my window and narrow my eyes in confusion. "Man, y'all niggas trynna hit this place? Whoever's livin' here is already livin' in the damn boonies. And y'all wanna rob him for fifty bucks? C'mon now. Give this negro a break."
My buddy becomes irate. "Ain't no way! I been trynna get this nigga for four months! Screw that! He had his chance! Don't be trynna pull nunna' that Christianity mumbo jumbo on me now, Mace!"
I laugh to myself. "Fine, but I'm not goin' in there. If y'all niggas wanna catch a case, go ahead and knock yourselves out. I'll be chillin' right here in the whip."
My other buddy with the bruised jaw speaks up. "Well if we did get caught, yo ass would get arrested too. Sittin' in the whip makes yo ass an accessory to our crime."
"I'll take my chances," I reply, texting my big sis on my BlackBerry.
Aye sis, pls come pick me up by the projects five mins from our crib. You know what place I'm talkin about. These niggas I'm with is crazy asf they trynna rob a hood nigga's house. They finna die
My buddies shrug their shoulders and exit the car. "Fine, but yo ass ain't gettin' nothin' we find in here."
I snicker. "Nigga, y'all ain't finna find shit but death. That nigga's probably sittin' in his crib wit' a stick just waitin' for a reason to shoot y'alls stupid ass."
My cellphone vibrates between my lap. Rayleen must have responded.
The hell? Nigga I'm at work. Fix yo own damn problems!
"Ugh!" I shout, watching my buddies walk to their doom. I decide to keep a close eye on them. As soon as something seems out of the ordinary, I'll swoop in and drag their butts out of there. I feel two more vibrations from my phone.
Why u with them anyways? U that lonely?
Just come home. We need 2 talk about our lil bro
"Fuck that," I whisper, shutting my phone off. I can't do this now. I need to distract myself. I need these idiots outside to get into trouble so I can save them. For once, I just want to save somebody—anybody. Doron isn't my biological brother. It's the craziest thing I've ever heard. I mean sure, I had always figured that he and I had different dads. The little guy's got curly hair and yellow skin for crying out loud. But I never expected him to be completely unrelated to me. I can't even look at him the same way. There's just no way.
Gunshots errupt from far away, startling me. I feel a numbed smile form on my face. "Whatever, I'll deal with that emotional shit later," I mumble, changing into my suit and mask. Rayleen thinks the costume is mediocre and immature, but I think it's the coolest thing in the world.
