Boyfriend Season Read Free Page A

she said, peeling off a few big bills, paying for the sneakers.
    Meka eyed the money.
    â€œCourtesy of Pharaoh.” Santana took the bags from the salesperson.
    Meka walked out, shrugging. “I’m just saying, Santana. Don’t ever be so sure. K? Nae may not be fire like you but, just like ya man, she gives courtesies too. Maybe not cash, but her courtesies rhyme with cash.”
    â€œAnd I’ll kick her in hers if she tries me again,” Santana pointed out as they exited the mall. “There’s Pharaoh’s car over there. I’ll call you later, Meka.” She blew her best friend air kisses, then sashayed toward her man. “ ’Ey, baby!” Santana waved and cheesed so hard she was sure her teeth would shatter. The wind swept her weave off her back and moved her closer to him.
    Pharaoh played with the chew stick in his mouth, biting and turning and sucking on it as if it were sugarcane. He gave Santana a head nod, reached over and opened her door.
    â€œS’up, shawty? You lookin’ kinda right in dem there jeans.”
    Shaking her head, she put her bags in the backseat and suppressed the melting feeling that swept through her every time he was near. Pharaoh had a way of appealing to her senses, starting with his street talk. Everything he said, no matter how simple, was beautiful to her because she loved his ghetto-fabulous country grammar. Sliding into the seat next to his, Santana leaned her weight to the left until her shoulder touched his, then wrapped her arms around him and met his lips with hers, giving him a sweet peck. They could’ve shared a seat and, still, she couldn’t be close enough.
    â€œThanks. You what’s up. Where’re we going?”
    Pharaoh roared the Charger’s engine and spread his soft lips into a sneaky smile, revealing a platinum and rose-gold grill.
    â€œEr’where Shawty. Ya know? If you still rollin’.” He threw the gearshift in drive, released the brake, and accelerated until their heads indented the headrests like they were on a roller coaster.
    Santana powered down her window, letting the warm Atlanta air flow in and the blaring music out. She bopped her head, reached over, and ran her palm over his arm, loving the way his skin felt on hers. It was intoxicating knowing how powerful her man was. There’s nothing he can’t do. T.I. was rapping in the background. Paper-bag brown, fresh low cut with natural waves, he had just the slightest under bite that made his chin jut forward, causing him to look hard all the time. She took her hand, rubbed it over the hair he was growing on his chin.
    â€œWhat up? You don’t like that, shawty?” He looked over, flashed a slight crooked-tooth smile that revealed his platinum lower teeth, then stopped the car at the red traffic light.
    She blushed. “You know I do.” She reached in the back, retrieved the bag with his fresh kicks in it, then handed it to him.
    He accepted the bag, then looked in it. He opened it and pulled out the Nike box first. A smile surfaced, followed by a low laugh. He nodded. “That’s why I’m wit you, shawty. You a good girl and you know what it is. That’s why I got a surprise for you too. Stick wit ya man, baby, and we going everywhere. Straight to the top, shawty.”

2
    DYNASTY YOUNG
    D ynasty was tired of the nonsense. Super exhausted of her surroundings and the people who inhabited them—inside the apartment and out of it. Especially her only friend, Rufus, whose underwear had been in a twist ever since she ignored his crushing on her, and had made it a point to try to get under her skin any way he could. She shook her head. She couldn’t wait to escape, and she would. Her dictionary would be key in her breaking free, she believed, mentally repeating the definitions her evere-xpanding lexicon required she feed her brain.
    â€œDy-nas-tee. Dyyy-nasty! Die nasty. Die nasty!” Rufus’s