Thug in Me Read Free Page A

back to the Springdales, crying all the way.

Chapter 2
    The front of the building was blocked off. Calhoun and I both sobbed uncontrollably as we though our friend was being wheeled out on a stretcher.
    The bag I was holding slipped from my hand. Calhoun tossed his bag on the ground with anger.
    â€œThis is some fucking bullshit!” he said between sniffles.
    I couldn’t talk, I was sobbing too hard. I instantly thought about all the good times we had all had. Things would never be the same. I knew it. I closed my eyes as hot tears spilled from them. Paul was only fourteen and was dead?
    Then out of nowhere someone tapped me on my back, saying, “What happened?”
    I jumped and turned to see Paul behind me.
    â€œAww! Nigga! We thought that was you!” I exclaimed.
    â€œYeah, man!” Calhoun yelled, “Where you been?”
    â€œI went to the doctor with my mama today.”
    We both leaped on top of his wheelchair and started punching him, happy our friend wasn’t dead.
    But it turned out our good times didn’t last long before we were hit with the real tragedy. Spinabifida, the disease he was born with that caused him not to walk, took his life a couple months later. Calhoun and I never got over it. Calhoun and I were never the same. Things were never the same and our fun was never the fun it used to be.
    Back then Calhoun and I were inseparable. We still had a close relationship but I couldn’t lie and say that the bad choices that Calhoun made didn’t disappoint me. I grew up, he never did. Truthfully, I didn’t have many male friends because I didn’t have time to be dealing with hate or no nigga being thirsty in regards to what I had. Jealously was not just reserved for women.
    I half listened to Calhoun as he went on the subject of stuff I cared very little about. Finally I told him, “I’m going to sleep.”
    He looked at me like I was crazy. “Sleep? It’s Friday. What the fuck you going to sleep for?”
    When I didn’t answer, he said, “Come on.”
    I grabbed they keys and inserted it in the lock. “I don’t have your kind of fun. You, for some reason, keep walking around acting like they can’t lock your black ass up again.”
    He waved me off. “Man, you sound like my pops. I don’t need to hear this shit.”
    â€œWell, you should listen to it.” I pushed open my door.
    â€œMan, I just wanna go ride, get some pussy.”
    â€œI’m good on that.” I walked inside while Calhoun followed after me.

Chapter 3
    I turned around just in time to see Calhoun shake his head at me. “You still stuck on Toi. I don’t blame you, though. That bitch got a—”
    I grabbed Calhoun by his neck. “Don’t use that language in my house. You know my mom lives here and don’t call my girl out her name. You gonna make me fuck you up,” I whispered.
    He pulled away from me. “Sorry, man. But you know a nigga saw her first.”
    I ignored him on that shit.
    I dropped my stuff on my leather sectional. “Ma, you home?” The smell of cooked food wafting into the living room made my stomach grumble. I eyed a sexy painting of Toi on my wall. She was completely nude with a while silk sheath covering her private parts. The only other things that were on my walls was a picture of my mother I had blown up, pictures of Toi. There was also an painting I bought years ago with an African woman holding a basket of tomatoes in one hand and the hand of her son in the other.
    â€œI’m in the kitchen, Chance.”
    I walked to the kitchen to see what my mama was cooking. She was mixing a pot on the stove.
    â€œHey boys,” she said to us. “Chance, I made some pork chops, rice, gravy, and some cabbage with hot water cornbread. Y’all want me to fix you two a plate?”
    My mama had me at the age of twenty. She was now forty-two and could easily pass for someone