Crazy Summer Read Free Page A

robe. Someone in a Delta 88 passed by and blew the horn. She waved and said to herself, Bitch-ass nigga.
      Erica cleared her throat and nervously played with the strap of her leather purse. “I’m supposed to be taking him some weed,” she said in a whisper.
    By now, Mrs. Diane had come to the door. “Who is it, Summa?” she asked, her eyes examining the stranger who stood before her.
    Summer turned toward her mother. “It’s Rodney’s girlfriend.” 
    “Well, y’all come in. Don’t talk on the porch.” She held the storm door open for them.
    Summer and the female stepped inside the living room. She introduced herself as Erica and explained to Mrs. Diane how she and Rodney had met. The two women sat down, while Summer went toward the bedroom. She came back five minutes later dressed in jeans, sneakers, and a t-shirt.
    “I’ll be right back,” she told Erica and her mother.
    Then she walked out the door into the muggy summer heat. Four houses down on the other side of the street, she walked up an uphill driveway where two Cadillacs were parked. Two guys, who were about the same age as she but a little younger, were sitting on the front porch.
    “Fine ass, Summa!” one of them shouted, while standing up with a Michelob gripped in his hand and a Newport hanging from his mouth. “Whazzup?” he asked, grabbing his crotch as she reached the porch.
    “You talked to my brotha?” she asked, ignoring his inappropriate gesture.
    The guy’s facial expression changed. He toned down and became more serious.
    “You come to pick dat up for him?” he asked, then took a draw from his cigarette and turned up his Michelob to take a gulp.
    “Yeah, the girl’s waitin’ at my house now.”
    “Wait right here,” the guy said before jogging around the side of the house.
    Summer sat down in one of the metal chairs facing the other guy on the porch.
    “Oh, you don’t know nobody now?” she said to him.
    He glanced at her briefly before turning his attention back toward the streets. Cars were moving along Amsterdam, one of the busiest streets in Barton Village.
    Looking back at Summer, the guy asked, “When does Rodney get out?”
    “He got three mo’ years, I guess.”
    The other guy came from around the side of the house. In his hand, he held a small, compressed block of marijuana in a sandwich bag.
    “Tell him it’s two O’s compressed together,” he told her. 
    He handed it over, and as she was about to leave, he grabbed her arm. “When you gonna let me get in?”
    “I’ll be back tonight,” she simply replied and walked down the driveway.
    Her walk was so seductive, and with every step, everything on her from the waist down shook uncontrollably. She turned around to make sure all eyes were on her, and they were. She grinned because she knew she had what it took.
    By the time she got back to the house, she noticed Erica had one of her boys on her right thigh. Summer had the weed tucked inside her front pocket because she didn’t want her mother to know what was going on. It wasn’t long before Mrs. Diane had faded into the kitchen, and that’s when Summer slipped her the package. Erica quickly hid it inside her leather purse. After kissing the twins on the cheek, Erica stood up and headed to where she had to go.
    Thirty minutes later, Summer had dressed the kids, placed them in the double twin stroller, and took them for a walk through the neighborhood. The sun was at its peak, or if it wasn’t, it damn sure felt like it. The neighborhood was lined with red brick houses on every street; they were mostly one level, with a few two levels spread here and there.
    By the time she reached her friend’s house on London, she felt her back sweating through her t-shirt. On the lawn, there was a pearl-white old model Chevy Caprice with hammer rims, a black ragtop, and matching crush interior. She had never seen this car before and was anxious to find out who owned it. She got to the porch and lifted her sons