Heart of Spades

Chapter One

So... hi. I'm not really a talker so this is a little hard to do.

Talk to y'all.

About my life, what I'm going through, what I'm scared of, my insecurities, I--. How does one open themselves that much? No, really. How? I've been trying for years and that shit don't work. Isn't talking about how you feel supposed to make you feel better? It barely has for me. Talking about it makes me more mad.

Or, maybe that's what I tell myself.

Anywho, I'll start out slow. I'll introduce myself and we'll go from there because I don't know y'all and y'all don't know me. We have to build some kind of trust so that I know y'all won't be running around telling everybody my business.

So... I'm Jala. Jala Miller. No, not Jayla. Jah-la. My mom was in her bag when she came up with that one, because Jala means "great." Period. That's all to it. I'm great. She knew to keep it cute and simple. But in all seriousness, I don't always feel great. Most of my life I never paid attention to the way I felt. I was always focused on what I had to do and that was it. It was not until I got to college, Howard University, that I finally got in-tune with my feelings and emotions. I have confidence, but not as much as a should. You know?

But, y'all will get to know me more, hopefully, as I keep telling my story.

At that moment, I was in my kitchen washing the dishes as my lil slut ass roommate was fucking herself into a coma in her room. That's my best-friend though. We have been friends since freshman year. We were both two mean looking bitches that met each other at an African American Student Organization and vibed; that vibe created a beautiful friendship that I would not trade for the world. I'm not going to lie though, she's ran through. I tell her to relax, but after the first couple of times I realized that I can't make a grown woman do what she does not want to do. She likes dick and there's no problem with that. It becomes a problem when dick starts making you do stupid shit. We'll get into that later, though.

Me? My sex life? Oh I be fucking. Don't get me wrong. I definitely be fucking. But, I can live without it. Sex to me is steak to a low income family. Life goes on whether I have it or not. But, niggas make me sick. I will never allow myself to get emotionally attached to one. I'm more focused on my own betterment. These men out here are not worth my time and energy. I have seen what they've done to my friends and family. There is no way I'm about to allow it to happen to me. No man is worth all of the stress.

I heard footsteps walking down the hallway and towards the front of the apartment, so I quickly angled myself so that my back faced their direction. That after sex walk out of the house is the most awkward encounter ever.

"A'ight, I'll see you later lil mama," a deep, rough voice loudly whispered, and then I heard a kiss and the door shut. I turned around quickly.

"Bitch you sounded like you needed me to call an ambulance," I said turning off the faucet and joining my friend, Ivy, in the living room's couch. Her wig was pulled way too far up her head, and that's how I know it was slipping. The reposition was extremely off. "Look at your wig." I started laughing softly.

"Girl. He was ramming my shit like a damn animal. I was about to pass out." Ivy pulled off her 12 inch blunt cut wig revealing the cornrows on her scalp. "Never again. See you later lil mama. Go to hell, nigga. My vagina hurts now!" She screamed at the top of her lungs. I quickly covered her mouth to stop her yelling because he could have still been outside listening. Some men do that weird shit. They want to hear that they killed the cat to boost their egos.

"Girl shut up!" I whispered through gritted teeth, trying not to laugh. I uncovered her mouth then got up to go get ready for the Black Business Organization of Scholars meeting at 6:00 pm. It was 4:45, but I had to get there early because I was the president; and all of the executive board members had to debrief an hour before every meeting.

"Damn, I forgot about the meeting today. I'm bout to throw on a scarf and call it a day," Ivy said rubbing in-between her cornrows with her fingers. Ivy was the Treasurer of the organization and usually acted like it, but she picked the wrong day to fuck the wrong nigga.

I rolled my eyes as I pulled up my knee high boot on my right leg. "We literally have like two meetings left, bro. You know you're supposed to look presentable so go fix and put that wig on your head and hurry up so we can go."

She sighed then got up and walked down the hallway to her room. Ivy doesn't like drama at all and I know she was dreading going to the meeting. There was a rumor going around that I was caught out with this man named Chris. His girlfriend heard wind of the chatter and allegedly wants to "beat my ass" at the BBOS meeting today. Look, I go out with whoever is cute enough and wants to pay for my food. If they don't say they have a girl or they lie about not having one, why am I the one at fault? These immature girls need to start holding their boyfriends accountable for their actions. And that's on what? That's on period.

I'm too old to be fighting anybody, that's what the pepper spray is for. Now, if a hand is laid on me before I can whip out the spray, that's when I'm going to be forced to bring the claws out. Then after I beat that ass I'll give her reason to be mad. If it's the Chris that I went out on a date with last week, then her nigga is definitely fine enough to fuck. And that's exactly what's going to happen.

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Yes, I'm back! It's been so long y'all but I'm so happy to be back!

Let me know what you guys think!

Chapter Two will be longer, but how do you guys feel about the characters so far?

I'm so excited for this book!!

Like and Comment please. I need all the feedback and encouragement I can get!