Authors: Rae
S
imone lay on the sofa balled up in a knot with her head hanging over the trashcan that she'd spent the night vomiting in. She hadn't moved from the sofa since she'd arrived home. Stefan stood in the kitchen cooking breakfast, unfazed by the incident. After a hot shower and a good night's sleep, he'd decided to put the incident behind him and do what he did best; move on with his life.
That wasn't the case with Simone. Killing two people and leaving them in the house to decompose wasn't something she could put behind her that easily. She couldn't stop looking at the dried-up blood on her chest. She was worried that guilt wouldn't be the only repercussion from the incident.
What if someone saw us?
Simone wondered. She imagined that some nosy old lady had heard the gunfire and stayed glued to the window, waiting to see someone flee the scene.
The phone rang. Simone sat up and looked at the caller ID on the phone.
“Who is that?” Stefan asked.
“It's the job.”
Stefan sucked his teeth. “Don't answer that shit; the hell with them.”
Simone lifted the phone off of the receiver and slammed it back down. She wasn't about to complain.
Keep thinking like that and maybe one day you'll redeem yourself for that bullshit last night
, Simone thought. She turned on the TV and flipped through the channels until she came across the local news.
Stefan walked out the kitchen and handed Simone a plate full of pancakes and sausage. “What you watching?”
“The news.”
“For what?”
Simone rolled her eyes. “'Cause.”
“'Cause what?”
“I like knowing what's going on.”
“Since when?” Stefan asked with a mouthful of food.
“Damn, Stefan, I'm gonna need you not to talk with your mouth full,” Simone said. “That shit makes me sick to my stomach.”
“And I'm gonna need you to grow the fuck up.” Stefan grabbed the remote and flipped through the TV channels.
“I was watching that.”
“Well, you shouldn't be.”
Simone squinted. “Why is that?”
“'Cause if something as simple as me talking with my mouth full upsets your stomach, I can't imagine what watching the news will do to you.”
“Whatever; I just don't get off on other people's misfortune.”
“You could've fooled me,” Stefan said. “'Cause you damn sure don't mind taking part in it.”
“That's bullshit!” Simone shouted. “I do what I have to do, usually 'cause I find myself caught up in some shit with you.”
“Is that right?” Stefan asked wryly.
“Yeah, like last night.”
“I'm not trying to hear that shit,” Stefan said. “I ain't start that shit, them niggas did, and you just happened to be there.”
Simone sighed. “Whatever you say.”
Stefan frowned. “Oh, it's whatever I say, huh?”
Simone rolled her eyes and directed her attention back to the television.
Stefan sniggered. “Maybe I've got you wrong. Maybe you were willing to roll around in the bed together for those fools. But let me tell you something, I might be down with a lot of shit, but I do have boundaries. That shit right there wasn't hopping off.”
“You know damn well that's not what I meant,” Simone said. “We could've counted our losses and left.”
“If you thought I was leaving without my money, you're a lot dumber than I thought.”
Simone jumped to her feet and slapped his plate of food on the floor. “Fuck you.”
Stefan smirked. “Aw, are we gonna throw a tantrum?”
“Don't sit here and act like I was down with that shit!” Simone shouted. “I didn't want to go in the first place!”
“Then why did you?”
“'Cause you kept saying nothing was wrong with the muthafucka; I was being paranoid and shit,” Simone said.
“Grandma always used to say, you can't depend on other people's judgment,” Stefan said. “Maybe if you would've listened to her instead of sitting in front of the TV plucking the dirt from under your fingernails all the time, you wouldn't be in this predicament.”
“Naw, I'm in this predicament because you put me in it,” Simone said. “This shit was your idea from jumpstreet. I wanted to go to college, stay on campus, and make some friends, to have my own clothing line. Not be some high-class hooker.”
Stefan leaned back on the sofa smugly and looked Simone up and down. “First of all, you're a low-class hoe so don't go and get it twisted. And college?” Stefan chuckled. “How the hell you get
from eleventh grade all the way to college? You don't even have a GED.”
“It doesn't matter; I can get it.”
“Yeah, and I would love to be a fly on the wall when you march into VCU and hand them your GED,” Stefan said. “They'll laugh your dumb ass out the door.”
“That shit doesn't matter now,” Simone said on the verge of tears. “All that does is you ruin my life.”
“Wrong, just 'cause I had an idea, didn't mean you had to go along with it,” Stefan said. “You ruined your own life.”
“Well, I'm through ruining it,” Simone said. “I'm getting the fuck out of here, away from you.”
Stefan giggled. “How? Who's going to take you in? You're too big of a baby to stay by yourself.”
“Please, I've got plenty of places to go.”
“Ha, I hope you don't think that nigga you're so fixated with is going to let you move in with him,” Stefan said. “You probably ain't even been to his house.”
“He'd let me move in with him, if I asked him to.”
“Bitch, please, that nigga probably got at least forty more of you who can do what you do just as good or better,” Stefan said. “I'd be surprised if that nigga would let you camp out in his garage.”
“You don't know shit about him, so keep his name out your mouth.”
“And if I don't, what you gonna do?” Stefan teased. “Close it for me?”
“I wouldn't waste my time putting my hands on no shit like you.”
Stefan laughed. “That must mean you ain't ready to take the ass-whipping that's gonna follow.”
“I ain't thinking about your ass,” Simone said. “You're mad 'cause you're only allowed over Eugene's house once a week.”
“That's the hater in you talking.”
“If that's what you want to believe,” Simone said. “The truth hurts, doesn't it?”
“I don't know about all that,” Stefan said. “What I do know is if I needed a place to stay, Eugene would put me up. I wouldn't be standing on his porch with my bags in my hand, looking like a damn fool and praying it's the right address 'cause I looked it up on the Internet.”
“You don't know shit and I'm not staying with him,” Simone said. “I'm going to stay with my daddy, so you can shut the fuck up.”
“Yo' daddy? I forgot you even had a daddy,” Stefan said. “How are you going to find him? Are you going to run a people search on him, too?”
“Unlike you, I know where my daddy lives,” Simone said.
Stefan clapped his hands. “Well, I'll be damned. Wonders never cease.”
“Too bad you can't say the same about your dad.”
“Please, your dad doesn't want anything to do with your ass,” Stefan said. “If he ain't been around in this long, what the fuck makes you think he wants to be bothered with your ass now?”
“At least my daddy did send me money and stuff for my birthday,” Simone said gloatingly. “What did yours send you? Hold on, I can answer that one myself; nothing. Guess he hasn't gotten over you peering at him through the peephole, huh?”
Stefan jumped up and shoved Simone's head with his index finger. “Keep listening to that doped-out bitch you call Mama. She wasn't here for me to whip her ass when she said that shit but you are. You must've forgotten about that ass-whipping I gave her up in here. I guess you're ready for yours.”
Simone grabbed the ashtray off of the table and swung it at Stefan's head. Stefan blocked the ashtray with his forearm, then
fastened his hands around Simone's neck and choked her. Simone slid on the plate she'd slapped on the floor and fell backward onto the sofa. Stefan stood over Simone gritting his teeth, tightening his grip on her neck. Simone gathered up all of the saliva she could and spat into Stefan's face. Stefan removed his hands from Simone's neck and wiped the spit off of his face. Simone kicked Stefan in his stomach. Stefan stumbled backward and Simone sat on the sofa, trying to catch her breath.
“Oh, we like to spit,” Stefan said. “Well, I can do better than that.”
Stefan grabbed the trashcan Simone had been vomiting in all night and threw its contents on her.
“Arrrgh!” Simone screamed, hopping to her feet and charging Stefan.
Stefan grabbed Simone's arms and pinned her against the wall. “Calm down, Simone; don't make me hurt you.”
Simone kicked and screamed obscenities at Stefan until she became exhausted and slid down to the floor. She didn't bother to try and get up. She sat there and cried.
Stefan reached under the sofa and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He lit a cigarette and plopped down on the sofa. “Simone, what happened last night was fucked up but I didn't want that shit to go down like that; Chris did. I'm not gonna spend my life walking around feeling like a jerk because of it and neither should you.”
Simone looked up at Stefan and wiped her eyes. “But...”
“But what?” Stefan asked. “Grow up and let it go. You can start by taking a shower.”
Simone looked down at the blood, vomit, and sweat that covered her body. She must've been out of her mind. Any sane person would've been anxious to take a shower. She got up from the floor and headed upstairs.
“I wonder what Paris has been up to,” Stefan said.
“When's the last time you heard from him?”
“That day we went with him over to Michael's house,” Stefan answered. “You trying to go over there and see him?”
“Sure, why not.”
Stefan puffed on his cigarette. “Good, 'cause being in this house is driving our asses crazy.”
S
imone sighed as they pulled up at Paris's house. It had begun to rain. She didn't have an umbrella and didn't want the rain to mess up her hair. She wished that she were somewhere cuddled up with Wayne instead of out in the rain. She would rather sweat the curls out of her hair pleasing him than let the rain wash them out. “How do you know Paris is here?”
“He never goes anywhere,” Stefan said. “If I had to bet my life on it, I'd say he was still in the bed sleep.”
“What! It's damn near eight o'clock.”
“What does that mean?” Stefan asked. “I've known Paris to stay in the bed from one day clean into the next.”
Simone giggled. “Now, that's lazy.”
“Who are you telling?” Stefan said.
“I wonder if Michael ever confronted Paris about what happened to his place.”
Stefan shrugged. “Who knows; ask him when we get in there.”
Paris opened the door and stood in the doorway, wearing a scarf around his head, a wife beater, and a pair of blue spandex capris.
Stefan leaned against the rail on the porch and grabbed his chest. “Oh Lord, somebody call the police.”
“What's wrong?” Paris and Simone asked in unison.
“Somebody done robbed Pari
s!”
Stefan shouted.
Simone flipped her cell phone open to call the police.
“What are you talking about?” Paris asked. “Ain't nobody robbed me.”
“Then what the fuck happened to yo' ass and titties?” Stefan asked. “Don't tell me you've worn down all your breast and butt pads already.”
Simone squealed to the top of her lungs with laughter.
“Oh, go to hell!” Paris snapped as he turned around and walked back into the house.