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thought was he had to be paying these girls for pussy.
    Bored with taunting my brother, I cleaned up the vomit and decided to go to my bedroom, get dressed, and get up outta the house to see what was popping off in the hood. I walked over to my dresser and pulled out a pair of cutoff jean shorts and a shabby T-shirt with Tupac on the front of it. You woulda thought with all the money my momma made selling drugs, she would at least make sure her children were laced, but instead she spent her money on all the different niggas she fucked. Even at the young age of fifteen I knew that niggas only fucked with her because she paid them to. My momma wasn’t the prettiest person in the world, but she wasn’t the ugliest either. She was short, black as fuck, overweight, and kept a scarf wrapped around her nappy-ass head at all times. Thankfully the only thing I’d inherited from her was her color. I got my slim build, height, good hair, and my good looks from my daddy who was part Creole and Puerto Rican. I really couldn’t remember him since he’d left my mom when I was little. I didn’t have no memories, no pictures, no nothing. Only thing I had was a baby doll named Gi-Gi that he’d bought me for my first birthday; other than that I had nothing to remember him by. According to my aunt and maternal grandmother that was more than enough; they’d always told me I wasn’t missing much. I still felt like a piece of me was missing. I was always jealous because Miguel had his father in his life and I didn’t. He constantly reminded me that Rick was his father and not mines.
    I grabbed my robe off my bed and headed to the bathroom. After getting undressed, I examined my boyish figure in the mirror. I was tall, dark, and skinny. Miguel always made fun of me calling me Ms. Six O’Clock cause I was built straight up and down, with no curves at all. My momma said once I started having sex my curves would eventually come. I guessed I would never get any ’cause I was never having sex.
    After my shower, I quickly got dressed, brushed my hair into a ponytail, and headed toward the door.
    â€œYou betta be yo’ ass home before dark,” my momma warned as I opened up the front door.
    â€œYeah, a’iiiight,” I responded and continued on my way.
    â€œFast-ass hefah,” I heard her say as I closed the door behind me.
    I jumped on the elevator and rode it down to the first floor. I held my breath the entire time because I couldn’t stand the putrid piss smell every time I got on. I stepped off and ran into Budz and some other random niggas who were having a dice game in the hallway.
    â€œHey, Budz.” I smiled widely as my heart skipped a few beats.
    He looked up briefly from the dice game and smiled. “Hey, sis, wassup?”
    I hated when he called me sis. “Nothin’, ’bouta go blow somethin’. I need to get my mind right,” I said, trying to sound grown.
    â€œBlow what? Some candy cigarettes?” He laughed, making the other niggas laugh too.
    â€œSome weed, what else you think I’m gon’ smoke?” I answered, embarrassed while rolling my eyes, knowing damn well I didn’t know anything about smoking weed.
    â€œYou need to have yo’ ass in school,” he said before rolling the dice.
    â€œI go to school,” I lied.
    â€œWhatever,” Budz said hitting a quick lick before grabbing his money off the floor and standing up. “Miguel home?” he asked, counting his winnings.
    â€œYeah, his fat-ass up there,” I joked.
    Budz shook his head and smiled before pressing the button on the elevator. I watched as he stepped on. He hit the number seven button and winked at me as the doors closed.
    With chills running up and down my spine, I hurried out of the apartment building to go brag to my girls Nikki and Sierra about how Budz just tried to get on with me!

Chapter 2
    From Rags to Riches
    â€œBitch,