Damaged (17 page)

“That shit looks hot!” she squealed after I finished squeezing the spandex tube over my butt.

“Wait, put this on, too,” she said, reaching for a wide black belt. TCB was blasting from the radio as Shakira jiggled her
hips in the mirror behind me to the pounding congo beat. “You goin’ make that money tonight, girl!”

I looked myself over, more nervous than impressed, and then slipped into Shakira’s clear stilettos. She had on a black and
red halter dress with black strappy sandals. Peaches ran her comb through my hair—a long, brown lace-front wig she made for
me, gold highlights and all.

“I hope you ain’t got no panties on. You ain’t gonna need them. Here,” Peaches said, reaching into her bag to give me a small
pack of baby wipes. “This is what you’re gonna need. Put this in your bag.”

“She ain’t lying,” Shakira said, stuffing her own bag with a pack.

“And here are some condoms,” Peaches said.

I ain’t never use one before, but I remembered my sex-ed teacher rolled one over a banana, and Nissa had asked if it was true
that you could still get pregnant with a condom. When the teacher said it was rare, but possible, I knew it wasn’t gonna matter
one way or the other if I told Chu to use one, since Mrs. Brinkley had me on the shot. So we never did.

Peaches had on a gold one-piece catsuit I had never seen her wear. Even though she shopped at Rave, this ain’t look like something
she would ever buy. But then again, I ain’t know Peaches like I thought I did.

“You nervous?” Trina Boo asked, walking into the apartment, standing beside me in the full-length mirror. She looked innocent
in her green-and-white striped halter dress, like she was going to a club or to a concert in the park. I gave her a closed-mouth
smile and raised my eyebrows. Of course I was nervous.

“She look good, don’t she?” Peaches asked, fingering my hair.

“She sure do.”

“All right, y’all, let’s go. Nut told us to be ready at eleven, and I ain’t trying to hear his shit,” Peaches said. “Trina
Boo, go tell Wynika to hurry up and meet us in the truck.”

“Okay,” she said, disappearing down the steps.

“I hope Andre can watch them boys tonight. His mother likes to trip every now and then,” Peaches said on her way to the door.

“Who is Andre?” I asked, filing behind Peaches and Shakira.

“Wynika’s nephew. Her sister live right across the street in that apartment building,” Peaches said, pointing.

I could hear Wynika telling Ra-Ra and Meko goodnight as she walked to her front door. I walked out to the truck, where Nut
was waiting in the driver’s seat. I could feel eyes on my back, probably from some of the dudes in the neighborhood I had
been ignoring every time they tried to holla at me whenever I stepped one foot out the building.

“She refuse to watch Wynika’s kids for her,” Peaches mumbled as we climbed in the truck. She got in the front passenger seat.
I sat all the way in the back row. Shakira sat beside me and Trina Boo, and Wynika sat in the next row.

“We gotta stop to get Marcha,” Shakira whispered in my ear.

I nodded, remembering her cousin, who had saved us from walking home half naked from that hair-braiding shop the day we got
robbed. I guess she was working for Nut, too. We all waited for him to pull off. He hadn’t said nothing to any of us since
we got in the car. After a second, he pulled off and headed toward H Street, then turned down Sixth Street, and pulled in
front of Marcha, who was standing in front of her building at the corner. She was a little chunky, not as chunky as Wynika,
but she looked sloppy in her red-cropped leggings and her bright orange tank top. Her nose ring was still killing me.

“Hey, y’all,” she said, climbing in the back row to sit beside Shakira.

“Hey,” some of us said. Nut still ain’t say nothing. I looked at him and saw that he was staring at me in the rearview mirror.
I looked away for a second. He smiled and looked at Peaches, who had turned around to see what he was smiling at. I looked
out the window and watched as Nut made a left onto Florida Avenue heading toward Northwest. He jumped on New York Avenue and
drove pass the Convention Center. Nut pulled up on Fourteenth Street, near Logan Circle, and double-parked his truck beside
a hotel.

“All right, bitches, make that ass clap and clear your throats,” Nut said, looking in his rearview mirror. “Get the fuck out
and make that money.”

Everybody climbed out and fixed their clothes in the middle of the street. There was steady traffic, and a few other women
was already out, walking up and down in similar outfits.

“Peaches, take care of Nectar,” Nut said, leaning out the window. “She the pick of the litter. And now she your responsibility.
Ya hear me?”

I saw her roll her eyes before she said, “Okay, baby.”

Shakira handed me a tiny bottle of Grey Goose from her bag. “Drink that shit ASAP. Trust me when I say you goin’ need it out
here.”

I twisted the cap and swallowed the hot liquid in one take.

Shakira giggled. “Here. Put this one in your bag for later. You nervous, ain’t you?”

“She should be,” Wynika said, stepping into the street. “Ain’t nothing out here but monsters.”

I felt chills going up my back as I watched her cross the street. Her wide hips stretched the seams of her hot pink dress.
Marcha and Trina Boo walked on opposite sides of the street, their hips switching hard.

Nut bust a U-turn and drove back down the way we came from.

“Where he going?” I asked, watching his backlights fade until he was totally out of sight. “He gonna come back and get us
later?”

“He might. It depends,” Shakira said.

“On how much money you make tonight,” Peaches said, combing her fingers through her hair. “Come on.”

I bit my lip and walked between the two of them.

“Oh, don’t worry. He’s around here watching,” Shakira whispered. “He like Santa Claus. That nigga knows when you’ve been sleeping.”

A white Sentra crept up beside Shakira and stopped a few feet ahead of her. She waltzed over to the car and giggled a few
times before climbing in the passenger side.

“She going make him take her around the corner, in the alley on L Street,” Peaches said. “Make sure you always make them niggas
use condoms, girl. Even if you giving head. ‘Half and half’ is a little head and a little sex. Charge no less than eighty
for that. If a nigga just wants sex, charge fifty. Make him come as fast as you can. Don’t prolong that shit. If he wants
head, charge forty. If you wanna do anal, that’s up to you. But I don’t do that shit. Fuck no. I gotta save something special
for Nut. Make a nigga pay a hundred for that shit, for real.”

I couldn’t believe I was hearing her.

“Make sure you always ask that nigga two questions. Is you a cop or is you a pimp?” she said. “You need to stay the fuck away
from both of ’em.”

Peaches seemed like she changed to me. Ever since I found out she had been selling her body long before she met Nut, it was
like she stopped acting like she was somebody she wasn’t. She was still nice to me, but something about her seemed different.
Maybe she just seemed more hardcore to me.

“You goin’ keep the baby?” I asked her.

She cocked her head and said, “I told you yeah already. Why you keep asking me that?”

I shook my head and looked away. We walked to the end of the corner without saying another word.

“Wait. There go one of my regulars,” Peaches said, waving at an Italian-looking guy in a gray BMW. “I’ll be back in like twenty
minutes. Time is money,” she said, scooting toward the car. Her heels
clack, clack, clacked
on the smooth pavement.

“Hey, you. How you been?” I could hear her say before she hopped in the car.

Now I was all alone, standing under the lamppost, watching cars crawl down the street like a club was just letting out. There
was all kinds of cars—old ones, new ones. Clean ones, dirty ones. A few had made a couple rounds, I guess to see which one
of us they wanted. I rubbed the backs of my arms as I walked back up the street, listening to the
clack, clack, clack
sound of my own heels and trying to remember everything Peaches just told me. I was scared and nervous. How was I supposed
to remember all of that, and what if somebody tried to hurt me? Rob me? Kill me?

I lit a cigarette and watched Marcha and Trina Boo walking on the other side, taking turns walking out in the street, doing
tricks with their butt to get cars to stop. Trina Boo turned around with her back toward a stopped Impala, and then she bent
down to touch her ankles. Her innocent-looking green-and-white striped dress flew up above her waist. That bitch ain’t have
no panties on. I shook my head. Wynika was nowhere to be found, so she must’ve disappeared with somebody. I watched other
girls I ain’t know walk all the way up the street. A blue Civic inched up beside me, but I kept walking. I ain’t wanna do
this shit.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” the guy asked. He looked to be in his thirties with his thin beard and mustache. “You want to
talk about it?”

I took a deep breath and planted my feet. I thought about Nut lurking behind a tree, watching me, and wondered if he would
try to hit me or something if I ain’t make some of the money back he already gave me. I seen him beat Peaches and I know he
was the reason Shakira’s jaw was swollen that day.

“Hi,” I said.

“Come here, baby girl.”

I strolled, reluctantly, and stood in front of the passenger side.

“What’s your name?”

I cleared my throat and said, “Nectar.”

“Nectar.” He sang it like the name had just quenched his thirst. “Nectar, can I get a little t.o.p.?”

“You a cop?” I remembered to ask.

“Naw, baby girl. I ain’t no cop.”

“You a pimp?”

He laughed and squeezed the top of his steering wheel with both hands. I could tell he was just as nervous as I was, so I
took a deep breath and put my hand on my hip.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Kevin.”

“Hey, Kevin,” I said opening up his car door. “What you want?”

“You,” he said.

His car smelled like he sprayed that new car scent that comes in a bottle, cuz his car definitely wasn’t new. There was plastic
CD cases on the floor under the dashboard. A McDonald’s cup was in the cup holder and some papers was hanging from the visor.

“It’s gonna be a hundred,” I said, hoping he would change his mind.

“A hundred? That’s a lot.”

I stared at him for a second and then squeezed the latch on the car door to get back out. I ain’t wanna do this shit.

“Nectar? Where you going?”

“You goin’ pay up?”

He sighed and then dug in his pocket to get his wallet. I watched him count his money. “All I got is eighty?”

“I guess I’ll suck you for that much,” I said. I knew it was double what Peaches told me to charge, so maybe Kevin would just
say forget it, since it was too high.

He looked at me like I was crazy, but then he said, “Fuck, okay, baby girl. Let me just run to the ATM real quick.”

The ATM?

Nah, he was kidding. He was leaving for real. He just changed his mind. Good. I nodded and reached for the latch again. “See
you when you get back,” I said.

“No, ride with me,” he said, pulling off from the curb. “It’s just going to take one second. A Wachovia is right down the
street.”

I took a deep breath and sunk down in the seat. I looked in the side mirror at the place we was leaving. I could see Marcha’s
orange tank top and red leggings getting smaller. I hoped God wasn’t going to let nothing happen to me.

A minute later, I watched as Kevin put in his pass code and waited for the money to spit out the machine. I opened the other
tiny bottle Shakira gave me and swallowed the Goose. When he got back in the car, he asked me where I wanted to go. I told
him on L Street. I took another deep breath and waited as he parked behind a car.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked.

I shook my head.

“Well, can I touch you at all?”

“Give me the money,” I said. He gave me five twenty-dollar bills and I put them in my bra.

“You all right?” he asked.

I took a condom from my bag and gave it to him.

“I need to touch you or something so I can get him hard,” Kevin whined.

I nodded and let him squeeze my breasts and then rub my thighs. He was just as rough as Mr. Big used to be with me, not gentle
like Chu was. Kevin moaned as he put the condom on with his other hand.

“All right, baby girl. Come to Papa,” he said. “He hard as a rock for you.”

I crossed my chest with one hand, saying a quick prayer, and then climbed over to Kevin’s side of the car. I slowly positioned
myself on top of him and closed my eyes so I ain’t have to look at his face. He smelled like the cologne they sold at CVS,
where the whole aisle smelled the same. Kevin had an average-size dick. He moaned a couple times as I slid up and down and
then he started to shake. The whole thing took no more than four minutes.

“Damn, Nectar. That shit was good,” he said.

I rolled my eyes. Was I supposed to thank him? I wiped myself off with one of the baby wipes and pulled my dress back down.
“Take me back around the corner please.”

“No problem,” he said before knotting the condom and throwing it out the window. “You goin’ be here tomorrow?” he asked after
he pulled up to the spot where he found me.

I nodded, but all I could think about was how easy it was making that money. I climbed out of Kevin’s car as he said, “See
you tomorrow.”

I smiled and turned to walk down the street. I caught up with Shakira and Marcha. Wynika was sitting under a bus shelter across
the street rubbing her feet. I knew those stilettos was killing her, cuz mine was killing me and her hefty butt was three
times my size.

“How it go, girl?” Shakira asked.

I smiled.

“That shit was easy,” I confessed. I decided not to tell nobody I charged double, cuz I was gonna keep my own savings, just
in case this shit with Nut ain’t work out. I figured if any of my customers had a problem with my prices then they could go
pick somebody else. Nut was probably gonna give me a break for a little while since I was new, if I ain’t make him a lot of
money.