Me and My Rider:A Dirty Game of Love(7)By: Renee
“What?!” Deana smirked “Ole Camren done finally got some dick in her life. Kudos to her.”
Trisha shot daggers Deana’s way, “Don’t play with me bitch. You know my sister ain’t even like that.”
“Oh, she not like big sister,” Deana joked, obliviously. When she saw Trisha wasn’t laughing, she tried to switch up the conversation. “So, you finally taking care of your graduation payments only a month before we walk across the stage.”
“Yea. I had some other things to handle first,” Trisha lied, not wanting to let Deana know that she had to use her money to help her mom with the bills last month.
“Bitch, I understand. Shit is tight for everyone,”
“Young lady, watch your mouth,” Mrs. Cox instructed, as she walked past the ladies.
Deana rolled her eyes and continued her conversation, “Well, bitch I’m about to jet out,” she spoke, “I got a hot date with Mr. C,” Deana turned towards the exit door, “Text you when I make it.”
Trisha purchased her graduation package and walked out of the school feeling accomplished. After such a long day, she could hear her bed and pillows calling her name. She sped home and placed her phone on do not disturb, preparing herself for a well-needed nap. What was supposed to be a two-hour nap turned into a seven-hour deep sleep. When Trisha finally woke up, she thought it was the next morning. She grabbed her phone and saw the messages and mixed calls. Five were from Mr. D, and the rest were from her other boy toys. She scrolled to her messages and saw Deana's name pop up. It read:
Deana: Made it: 2846 Lockwood Dr. Suite 600. Call you later.
Trisha looked at the message twice to be sure she was reading it correctly. She had met Mr. C several times, and she knew his money was real long. Whenever he scooped Deana up, he made sure she had nothing but the best, so Trisha couldn't figure out why they were meeting in the hood tonight, but her thoughts were soon interrupted by the sound of her stomach growling. She made her way into the kitchen and warmed her up some pizza pockets. As she was walking out the kitchen, her mother was walking into the front door with her bible in tow.
"How was bible study momma?" Trisha asked
"You would know if you were there," her mother preached, as she placed her bags on the dining room table.
"I know. I'll go with you next week," Trisha lied to dead this conversation. Her mother had become engulfed in the church after her father's death. Trisha figured that that was her way of coping with his death since she never witnessed her grieve, but her church flow was too extensive for Trisha. As a younger girl, they were in church almost every day:
Sunday: Sunday school/church service
Tuesday: Choir Rehearsal
Wednesday: Bible Study
Friday: deliverance service
It was never ending, and they never got out on time. Trisha could feel her head starting to hurt just thinking about it.
“Don’t be making promises to me; make them to God. Maybe then you can keep it,” her mom preached. Trisha attempted to walk past her mom trying to get to her room to finish her meal. Before she could make it to her door, her mother continued, “You sure are eating and sleeping a lot lately…is there something you want to tell me?”
Trisha stopped in her tracks and rolled her eyes before turning around to her mother and stating firmly, “I’m positive there is nothing inside of here but food,” she rubbed her stomach and walked into her room shutting the door behind her. She had heard enough of her mom’s snide comments, and the only thing she was anxious to do was devour these pizza pockets. As she threw the first bite into her mouth, she felt her phone vibrate. Frustrated from her eating being interrupted, she snatched up her phone ready to give the other person on the line total attitude, but when she saw Deana’s name pop up, she rolled her eyes and answered, “You Good?”
“Girl, I’m on my way home. Just checking in,” Deanna explained
“What the hell was y’all doing in the hood,” Trisha asked in between bites.
“He had to take care of some business, so I met him over there.”
“Deana, I told your ass don’t be mixing his business with your pleasure,” Trisha shouted, “You don’t need that shit in your life.” Trisha knew Mr. C made his money from being in the streets, and the last thing she wanted was her girl getting mixed up in any bullshit behind any nigga. The money was good, and the sex was a1, but her freedom and safety trumped all that.