​Chapter 12: Woke up Feenin

I woke up feenin’.

Not for food.

Not for water.

Not for a shower.

For that preety rock.

I scratched my chest, licked my lips, feelin’ that itch crawl up my skin like my body was screamin’ for it.

Next to me, Kiesha stretched, yawning, but I already knew she probably  felt the same way.

She sat up, rubbin’ her eyes.

"Shit," she mumbled. "I need a hit."

I nodded. "Fuck breakfast. We goin’ straight to the Mexican."

She ain’t argue.

We threw on our clothes and headed out.

​

We was halfway to the wing spot when my StarTAC started buzzing in my pocket.

I flipped it open. "Yo?"

"Wassup, boy?" Lia’s voice came through, soft, playful.

I smirked. She was already missin’ me.

"You tell me," I said, takin’ my time with my words. "You went to sleep on ya boy last night."

She laughed. "Nigga, I was so high. I swear you put somethin’ in that blunt."

I licked my lips.

"Shit, I always put a lil’ rock in my blunt. Boost the high. My bad, I thought you was into that wild shit like me. YOLO, baby. You only live once."

Silence on her end.

I could tell she was thinkin’.

"But," I added, "if you not feelin’ that, I’ll keep it strictly weed next time. There will be a next time, right?"

She hesitated.

Then, finally, she let out a soft, breathy laugh. "Idk, Joe. You lacin’ blunts and shit. Any other guy did that, I’d be pissed. But it’s cool—just let me know if you gonna do that next time."

I exhaled, smirkin’. I had her.

"I mean, it was a good high... and so was the dick."

She laughed, but I could tell she meant that shit.

Then, after a second, her tone got kinda serious.

"I gotta confess somethin’."

I already knew what was comin’.

"I got a boyfriend."

I chuckled, shakin’ my head.

"Girl, I don’t give a fuck," I said smooth. "You too fine for me to care. I just wanna see you again. Find a way to ditch that nigga so I can pull up."

She paused, hesitatin’ just enough to let me know she was weighin’ it.

Then, finally...

"Okay."

Hook. Line. Sinker.

I snapped the phone shut, slidin’ it back in my pocket.

Kiesha was watchin’ me the whole time, arms crossed, one brow raised.

"You playin’ a dangerous game, boy, but i got ya back and ya front" she muttered.

I slung my arm around her shoulder, grinnin’.

"You ain’t got no choice but to have my back. We practically family."

She sighed, shakin’ her head. "Nigga, you a menace."

I just laughed, leadin’ us toward the wing spot.

​

We spotted the Mexican sittin’ in his car, his usual spot, a bigger dude sittin’ next to him.

The big one ain’t look like he liked talkin’. Just sat there, stiff, brows low, hands restin’ on his knees like he was just waitin’ for an excuse to fuck somebody up.

I pulled out the money, held it up as we walked to the driver’s side.

Mexican snatched it, nodded.

"I need some more, man," I said, leanin’ on the car. "And a way to call you or somethin’. I don’t even know ya name."

Mexican cut me off quick, his smirk disappearin’.

"What you, fed or somethin’?" he snapped. "Quit askin’ all them questions, nigga. You got the money for some more or not?"

“Yeah, of course,” I said

Then, with a casual wave, he gestured to the other side of the car.

"Go around. My boy gone hand it to you."

I hesitated.

Something about it felt off.

But the itch? That need? It was louder than my gut.

I glanced at Kiesha.

She ain’t say nothin’. Just gave me a small nod.

I sighed. Fuck it.

I walked around the car.

​

While the big Mexican handed me the bag of rock, I could hear the driver talkin’ to Kiesha.

"Damn, mami, you got a number?"

I tensed up, but I ain’t turn around yet.

"Why?" Kiesha said, playful but cautious.

I already knew what was goin’ through her head.

She was doin’ the math.

Free rock.

Jug.

I gritted my teeth but stayed silent, waitin’ to see what she did.

There was a long pause.

Then I heard her mutter the numbers.

Fuck.

I turned back around, saw the satisfied look on the Mexican’s face.

Kiesha slid her phone back in her pocket like it wasn’t shit.

I ain’t say nothin’.

Just took the bag and walked off.

She followed.

We made it a couple blocks down before we both cracked.

"Nigga, fuck waitin’—let’s hit this shit now."

I nodded. "Bet."

We ducked into a dark-ass back alley, Kiesha already pullin’ out the pipe.

But soon as we stepped in, we froze.

Because right there in front of us—

An old white lady was on her knees, givin’ some dusty-ass dude head, his jeans dropped to his ankles, one hand tangled in her thin-ass blonde hair.

On the side, a junkie was slumped against the wall, eyes wide, body still, geeked the fuck up.

The scene was wild as fuck, the smell of piss, sex and old beer hangin’ in the air.

I looked at Kiesha.

She looked at me.

I think we both had the same thought.

What the fuck we on?