Get It How We Live:Girls In The Hood 2(7)By: Sunny Giovanni
“I can hear you.”
She looked up at him while stomping into her combat boots. “So?” she yelled. “Nigga, listen a little fucking harder, you ungrateful motherfucker! You see if any of these other bitches would’ve gone to the ends for your stupid ass!”
“Lower you motherfucking voice when you’re talking to me!”
“Fuck you, Ace! You lower your motherfucking pride!” After pulling a t-shirt over her head and throwing on a hoody she was out of the door with keys in her hand.
Ace sat there and rubbed his hands down his face. Leslie would come back but he was accustomed to her being a hard one. She wasn’t coming back to him without a fight.
Sam and Andrew were at a table at the Hide Out, puffing cigarettes and playing a game of Spades after they counted money for Leslie. For her to walk through the door without Ace was a shocker. Sam looked up at her when she entered into the dining room and asked, “Where’s my nigga?”
“Fuck your nigga,” she grumbled and kicked his chair as she walked past.
Andrew’s deep blue eyes were on her until she stopped in front of the stove and grabbed the beaker from the countertop. “Somebody’s mad,” he said. “You gonna cook something?”
“My anger will be channeled into something more productive,” she returned. “Ace is losing his fucking mind. He comes home and instead of it being a beautiful reunion it ends up as something else.”
When Andrew caught a glimpse of her grabbing the bottle of Peach Vodka, he knew that Ace had to have fucked in a horrible way. A few months ago Leslie had developed a new way to cook crack and it wasn’t using water as a base. She’d mix her cocaine and her baking soda with different flavors of Vodka or brown liquor to give it a different type of taste. To prove her theory, she pulled in five different smokers and had them try five different flavors. They loved it and wondered where a sudden rush had come from and how it was that they felt a bit tipsy. Word spread and she eventually cut the legs from underneath Marciano, as quiet as it’s kept. It wasn’t until she finished pouring the Vodka into the baking soda and cocaine that she slammed the bottle onto the counter. Something was off.
“Les,” he called her.
“How’s my daughter?”
“She’s fine, but Les?”
“I’m working.” She placed the beaker into the pot of water and Andrew had come over to the stove and turned the knob to ignite the fire underneath it.
“Since when do you forget how to cook crack?” he asked her skeptically.
Leslie groaned and rolled her eyes. “That damn nigga done fucked up my order! I said that one day he would distract me!”
“Look, I got this. You sit down and have a drink.” Andrew poured her a small glass of Vodka and handed it to her, then pulled out the chair that he had been sitting in, to have her plop down and slam the glass onto the tabletop. “What happened?”
Just before she had the chance to say something, the front door came open and all of them looked toward the archway of the kitchen entrance, wondering who could be stopping by. Only five people had the key to the house and three of them were in the kitchen. Ace turned the corner and he tossed his second set of keys onto the table with his eyes on Leslie all the while, with his jaw tightened.
“Fuck you lookin’ at, Ace?” Leslie asked him.
“You left and I asked you not to,” he said sternly.
“You didn’t ask me to do shit.”
“You were supposed to stay and listen.”
“And you were supposed to appreciate me!” she yelled, slamming her hand down on the table as she stood. “But you can’t even do that, can you? You’re so worried about me cookin’ shit and sellin’ shit but you don’t realize what I could’ve gone through had I not! My motherfuckin’ daughter is fed and clothed and her daddy didn’t need for shit! Our friends banded together to make sure nobody starved and to help me make this shit happen! So like I said, fuck you.”
Ace grabbed her shoulder and pushed her back down into her chair. “You did some dangerous shit,” he told her. “My daughter could’ve lost her mother.”