Bad Apple - the Baddest Chick (6 page)

They reached the cabstand on the busy Harlem street and asked the driver how much it would cost them for a ride to Giants Stadium.

“Eighty-five dollars,” the driver informed them.

“Damn! Why you lying?” Mesha barked.

“It’s eighty-five dollars. That’s gas, tolls, and bridges,” the driver said.

It was already a quarter to five, and the girls didn’t want to be late for the opening act.

Mesha sucked her teeth and looked at her girls. “Yo, what y’all wanna do? I mean, it’s already almost five, and to keep it real, I look too fuckin’ cute to be gettin’ on a train or bus and be worrying about these thirsty-ass niggas dirtying me up.”

“I’m sayin’, that fare is a little too steep, Mesha,” Apple let it be known.

“Apple, look at us. I’m sayin’, how much you got to put up?” Mesha asked.

“I got twenty-five,” Ayesha chimed.

“A’ight, I got forty then.”

Both girls looked at Apple to fill in the gap.

Mesha said, “Apple, all you gotta do is put up twenty, and we good.”

After spending money on clothes, her hair, and a few other expenses, Apple only had eighty dollars left. Though the bus and train were cheaper, she didn’t want to be late for the concert either. Reluctantly, she agreed, and the girls jumped into the cab and were soon headed toward the George Washington Bridge into New Jersey.

*****

With Sunday traffic, it was a forty-minute ride to Giants Stadium. The girls jumped out of the cab excitedly and were overwhelmed by the hordes of people and cars surrounding the stadium. It was Apple’s first trip outside of Harlem, and by the look in her eyes, Giants Stadium could have been Europe. Even though it was only a few miles from the city, it was something different for her.

The girls hurried to the entrance. They didn’t want to miss a single thing. It was like they were in Hollywood, with high-end cars in the parking lot and celebrity buses and trailers parked not too far from the event. The diversity of people attending Summer Jam was something Apple didn’t expect. She noticed Asians, a few Indians, and even some Russians and Mexicans entering the building. There were also quite a few ladies dressed more provocatively than her and her crew. She knew what they came for—to catch a baller or maybe fuck a star.

The groupies were lined up outside of the stadium for miles, with a candid thirst in their eyes. Apple couldn’t blame them, though, because she looked around and noticed the fine men in attendance, different races, and different sizes. She smiled and gawked at a few. She was in cutie heaven with the ballers and shot-callers all around her.

“Damn! Niggas is fuckin’ fine out here,” Apple commented with a smile.

“I know, right.”

“But they ain’t finer than my boo, Ludacris,” Mesha stated.

“You mean my boo,” Ayesha corrected her.

“Uh-uh, my baby comin’ home to me tonight,” Mesha joked.

“Well, as long as no one ain’t touchin’ my husband Drake, we good,” Apple chimed in.

“Whateva, Apple,” Mesha teased.

The trio soon made it past security into the vast arena and looked around for their seats. In the distance Apple could see her friend, Cartier from Brooklyn, heading down toward the Orchestra seats. It looked like she was with Bam and Lil’ Momma.

“Cartier!” Apple screamed and caught hateful looks from the concert goers. “Cartier!” she yelled once again, ignoring the hard stares.

“Who you callin’?” Mesha asked the obvious.

“What it sound like? I just saw Cartier and her crew inching toward the floor seats. I was hoping to get a hook up.”

“You can’t just leave us,” Mesha stated. “We came together we leave together.”

Apple ignored her. She hated being seated so high, where it was hard to see anything, but happy to be out of Harlem for once, she made the best of it. Once the girls made it to their seats, Apple looked around wide-eyed at the thousands of fans who came to support their favorite artists.

The concert opened up with Drake singing “I’m Goin’ In” with Cash Money’s Birdman. The crowd went crazy. Apple jumped up and down, roaring with excitement with the screaming crowd. As she sang along, she kept her eyes on every single detail, like she would be quizzed on it later. It was an intense experience, with the lights, the blaring music, the colossal projector screens all over, and the screaming fans.

Drake closed the set with his big hit, “Over.” Nicki Minaj performed the summer dancehall anthem, “Hold You” with Gyptian. She then sang “My Chick Bad” with Ludacris. Ayesha and Mesha went crazy, screaming out, “We love you, Ludacris!” The noise in the stadium was almost deafening, louder than any Jets or Giants game.

As the night continued, the crowd’s screams never died down. Gucci Mane and Waka Flocka Flame represented for their state by performing “Wasted,” “Lemonade,” and “O, Let’s Do It.”

Apple was enjoying herself, dancing and singing. Soon, she didn’t care where she was seated, as long as she was at Summer Jam having a good time with her friends.

The show ended with Usher on stage, and his performance was stellar. He closed out the show with a smash, performing “U Remind Me” and “Yeah!” with Ludacris.

Though it was getting late and they had a long ride home, Apple didn’t want to leave. She wanted to linger around to look for Cross, so the girls decided to chill in the parking lot. They followed behind the thick crowd toward the exit. It was madness. Security guided the fans out like a herd. There was shouting, laughing, and a few incidents that got defused quickly.

They exited into the parking lot, where the after-party continued near a few high-end cars and trucks. The ballers and show-offs wanted to impress the ladies walking by with their tricked-out rides and bling. A few ladies mingled with the men, while Apple and her crew continued on their hunt. The girls strutted through the crowd, eyes on them from every direction and the men trying to get at them.

“Yo, ma, let me holla at you.”

“Yo, shawty in that skirt, I’m feelin’ them thighs. What’s good?”

“Damn! Y’all lookin’ fuckin’ right!”

“Yo, love, let me holla at you and your girls, fo’ real.”

The catcalls came from every direction, but Apple and her crew just smiled and kept it moving. They were looking for the right dudes to fuck with, and a ride back to Harlem. It was late, and they dreaded the long train and bus ride back into the city.

“Oh shit! Ain’t that Cross and his friends over there?” Mesha asked.

Hearing Cross’s name made Apple’s heart beat rapidly. She looked around and saw him posted up by his polished black Range Rover, encircled by his bejeweled crew of thugs.

The men came in three flashy trucks, all chromed out with tinted windows and blaring systems. They were the eye-candy in the parking lot, as ladies surrounded the Harlem crew, who had liquor and weed. They joked around and mingled with their admirers like they were celebrities themselves.

“C’mon, let’s go over there and say what’s up. Shit, maybe we can catch a ride back to the block,” Mesha suggested.

Apple was a bit nervous. Seeing Cross so close made her heart flutter. Cross stood tall and fine in a brown Völkl jacket, crisp denim MEK jeans, and sporting a pair of white Uptowns, his jewelry shining nicely. He had a cup of liquor in his hand and was conversing with one of his homies.

“C’mon, Apple, let’s see what’s up,” Mesha called out.

Apple followed behind Mesha and Ayesha. When they got close, Mesha smiled, recognizing a couple of faces. She hollered, “What up, Trey? What up, Dink?”

“Mesha, what’s good?” Dink replied with a smile.

“Y’all tell me. I wanna get my drink on too.”

“Ain’t you too young?” Trey said.

“Nigga, you only nineteen, two years older than me. Anyways, where my cup at?”

Trey and Dink laughed.

“You a wild girl, Mesha,” Dink responded.

Trey hollered, “Ayesha, what’s up?”

“Chillin’.”

Trey and Dink looked over at Apple, and the lust in their eyes said it all.

“Yo, that ain’t Kola, right? She too quiet right now,” Dink said.

“You know her twin, Apple?” Mesha replied.

“Yeah, I see her around. Why you so quiet, ma?” Dink asked with coolness to his voice.

“’Cause I’m her,” Apple replied casually.

Dink laughed. “Damn! You fine like your sister. But all y’all is lookin’ so fuckin’ right. Damn, let me get that ass, Mesha.”

Mesha responded with, “Let me get a cup.”

The men laughed, and Dink quickly poured Mesha a shot of Henny.

“You wanna mix that wit’ somethin’, ma?” Trey asked.

Mesha sucked her teeth, looked at them like they were crazy, and downed the liquor like the best of them. In her youth she was showing off. She wanted attention, and she got it. Trey and Dink were quickly impressed.

“Y’all want a shot too?” Dink asked.

Ayesha answered yes and was already reaching for her cup, but Apple was too busy staring at Cross, who stood just a few feet away from her.

“Yo, Apple, you want some of this?” Dink raised the half empty bottle of Hennessy.

“Yeah, I’m down.”

Dink smiled while pouring her a shot.

Following behind her girls, Apple took it to the head. The liquor left a burning sensation down her throat, as it trickled easily into her system.

Dink poured the three girls another shot, which they downed quickly as well.

It was getting late, and the police started forcing everyone out of the parking lot. They even made arrests for disorderly conduct and other illegal activities that came into play after the concert ended.

Apple, Ayesha, and Mesha were having a good time with Dink and Trey, while Cross mingled with a few ladies. That made Apple jealous, but she kept her cool and continued drinking and chilling with her friends. Apple stared at the bitches holding Cross’s attention and knew she was ten times better-looking than any of them. She bit her tongue, wanting to snatch every bitch away from her man. In her mind, he was hers.

When Cross finally headed in their direction, Apple immediately got excited. He strode their way with a cup in his hand, his eyes focused on the group. He walked up to Dink and Trey, while Apple stood right next to them, and said, “Yo, we ’bout to be out. Five-O’s actin’ up out here and shit.”

“A’ight,” Trey said.

Cross looked at Apple and her friends. “Y’all ridin’ wit’ us?”

“Of course,” Mesha chimed.

Apple asked Cross, “Why? You drivin’?”

Cross chuckled. “You want me to?”

“It’s whateva. I’ll ride wit’ you.”

Cross smiled and then uttered, “You’re cute.”

Apple couldn’t contain her smile. He had spoken to her, and it made Summer Jam the best for her. She wanted to follow Cross and ride with him, but his Range was already packed with his people and a few girls. Apple hated it, but she was fortunate to get a ride back with Trey and Dink in their Escalade that was sitting on 22-inch chrome rims.

As they jumped on the New Jersey Turnpike, following behind Cross, the liquor continued to flow. Soon, the men became a little horny and frisky. Dink was behind the wheel, with Apple riding shotgun.

Trey started to feel up Ayesha’s smooth thighs in the backseat as she sat in the middle. Feeling tipsy, Ayesha and Mesha giggled and laughed, and before long, Trey had unzipped his jeans and pulled out his hard dick to impress the girls. Ayesha leaned in for the kill and slowly began sucking his dick while the truck did seventy miles per hour on the freeway.

“Ayesha is buggin’,” Mesha slurred.

“Damn, nigga! I should’ve let you drive,” Dink uttered, glancing at the action from his rearview mirror.

Apple just shook her head, knowing she wasn’t about to tag along with Ayesha. When Dink looked at her with a hint in his eyes, she gave him the screw face and said, “I ain’t my homegirl or my sister!”

With a look of disappointment, Dink replied, “Then maybe ya ass need to ride in the backseat and ya girl need to be up front.”

“Whateva,” Apple shot back.

Ayesha continued to suck Trey’s dick, feeling the hard flesh going in and out of her mouth.

With his hand tangled in her hair, Trey moaned and closed his eyes, loving the way her glossy lips were taking care of him.

Mesha felt that wild urge between her thighs too. Liquor always made her horny, and the four cups of Henny that she’d downed had her feeling like she was ready to be a porn star—despite having a man at home.

“Yo, y’all wanna get a room?” Dink mentioned.

Dink was horny and wanted in on the action too. Ayesha and Mesha looked down for whatever, so he was ready to take full advantage of the young, liquored-up teens and fuck them till dawn came.

“Y’all do whateva. Just take me home,” Apple stated.

“Yo, ma, why you actin’ like that?” Dink asked.

“’Cause I’m tired, a’ight?” Apple was annoyed and slightly embarrassed by the hood-rat behavior of Ayesha.

“Shit, you may look like your sister, but you ain’t fuckin’ fun like her. I mean, is ya pussy gold-plated?” Dink smirked.