Salty: A Ghetto Soap Opera (Drama In The Hood) (2 page)

"Y'all chill that out man. Why y’all hating? “Peter said in Jazz’s defense.

Deonta’s tall, bumpy face ass had the nerve to add in his two cents.

"Naw, P, you don't wanna mess with her. That trick’s a hoe. You ain't heard? "

"Stale her out, y'all. That shit ain't cool." P said.

"Peter its cool." Jazz said.

Today was the day that she had to throw the lady shit out the window. She wasn't trying to get embarrassed in front of the guy that was flirting with her. It was time to turn the tables.

“
Nigga, hoe or not, I wouldn't give your dusty ass no play if my life depended on it."

That was so unattractive of me. Why did I let them take me there? Oh well!

Bumpy face spoke up: “I'll slap you bitch, but it ain't worth it. I'll just let my home girl fuck you up."

Old boy was fronting. He knew damn well he wasn’t about to do nothing to Jazz. If he had, all Jazz had to do was say one word, and the entire project would be on his head. Her daddy and uncle resting in peace are well respected in the same projects the big mouth boy stayed in.

“
Don’t front like you doing me a favor." She told him.

He didn't say a word. She then turned to the females, “All three of you BUM bitches are ugly. You couldn't be me on my worst day. Don't hate me because you are you and I’m me.”

“
Oh this bitch trying to show out.” One girl said.

“
She don’t be talking that shit when we at school.” Another girl said.

“
I know you ain't trying to get smart with the homeboy.” the first girl that spoke said.

Jazz responded by giving her the middle finger. The big, yellow, husky girl walked up on Jazz. She pointed her finger at her,

“
I will beat your ass, little girl.” she warned.

“
I know one thing; you better get that finger out my face.”

“
And if I don't?” the girl said and thumped Jazz on the nose.

Without giving it a thought, Jazz gave her a right hook and then a quick left, and then another right. The girl could try all she wanted to grab Jazz’s hair, but it wasn’t happening; Jazz was too quick. Jazz mopped that ass; she dragged her, kicked her, and at one point, she bent down with her hand wrapped around the girl’s hair and punched her a few times in the face. The school crowd was hype. Not one of the girl’s friends tried to jump in and help. They were scary anyway; they only talked their mess because they thought they could bully Jazz.

“
One Time.” Someone yelled out, letting it be known that the police were near. Peter then grabbed Jazz, and Deonta grabbed the other girl. Deonta and the girl Jazz was fighting ran out of one side of the gate and Peter and Jazz ran out the other side to his car. He hit the alarm on his car unlocking the doors. Jazz hopped in on the passenger side. Peter was getting in on the driver’s side when something told him to look up. He did, and that's when he saw a purple Camaro. He and the driver made eye contact. The driver frowned up her face, rolled her eyes and rolled up her window. Peter stood there for a second in shock. He couldn't help but shake his head.

“
What you shaking your head for? I know I shouldn't have let that girl take me there.” Jazz said when Peter got in the car.

He started to tell her that wasn't the reason he was shaking his head. He wanted to let her know that he was shaking his head at her cousin; he knew Yay had to see what went down, but went against it. He didn't want to start no mess.

“
Sometimes the only way you will get respect is if you fight.” Peter told her.
Or if you gain status,
he thought!

“
Right!” She said just above a whisper.

The two pulled into traffic. Peter was about to ask her where she lived so he could take her home, but then thought that he wouldn't mind spending a little time with her. He looked over at Jazz.

“
Would you like to make a few runs with me before I take you home?”

Jazz didn't respond. She was thinking about the fight. She then thought about Yay.
Oh shoot,
she thought, let me call her.

“
Dammit. I left my bag.” She said. “My phone and everything was in there.”

“
My bad. I saw your bag drop to the ground and I was meaning to pick it up, but I had to make sure you were alright. I was scared if I took my eyes off of you I wouldn't have been able to stop the fight if somebody jumped in. What was in it?”

“
Nothing, but my phone, my wallet and a few notebooks. Can I use your phone to call my cousin?”

“
My battery dead.” he told her.

She asked did he have a car charger. He told her the fuse blew out the lighter. She sighed.

“
I'll get you another phone, don't trip.” Peter said.

“
No, I'm good. My mom has insurance on it.”

“
Word? But you never answered my question.”

Puzzled, she asked, “What question?”

“
Ride with me a few places and then let’s get something to eat.”

“
Sure.” Jazz smiled.

After Peter made a few drops around Los Angeles County, he and Jazz decided to go to the Beverly Center, where they enjoyed a meal at the Grand Lux Cafe. Jazz could barely have a conversation with Peter because all the boy did was crack jokes. If he wasn't cracking jokes, he was telling her how pretty she was. Basically, her time spent with Peter was full of laughs and blushing. They did get serious for a good thirty minutes. That's when they talked about Peter's mom passing, how he went from a nobody to a somebody, and how he was looking for a nice young lady to accept him for him. Jazz talked about her father being in prison and how she was happy that he would be home within the next year. She told him about her dreams of becoming a famous tap dancer and that she couldn't wait until she graduated. Jazz not only wanted to get away from Locke, but she wanted to go to college. Her major would be dance of course. By the end of their evening together, the two agreed that they had a good time and wouldn't mind seeing each other again. Not wanting to speak to soon, and/ or seem desperate, Peter and Jazz kept their thoughts about how they imagined the other in their future to themselves. Jazz felt Peter was mature enough to respect a lady, plus he was cute to her and made her laugh. Peter felt that he finally found somebody that he could be his self with; goofy or silly Peter is what they used to call him back in the day. Some people still did. Jazz seemed as if she liked him for him and not his money or hell of a sex game. Sex and money is all the girls wanted him for; he knew eventually he would get tired of it, and when he did, he wanted someone like Jazz on his team.

************

The sun had set and the moon was coming out when Peter dropped Jazz off at home. As soon as she got in the house she told her mother what happened at school. She would wait until later to tell Pam about her date with Peter. Pam was going off about the fight. She was ready to go up there and whip some ass. Pam was a straight rider. She didn't take no mess, especially when it had something to do with Jazz. Jazz told her mother that she handled hers and that it was no need to go up there. She told her that she was sure they didn't want none after she put a beating on the biggest, loudest one from the crew. She also told her that since she was six months away from graduating, that if they did try something she would bring it to the counselor’s attention. She didn't want to get kicked out or have a suspension on her record. Her mother told her that was cool, but promised if she ever saw any of them bitches she was going to tap that ass.

“
Ok, mommy.” Jazz said and went up to shower.

The entire time in the shower she thought about Peter. He was such a gentleman. He pulled her seat out for her, paid for the meal, and he even offered to get her a new cell phone. He showed interest in what was important to her. If she would have known that all she had to do was snag an older dude to spark her interest, she would have been dating. She then thought about Yay-Yay; the older dudes she hung around were only after one thing: sex. Peter was one of the most mature twenty-two year olds she met thus far. She prayed that Yay-Yay still felt the same way she felt about him when she dissed him back in the day.

After Jazz showered and put on her PJ's, she called Yay-Yay. When Yay answered the phone, she went off on Jazz about her not being at the school when she went up there, and how she wasn't answering her phone calls. Once Yay was finished venting, Jazz told her about the fight as if she did not know.

“
Well you still should have called.” Yay said.

"I lost my phone and Peter’s phone was dead." She told her.

"Oh you was with Peter? Peter, Ken’s Peter?" Yay played it off.

"Yes. But it’s not like that. I know he’s checking for you."

"Girl, please. That's all you. I don't like him. I'm trying to get with Ken.”

Jazz was so excited.

“
I’m going to set something up. Girl, when you wanna go? How about this weekend?” Jazz said all in one breath.

Yay ignored the excitement in her tone.

"That's fine."

“
Alright, girl. I'm going to call Peter. But let me tell you about our date today.”

“
Um. Call Peter and let him know what's up. I got something to do. Tell me tomorrow what he said.”

“
K!” Jazz said.

Yay ended the call.

**********

Jazz and Yay-Yay were at Jazz’s house getting ready so they could go hook-up with Peter and Ken. The two cousins went shopping earlier that day. Jazz picked out what she thought was simple: a burnt orange stretch dress that complimented her dark brown skin tone. Jazz’s small frame and round bottom made her look like a super model. She wore a pair of silver, Steve Madden sandals, and matching silver accessories set the outfit off just right. After Jazz applied her Moth To A Flame lip glass from Mac, she blotted her face with her walnut Bobbi Brown compact foundation. She turned to look at her older cousin. Yay wore her beauty with confidence. She looks hot: Jazz thought. Yay-Yay wore a black mini skirt with a red, backless shirt that showed her belly and some clear, 4 inch stilettos. She dressed her face with silver eye shadow and red lipstick. She looked like an off duty stripper - which she was.

Yay could see from the corner of her eyes that Jazz was admiring her sexiness. It wasn’t nothing new; Jazz always did.

“
You look pretty.” Jazz told her cousin.

“
I know.” She simply replied.

“
You think this looks right?” Jazz asked. Looking down at her outfit.

“
You picked it out. I guess.”

Before Jazz could say something negative about herself, her mother walked into the room and spoke,

“
You look classy and beautiful.” Her mother said.

“
What about me, auntie?”

“
Yay, you look sexy. Something someone your age can look.”

“
I wanna look sexy too.”

Pam eyed her daughter.

“
Just because you hang with a 20 year old don’t mean you’re grown. When you get Yay’s age I may let you dress that sexy.” She teased.

Pam never dictated what Jazz wore. She didn’t have to. Jazz never liked to show too much. When Pam used to shop for her and buy her little shorts, she wouldn’t wear them; she said it made her look fast. Maybe she learned it from her grandmother; her granny always said, showing too much don't make you look better, just slutty, and easy. Or maybe it was the fact that she didn’t like the attention her mother received when she barely wore any clothes that Jazz was selective about how much she showed. But tonight she wanted to look just as slutty as Yay, if not sexier. It never really mattered before how she looked compared to Yay, because Yay would get all the attention anyway, and she was cool with that. But now that she had a guy’s attention that she liked, she wanted to keep it and not allow Yay-Yay or anyone else to take the spotlight.

“
I think I want to wear my skirt.” Jazz said.

“
Girl, please. It’s time to go.” Yay said and walked out the room like her word was final. It was, because Jazz kissed her mother and followed behind her. The girls walked out the door and jumped in Yay-Yay’s Camaro en route to the west of L.A where Peter stayed.