Bad Apple - the Baddest Chick (5 page)

She looked around the restaurant and shook her head at all the hungry black people in the place. Most were overweight and out of shape, but not Apple. She was always watching her figure and knew that obesity wasn’t coming her way anytime soon.

Mesha came to the table with a tray of food and sat opposite Apple. The two began tearing into their burgers and downing the sweet teas that they loved, especially on a hot spring day.

“Oooh, I needed this. This tea going down my throat is better than sex right now,” Mesha joked.

Apple laughed. “Shit, you crazy, girl. I don’t know about that. It’s a’ight.”

“Whateva. You know it’s hot, and ya pussy probably sweating like a runaway slave.”

“My shit a’ight,” Apple said. “See, she cooling. You’re the one in the skintight jeans who got these niggas lookin’ and breaking their necks at you.”

“Girl, and like you don’t, wit’ them shorts you got on, legs showing and teasing muthafuckas. You a mess, Apple.”

“I’m a mess that’s gonna be lookin’ fly at Summer Jam.”

“I hear that shit. You and me both, bitch,” Mesha chimed, slapping Apple five.

They continued eating their meals and feeling the eyes of men watching them from all over the room.

Mesha noticed two cuties in the place that she wouldn’t have minded getting with, but she was content with her boo, Naquin. The couple had been together since freshman year in high school, and he was Mesha’s first.

Mesha was a sultry, long-legged, ravishing beauty with light skin, hazel eyes, and shoulder-length black hair. When it came to beauty, she and Apple were running neck and neck. Still, they never hated on each other and had been friends since junior high school.

Apple was petite and curvy. Mesha was too, but she had thicker hips and more butt for the men to stare at. Both girls were able to stir up a man’s heart without even a thought. The two couldn’t even eat their food in peace without several men trying to approach them for conversation and a minute of their time. But the two girls, used to being hit on and approached, sometimes with good manners or just plain rudely, turned the eager men down.

“Ill . . . not,” Mesha commented about one of the guys that tried to come on to her. He was tall and shapeless, with a scruffy beard, and had hopes of getting her number.

“Stop being picky,” Apple said with a smile.

“You fuck him then.”

Apple chuckled. “Never that.”

“A’ight then. Besides, when was the last time you got some dick? Or are you still tryin’ to save it for Cross?”

“I’m good. You know I get mines,” Apple replied.

“And when was that? The last nigga I know you fucked was Terrance. What? His ten-year sentence got you dried up now?”

Apple sucked her teeth and remembered Terrance as being only a fling, a substitute until the real thing came along.

“Then before him, Jason. Oh, and I can’t forget Ramee. Yeah, he fucked you
and
your sister.”

“And?”

“I’m just sayin’, girl . . . I ain’t tryin’ to get at you, but you need to stop waiting for Cross, and get booed up soon. You ain’t gettin’ any younger. You done passed up on some fine niggas that wanted to holla at you. Besides, when have you ever known Cross to wife up some chick? Shit, that nigga’s too busy treatin’ his dick like it’s some fuckin’ passport, traveling up in all them hoes, like he JetBlue or somethin.”

Apple sighed.

“I’m just sayin’, do you and stop waitin’ around daydreaming about this dude.”

Apple heard her out, but she was still determined to pursue Cross. He was the one who made her heart skip beats and her panties wet like she had dipped them in a river.

The two finished up their meal and left the chain food spot, only to be approached by two young thugs waiting by the exit.

“Yo, ma, let me holla at you for a minute,” one of the young thugs called out.

“Yo, shawty, let me holla at you,” the second said, chasing after Apple.

The ladies laughed and replied in unison, “We good.”

“I’m sayin, ma, y’all lookin’ good as shit. What’s ya name?”

Mesha and Apple continued smiling while walking away. They didn’t even bother looking back.

“Yo, ma, why y’all actin’ like that? I’m sayin’, what’s good wit’ y’all?”

When they were far enough away, they heard one of the thugs yell out, “Yo, fuck y’all stuck-up bitches then! Wit’ ya stank pussies!”

Mesha turned, flipped him the middle finger, and shouted, “Fuck you too!”

They laughed it off and headed for Mesha’s apartment.

When the girls entered the lobby, they bumped into Supreme, who was exiting the building. Apple looked at Supreme indifferently as she walked beside Mesha.

Supreme smirked. “I hope you didn’t forget about me, Apple,” he said, as he kept it moving.

Confused, Mesha looked at Apple. “What’s he talkin’ about, Apple?”

“He’s a creep.”

“I don’t like him. You ain’t fuckin’ wit’ him, right, Apple? I mean, you ain’t borrowed money from him or nothin’?” Mesha asked with concern.

“No, Mesha,” Apple lied. “You know that nigga’s a pervert.”

“Yeah, he is.”

The girls made it up to Mesha’s apartment, where she lived with her seventy-year-old grandmother. They rushed into her room and began trying on the clothes they had bought from Jay-Ray. They modeled in front of Mesha’s easel floor mirror while listening to Hot 97.

Apple gazed at herself in the mirror, wearing one of the skirts. As she turned around in the outfit, she looked out the bedroom window and noticed Supreme and Guy Tony getting into a black Escalade. She exhaled noisily, thinking about her debt to him. She knew there was no way she was going to pay back Supreme’s money unless she got with Cross.

Apple didn’t have a job or a hustle like Kola. Suddenly, the happiness she once displayed earlier quickly turned into a troubling frown. She thought about she and Kola being twins, both having natural beauty like Queen Nefertiti, yet she was a broke bitch, and Kola was seeing crazy dough, being a hustla. She hated to be compared to her sister, but the truth was, some days she wished she was her sister.

As Apple watched the Escalade pull off, she thought about the wealth Supreme had and wondered why he would bitch over a few hundred dollars when he had probably thousands to his name. She shrugged off her debt. She knew she was probably a small fry, compared to niggas that owed him much more, so she wasn’t going to stress herself.

Mesha noticed the change in Apple’s mood. “Are you OK?”

Apple turned with a forged smile and replied, “Yeah, I’m good. I was just thinking about how we gonna do it up at the concert. Maybe I might snatch me up a baller.”

“Girl, wit’ that skirt and your fuckin’ legs, you might snatch you up a rapper, or maybe an athlete, to sweep you off your feet.”

The girls laughed and continued trying on different clothing in the bedroom. Apple twirled herself around in the mirror, loving how her backside looked in the skirt. She smiled, knowing she looked good.

CHAPTER FIVE

I
t was a balmy Sunday afternoon, and Apple was in her room getting ready for the concert. She had the bedroom to herself. Nichols was in the living room watching cable, her mother was out in the streets, and Kola was in the third bedroom, with the door shut. Apple was excited about this evening. She had her outfit displayed on the bed, and the stereo was playing her favorite song by Nicki Minaj. She was in the mirror doing her hair and singing to “Your Love.”

Apple sang the lyrics with feeling, thinking about Cross. She was glowing in the mirror, thinking about love.

She, Ayesha, and Mesha had planned to take a cab to Penn Station and get on the New Jersey Transit to Jersey. Since the concert was starting at six o’clock, they had less than three hours to arrive before the first performance, and Apple didn’t want to be late.

Apple swayed, bobbed to the tune, and continued singing. When the song ended, she repeated the track from the beginning, knowing she could listen to it all day while thinking about Cross.

After touching up her hair, she realized she was out of eyeliner. She sucked her teeth, knowing she had to ask Kola. Wanting to look good, she swallowed her pride, walked over to Kola’s room, and knocked hard on the door.

“What?” Kola shouted.

“It’s Apple. Why you got the door locked?”

“’Cause I’m busy!” Kola yelled.

“I need to borrow your eyeliner. Open the damn door!” Apple shouted back.

“Apple, I’m fuckin’ busy!”

“Well, I’ma keep on knocking until you ain’t busy,” she snapped back.

Kola snatched open the bedroom door and glared at Apple. “You and Nichols already be borrowing my shit wit’out fuckin’ asking.”

“I don’t touch your shit, Kola. That’s Nichols.”

Looking past her twin, Apple noticed Kola had a guy in the room. Kola was in her usual tight white shorts, which were unfastened, and her nipples showed through a tight T-shirt.

“Why you in my fuckin’ business, Apple? Damn!” Kola closed the door to her room a little.

“I don’t give a fuck who you fuckin’. I just wanna borrow your eyeliner.”

“What? So you can look like a hooker for Summer Jam and hope that maybe you’ll run into your baby, Cross?” Kola teased.

Apple sighed. “Look, you gonna let me use it or not? I can buy my own; I just ain’t got time to run to the store.”

Kola sucked her teeth. “Whatever. Hold on.” She closed the door on Apple and went to get the eyeliner.

Apple stood in the narrow hallway of their apartment, hands on her hip and an annoyed look across her face. She thought Kola had some nerve fucking a guy in their mother’s place.

Kola’s door flew open, and she tossed Apple the eyeliner that she needed.

“Thank you,” Apple said.

“Don’t lose my shit.”

Apple retreated to the bedroom to finish dressing. She wasn’t going to let Kola’s attitude ruin the night she had planned with her girls. Apple looked at the time. It was already a quarter to four, and she wasn’t dressed yet. She quickly donned her outfit and put on the makeup needed to make her look older than she really was. She checked herself in the mirror and loved what she saw. She’d managed to make herself look five years older, and with the body she walked around with, she knew dudes would be sweating her and her girls.

At a quarter past four, the apartment buzzer sounded. Apple ran to answer the door with her shoes in hand. “I got it!” she yelled out. She swung open the apartment door and greeted Mesha and Ayesha.

Mesha looked at Apple with a frown and barked, “You ain’t finished dressin’ yet?”

“I’m done, Mesha. Damn. I just gotta get my shit.”

“Hurry up, girl. You know I ain’t tryin’ to be late,” Mesha said.

Apple ran back into her bedroom, while Mesha and Ayesha walked into the apartment, saying hello to Nichols, who was on the couch watching MTV.

Nichols turned around and noticed the girls’ attire. “Damn! Y’all is lookin’ right.”

Mesha smiled. “You know it.”

“I’m goin’ next year wit’ y’all,” Nichols said with an eager smile.

“I hear that,” Ayesha said.

Mesha had on a pair of tight, drop-waist, double-button Seven jeans that highlighted every curve, a pair of white open-toe Fendi heels, and a liquid-gold mesh halter top that draped over her body and accented her breasts.

Ayesha wore a belted Lurex herringbone DKNY mini-skirt that exposed her thick legs and phat ass, with a pair of wraparound heels that made her look like an Amazon, and a tight sexy top that showed the outline of her nipples. Both women looked like divas.

They talked to Nichols while waiting for Apple, and the three focused on MTV’s
The Real World
, admiring some of the cuties on the show.

Ten minutes later, Apple stepped out of her bedroom looking fabulous in her Marc Jacobs drop-waist skirt, her thick legs looking like they were stretching to the heavens in her favorite six-inch red-and-white stilettos, and wearing a white one-shoulder top that laced up the back and made her tits look immaculate. And her long, sensuous hair fell gracefully down to her shoulders, making her look like one of the cover models for a men’s magazine.

“Chick, you tryin’ to outdo us,” Mesha joked.

Apple chuckled and replied, “Look at y’all bitches . . . fuckin’ divas and shit.”Mesha and Ayesha laughed.

“Damn, Apple, you lookin’ like you thirty and shit,” Nichols commented.

“I do, right?” Apple said with an exciting smile. She clutched her small knockoff Louis Vuitton bag and was ready to paint the city red. She hugged and kissed her sister good-bye then strutted out the doorway with her friends.

The girls made it down to the lobby and rushed to get a cab, since they were running late. It was a change of plan. The girls didn’t want to be one minute late for the concert. They strutted to the cabstand to catcalls, pick-up lines, and compliments from block to block, but they walked close together and ignored the attention.