Read Coldhearted & Crazy Online

Authors: Michel Moore

Coldhearted & Crazy (2 page)

BOOK: Coldhearted & Crazy
5.69Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads
Chapter Two
Kenya

“I hope none of these fake thirsty snakes try to start no bullshit with me today. I'm definitely not in the fucking mood for their messy asses!” Just as Kenya turned the end of the long block she spotted Carmen. She was her girl, for real, for real; her best friend. If ever there was a female who had your back no matter what happened or jumped off, it would be her. Kenya had been in serious physical altercations with groups of jealous girls several times over, and Carmen was always there standing right beside Kenya, if not in front of her, showing their opponents what was really good with them both.

Carmen smirked, tugging down on her skirt. “What up, twin? What's happening?” Carmen always smiled when she said that shit because she knew that it irked Kenya. Her friend always wanted to be known for her own identity. As far as Kenya was concerned London was London and she was herself, twin or not.

“Very funny. Ha-ha, motherfucker, very funny. I been told your ass about that twin shit! I didn't know I had my own personal comedian to walk to school with!” Kenya snapped.

“Damn, girl, is that a new hookup you rocking? That shit is seriously hot to death. I know that ain't no regular off-the-rack shit, is it? You've been straight holding out on this one!”

Kenya was cheesin' from ear to ear, taking in every last one of the compliments Carmen was dishing out. Kenya knew there wasn't a girl from miles around who could fade her style or unique way of rocking her gear. Everywhere she went, people would be on her envious of her wardrobe.

The girls' uncle was always showering them with money, jewelry, and, most importantly of all to a stuck-up Kenya, clothes. The majority of their gear he would get from New York or Cali. Sometimes he'd even have his weave shop owner girlfriend pick out and send garments back from overseas when she'd travel. After his older brother, Johnnie, and his sister-in-law got murdered back in the day, he always tried to look out for his little nieces the best he could. Even when he'd get locked up, which was quite often considering the ruthless lifestyle he lived, he made sure he had his woman continue to hold the twins down. Gran, knowing it was blood money he was spending, didn't like all the expensive gifts he gave the girls, but what could she do? He was their family also: blood. Matter of fact, he was the only one out of the Roberts family who even tried to maintain a relationship with both London and Kenya after their mom died. She knew he truly loved his nieces and would die for them if need be and Gran respected that fact.

Finally, after letting Carmen go on and on with her praise, Kenya, extremely loyal to her friends, told her she would gladly let her have some of the pieces that she didn't want or couldn't fit in.

“Thanks, girl, I love you.” Carmen started trying to hug her friend for always looking out even though she didn't have to.

“Urgg fall back, chick! What I tell your ass 'bout all that kissy-lovey shit? Save that for them busters you be dealing with,” Kenya hissed, trying to play that hard role.

Carmen looked at her girl and shook her head. If ever there was a person in need of a hug and some affection it was Kenya. Carmen knew that her best friend had major issues with trusting or loving anyone or anything. She didn't know or even care to know where Kenya had developed those feelings, because everyone in their Detroit hood had their own problems and demons to deal with and she and Kenya were no different. Life was hard in the Motor City.

As they slow strolled down Linwood Avenue, the pair encountered all types of ghetto hood antics, from early morning junkies bold looking to get a fix, to bums fighting in the middle of the street over the last sip of a warm beer some stranger had just tossed out the window. The classmates could have just as well taken the side streets and avoided all the turmoil of street life, but the girls loved to fuck with the “common folk” as they called them: “Y'all girls look pretty today, can you spare a dollar? Get an education, do you have a quarter?” or “I'm trying to get something to eat and I need thirty-five cents.”

Kenya, immune to sympathy for the next person's bad luck in life, had heard every crackhead, drug addict, and sorry-ass story in the book known to man. Sometimes she and Carmen wouldn't hesitate humoring themselves by making them do outlandish things no sane human being would even consider. She would have them bark like a dog for fifty cents or imitate other farm animals for their own childish amusement. There was no limit to what they could easily encourage a Detroit crackhead to do if the price was right. And since times were so hard and cold in the city, the price was always right.

As Kenya and Carmen passed the liquor store, Daisy appeared. She was a middle-aged woman hard in the face strung out on heroin, who used to be friends with both Kenya's parents and wouldn't let the young teen forget it. No matter where the girls would go in the economically stressed neighborhood of longtime homeowners, they were reminded about their deceased parents' impact on the community and its residents, whether they were fond memories or not.

“Yeah, me, your mama, and daddy used to get our souls proper back in the day! All top side, uncut! That good shit!” Daisy rocked from side to side to the imaginary music that was playing in her drug-infested mind. “I'm telling you, Kenya or London or whichever one you is, your daddy only copped the best shit this damn city ever seen! Oh yeah! Ol' Johnnie Roberts knew how to play the game, for real!”

Always begging for this, that, and the third, she felt Kenya and London were obligated to give her spare change whenever she asked for it just on the strength that she and their parents shared needles or blow from time to time. Some mornings, this one in particular, Kenya was in one of her moods and cruelly decided to make Daisy dance for a dollar, recording it on her cell phone so she could laugh at it later and post on Facebook. After humiliating her parents' less fortunate friend with not much coaxing, she and Carmen ran off giggling.

“What's so funny, y'all?” It was Allan, their homeboy from around the way. Randomly, he always seemed to appear out of nowhere when they least expected him to. He always walked with the girls to school. “I said what's so damn funny? Why y'all laughing so hard?” He gave both of his friends a stupid look as he repeated his question, not receiving an answer the first time. They girls looked at each other and busted out laughing again.

“Nothing, nothing.” Kenya was wiping the tears off her face. “It's just I didn't know that people could be so desperate that's all.”

Allan never got the joke and the girls let it go, especially because Allan's mom was a closet head. Ain't no true secrets in the hood and his mother's smoking crack most certainly wasn't one of them. Everything in the dark always comes to light, please believe. Sure she didn't hang on the corner selling pussy or begging for bottles like Daisy's good dancing ass or the other no-pride-having addicts, but a head was a head, bottom line. It wasn't any true shame to what your kinfolk did. Like Daisy always pointed out, way back it was cool to snort a line or shoot a li'l somethin'-somethin' into your veins, but now a dopefiend was treated like public enemy number one. But in the here and now, as long as it wasn't you yourself getting high sucking the glass dick, it was all good. Hell, everyone had a fool somewhere in their family tree. That was life.

The trio finally arrived at Central High School. While Allan was a junior for the second time, both of the girls were only freshman, but you damn straight couldn't tell by the reception they received. As soon as they cleared the metal detector, it was all smiles and handshakes on their end for the most part. Every guy in the school wanted to get with Kenya if they weren't gay, and of course her ever-present sidekick Carmen came along for the ride. Even the upperclassmen, who usually didn't fuck with crab-ass freshmen, would stop what they were doing to gawk at the girls' asses bounce by in those tight jeans or hooker short skirts that the two were infamous for wearing. But of course as always there had to be haters on deck lurking. You know that bullshit goes without saying. Hell, real talk, haters make the world go round and what school wasn't blessed with them, Central students included, who regularly took hatin' on the next person, in particular her, to the next level on a day-to-day basis.

“They should rename this bitch Hater High but that might be too much like right!” Kenya blurted out loud as she mean mugged a few chicks who were giving her just as much shade and fever as she was giving them.

As much attention as the fellas gave Kenya and Carmen, the other girls would stare them down and often roll their eyes at the pair. Truthfully speaking, there was not one single female who really liked the conceited pair. However, Kenya made it perfectly clear she couldn't care less if any bitch in the entire school liked her or not; they were damn sure gonna respect her. She was settling for nothing less.

“Hey, ladies, I like your outfits.” One girl grinned at Carmen and Kenya, while trying to be a real smart-ass.

Kenya peeped that shit out and let the girl have it Kenya Roberts style. “Girl, I like your outfit too. I know I say that every week when you wear it, but it's so cute.” Carmen and Kenya gave each other the side eye and snickered as they left the dusty female looking and feeling stupid as hell for even trying it in the first place.

“You crazy!” Carmen was smiling and falling against the locker after Kenya had cleverly checked one of their many frenemies.

“Man, fuck that skank-a-dank low-budget bird! She runs around here, always trying to be slick-mouthed all the time like her own shit don't stank. Imagine that whore trying to come for me!” Kenya huffed, caught up in her emotions. “She should try putting that jaw of hers to better use and maybe, just maybe, one of those losers she fucks with would upgrade that yesteryear wardrobe she be rocking!” Kenya tried to hold her laughter as she gave the girl one more casually fake smile from across the hall as she entered her class. Once she made it inside the classroom and took her seat, Kenya was quickly surrounded by guys wanting a few minutes of her time. After a few moments of her holding court, the bell rang for the start of first period.

London

“I love you, Gran!” London lovingly told her with affection as she left out the front door.
Let me double check. I've got all my books, my homework and my lunch.
London always took her own lunch so she could sit under a tree and study if she found time. As she slowly walked down her block, the compassionate teen always took time to speak to all of her neighbors, asking if each was having a good day. She, unlike her sister, was friendly to everyone, which was why everyone on the entire close-knit block loved London much more than her cynical-minded twin.

At the very end of the street barely stood the house where Amber and her family lived. She was London's best friend ever since she was four years old and came to live with Gran. Even though she had her sister to play with, Amber made living on Glendale bearable. At first London seemed to miss her old toddler playmates, her own bed, and her own house, not to mention both her parents, but with the love of Gran and the friendship of Amber, she would grow into her new life without any noticeable problems.

“Hey, girl.”

“Hey, Amber.” London returned her friend's smile.

“Did you get a chance to finish that report in English you were working on?” Amber had a sympathetic look on her face, hoping for the best. She knew all the hell that her best friend London caught trying to study at home; with Kenya blasting the radio half the night and talking on the phone the other half, London fought hard to keep her grades up and her sanity intact.

“Yeah, I got it finished, finally. The teacher wanted at most four pages, but I ended up with six and a half. I tried to cut some down,” London said nonchalantly, always known for overdoing it when it came to schoolwork.

Amber grinned, telling London the exact same thing she said after every A paper that London received. “Please don't forget the little people when you become president one day.” They both smiled as they continued walking down the same side street they took every day.

“Hello, girls.” The old lady who walked her little dog every morning waved.

“Hi,” they answered in unison.

They always stopped to talk to old Mr. Phelps. He was practically blind and a lot of kids in the neighborhood would throw stuff on his porch to scare him and always left his gate wide open. He being eighty-one and blind made him an easy target for kids and drug addicts alike who often took advantage of his disabilities. London, known for being overly nice, would sometimes lose her temper, like her sister, and get in the zone falling into the dark side. It didn't happen often, but seeing some of her peers mess with the elderly or people who couldn't stand up and defend themselves was one surefire way to get London up in arms and to prove she was also her father's daughter.

“Hey, Mr. Phelps,” the girls yelled up to the porch where he sat every morning. “How you doing? Do you need anything on our way back from school?” they both inquired.

“No, girls, I'm fine, just fine. I'm just getting some of that good morning air, thanks for asking.” Mr. Phelps smiled and thought how nice London and Amber both were. He knew those two girls were going to be somebody someday. Especially London, who'd always made sure on Sundays to bring him by a healthy plate that her Gran would cook.

“I hope there's not going to be a science test today,” London stated while kicking a can down the street.

“Me too,” Amber agreed as the high school came in sight.

Both girls chatted between themselves about school, homework, and other things that teenage girls talked about: boys. Although her sister was the self-proclaimed diva of Detroit's Central High, London went through school practically unnoticed by both boys and girls alike. The only people at school who noticed Amia London Roberts were her teachers. She was the only one in class who would turn in all of her assignments on time, sometimes the only one who turned them in period. They admired her ambition. Yet, some of the least enthusiastic instructors hated the fact that London had a lot more knowledge than they possessed on most subjects and never once seemed to let them forget that fact.

Some teachers just wanted to cash their paychecks, avoid conflict, and go home to their families. However, London was having none of that. She had a thirst for knowledge and made all her teachers earn their salary, each and every penny. Gran used to joke that London had been here before, and many she'd encounter believed her grandmother's assessment to be true.

As London and Amber entered through the doors of school, they went their separate ways. London went in and out the crowds with ease. She didn't want to bump into anyone or call attention to herself. If she were to make eye contact with any of her sister's sworn enemies, she would give them a faint smile and try to avoid confrontation if at all possible. Some days, of course, were better than others.

“Hey, twin,” Shannon hissed with a hint of nastiness she was infamously known for.

“Hello, Shannon,” replied London nonchalantly, trying not to look up. She knew both Kenya and Shannon equally hated each other and that made Shannon in turn hate London because she looked exactly like her sister.
All this crap probably over some stupid boy,
thought London. “Why are females so one-dimensional? They need to elevate their brains,” she mumbled underneath her breath.

“Excuse me, but did you say something over there you want to repeat, Ms. Thang?” growled Shannon as she bucked her eyes out wanting trouble.

Having more self-control than her sister, London shook her head and walked away, not once looking back. She heard Shannon and her girls still laughing as she made her way down the hall but she didn't care. London scurried up the hallway quickly before the last bell rang, not wanting to be late. As she passed by one of the classrooms, she saw the most popular girl in the entire school surrounded by a flock of boys. She waved at her sister, Kenya, who waved back. London had to get to class. The bell was ringing.

BOOK: Coldhearted & Crazy
5.69Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

An Irish Country Wedding by Patrick Taylor
Murder in Grub Street by Bruce Alexander
Deceived by James Koeper
Magic and the Texan by Martha Hix