Page 45 of Body Language
I winked and tapped my lips, mouthing,Keep it quiet.
She tucked it fast, and just as Niv turned, I stepped back like nothing happened.
“If she does anything else, call me, Zejah!” Niv called over her shoulder.
“I will!” the girl said quickly, nodding.
The second her ass hit the passenger seat and I pulled off, I knew it was coming.
“You got me fucked up, Kendrix. Don’t ever think you can pull some shit like that again! I don’t need your charity, I don’t need your rescues. You don’t know my mama like that.”
I kept my eyes on the road, letting her vent.
“You ain’t slick. That whole smooth, calm, unbothered shit might work on them other hoes, but not me. You think just because you fine and drive with one hand I’m supposed to shut up and let you do whatever? Nah. Your ass is good as blocked after tonight. Don’t even pray for me, because I’ll block God from telling me you prayed!”
“You done?” I asked, real calm.
She whipped her head toward me so fast. “Am I done?! Boy, if you don’t—”
And just like that, she was right back at it. Going the hell off.
I let her ride for a minute, then I cut in with a grin. “You gone need throat lozenges after all that yelling, Pretty. Want me to stop at Walgreens?”
She sucked her teeth and turned toward the window.
I let the silence sit in the truck for a bit before I said, “I gave your mama some dirt.”
“Dirt?! The fuck you mean, dirt? You tryna kill my mama?!”
“No, Pretty. Not dirt dirt. It’s the worst weed known to man. People would rather stay sober than smoke that shit.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You lying.”
“Nah,” I said, chuckling. “She gone smoke it, get a headache, probably be throwing up. Might even catch the shits if she overdo it. That kinda smoke make you reconsider life choices real quick. After that, she ain’t gone want to touch nothing.”
Her mouth dropped open before she burst out laughing. “I know the fuck you didn’t!”
“Shit, I did.” I grinned, proud of myself. “Call it tough love with a side of quality control.”
“Good. She need the shits, but you’re still blocked.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I smirked. “We both know you lying.”
“Yeah, whatever,” she said, snatching my phone and typing her address into the GPS.
We rode in silence for a minute. I glanced over and she was staring out the window.
I cleared my throat. “Pretty…”
She hummed without looking at me.
“How long your mom been on it?”
“Since I was about twelve” she said softly.
“Damn.”
“She used to be… different,” she said, voice lower now, like she was scared to say it out loud. “Braided my hair every morning. Showed up to school activities. Cooked dinner. Then one day, it was like somebody unplugged her. And she never came back the same.”
