Page 110 of Big Booty

When “Lovesong” starts playin’, I sway to the music. “Siiiing, goddammit! Do me right, Adele!” The song is calmin’. I smoke down my blunt, then spark another. My cell rings. It’s Day’Asia again. And

she gets igged, again.

Four glasses of wine and two blunts, later, I finally decide to listen to my messages.

“Ma, can I please come home, pllllllllllease . . . ” she’s whisperin’ into the phone.

“They crazy here. Mister Knutz done beat up Aunt Lina last night and she been locked in her room, cryin’. I wanna come home, ma.” I delete. The next message starts playin’.

“Mommy, puhhhhllleeeeeze call me when you get this message. Puhhhhhllllleeze. I’m sorry for what I did. Puhhhhlllllleeeeeze call me back.”

I roll my eyes, pressin’ the delete prompt. Five minutes later, my cell rings again. This time it’s Darius. “Hey?”

“Yo, Ma, you talk to Asia?”

“No, I haven’t; why?”

“Yo, you need to get her outta that spot over there wit’ Miss Lina and ’em. They over there wildin’ hard; for real.”

“Not my problem,” I say, pourin’ myself another drink.

He sighs heavily. I imagine him frownin’ his face, or rollin’ his goddamn eyes in his head. “Yo, Ma. Real shit, you effen buggin’. How you sound talkin’ ’bout that’s not ya problem? Asia is ya problem. And she’s your responsibility. She ain’t got no business bein’ over there in da projects when she gotta home right there with you.”

“No, she had a home. Now she’s on her own. I’m not havin’ no grown-ass disrespectful bitch layin’ up in here tryna do whatever the fuck they want. I’m not playin’ them kinda games. So if you so concerned about where she’s at, then you go get her and let her stay with you. Like I told them DYFS bitches, she ain’t comin’ back up in here. Now don’t call me no more with this shit.”

“Yo, you buggin’. I’ll holla at you later.”

“Then holla.” I disconnect.

An hour later, Dickalina is callin’ me. I sigh. Now what the fuck she want? If she’s callin’ here ’bout Day’Asia’s ass I’ma scream on her.

“C-C-Casssssss,” she wails in my ear. “H-h-he’s goooone.” She’s boo-hooin’ it up all up in my eardrum.

I frown. “Lina, calm down. Who is you talkin’ about?”

“Knutz . . . he . . . left me,” she coughs and says between sniffles.

Good riddance, coon-bitch! I decide to keep that to myself. Ain’t no sense in tryna kick a bruised ho who’s already down. “Well, what happened? Why’d he leave?”

“H-h-he said . . . he was sick of me bein’ up in . . . other niggahs’ faces and runnin’ da streets wit’ you. Aaaaaaaahbwwwwwaaaaah,” she screams as if someone’s stabbin’ her with a burnin’ blade. “My man left me ’cause he said I don’t have his back when you . . . talk . . . shit. Aaaaaaaaahbwwwwwwaaaah. You chased . . . my . . . man away . . . Bitch, whhhhyyyyy you ain’t . . . just . . . keep ya mutha . . . fuckin’ . . . mouth shut?”

I frown. Fuck sympathy, not that I had any for the ho. “Bitch, I don’t ’preciate you callin’ here and tryna do me over some bum-ass niggah. Bitch, boom!”

“But he was . . . my . . . bum-ass niggah. Not yours. You hatin’ bitch!”

“Oh, puhhleeeze. Bitch, boom! Boom! Don’t fuckin’ try ’n do me with that shit. His coon-ass left you ’cause he got some other dumb bitch he fuckin’. And it’s probably the young ho I saw him all grins ’n giggles with at the club . . . ”

“When? When you seent my man wit’ some other bitch, Cass? And you ain’t call or send me a text so I could run up on them? Bitch, we ’posed to be girls.”

“Trick, we are friends. And the last time I told you I saw him with some bitch you cussed me out and we got’ta fist fightin’. You almost let that niggah ruin our friendship, ho. So don’t do me, bitch.”

“Ya ass is real goddamn dizzy when it comes to believin’ anything anyone tells you about that niggah Knutz. He’s dirty, boo. But you too stuck on stupid to wanna hear it or see it, so why am I gonna waste my time, tellin’ you shit knowin’ I’ma have’ta bust you upside ya knotty head if you come at me tryna do me.”

“I love . . . ”—hiccup—“him. He’s the”—hiccup—“only man that . . . I ever . . . let fuck me . . . in the assssssss. Oh, whyyyyy he do me like this? I ain’t never lick a man in his asshole and I did h-h-his . . . ”

I cover my mouth, feelin’ myself throwin’ up in the back of my throat. Oh, this bitch is givin’ out too much. She done forgot she told me how he don’t wipe his ass all the way clean. “Oh sweet Gawd, Lina! What the fuck?! I ain’t need to know ’bout you bein’ a shit licker. You’se a nasty bitch, boo. And now the niggah done dipped on you for some other bitch. Mmmph.”

“When I find out who that bitch is, I’ma fuck her up good.”

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