Promise Broken, page 8
“Me first,” Mouse interjected. “Y’all will never guess who I was with last night.” She paused for dramatic effect to make sure they were paying attention. “The boy Ab!” she announced.
Promise knew who Ab was. He was B-Stone’s right hand and a known shooter. Abdul was a bad dude and nothing good ever came to people who kept his company. “What were you doing with him?” she asked suspiciously.
“Changing our fortunes,” Mouse told her. “Ab offered us a job . . . well, offered me a job, but you know anything I get I’m gonna break bread with the crew.”
“Everybody knows what time it is with Ab. What are you going to do, sell drugs for him like the rest of his flunkies?” Keys asked sarcastically. He’d never really cared for Ab, but after the way he’d banished him the night before he really didn’t like him now.
“Nah, man. Ab ain’t trying to have me play the block. I’m just gonna be holding him down when he needs me to,” Mouse explained.
“That sounds really vague, Mouse. I know you ain’t about to let one of these halfwit-ass dope boys put you in a trick bag?” Keys capped.
“It ain’t no trick bag, square-ass nigga. It’s a business arrangement,” Mouse shot back.
“So, that’s where you got that bankroll?” Promise was putting it together.
“Yeah, it was kind of like an advance against my future earnings,” Mouse lied. She could never and would never confess to her friend what she had allowed herself to be subjected to for a hundred dollars. She was too embarrassed. It made her feel like a whore.
“That shit still sounds shady. I don’t like it,” Keys said.
“And I don’t like me and my sister having to eat sleep for dinner in apartments that we ain’t sure if we’ll be able to keep beyond a month or two,” Mouse shot back. “Keys, you might live in the same hood as us, but you got two parents who work and are gonna make sure y’all eat every night. I don’t expect you to understand because our problems ain’t the same.”
“Damn right they’re not.” Keys absently touched the spot where Deacon had hit him.
“So, now that you’ll be working with Ab, what about school?” Promise asked.
“Fuck do I need with school when I’m out here getting this money?” Mouse couldn’t see it.
“C’mon, Mouse. We’re damn near the finish line. We been studying hard, gettin’ our grades up this year. Graduation is just around the corner and you’re going to quit? What about your future?”
“I won’t have no future if I don’t survive my present. I wanna finish, Promise. That’s real, but with the way things are going for me at home I need this bread more than I need a diploma,” Mouse said honestly.
Promise wanted to argue with her, to drill her about all the uncertainties on the path that Mouse was about to follow, but she didn’t. Promise understood better than most how it felt to be trapped in a situation that didn’t hold any promises of getting better and wanting desperately to get out. Instead of being a dream killer she offered her best friend some words of encouragement. “Get your money, sis. Just promise me you’ll at least think about still trying to graduate.”
“You got that,” Mouse agreed, but they both knew the chances of her ever seeing the inside of a classroom again were slim to none. “But enough about the shit I got going on, what’s your big news?”
“Damn, with this bomb you just dropped I almost forgot. You’ll never guess who pushed up on me,” Promise dangled.
“Keys?” Mouse asked sarcastically.
“Be realistic, silly ass,” Promise said, unknowingly insulting Keys. She waited while Mouse racked her brain, and couldn’t seem to come up with an answer. When Promise couldn’t hold her secret any longer, she spilled the beans. “Asher!”
“Bitch, you lyin’!” Mouse squealed.
“I wish. Let me tell you how it went down.” Promise proceeded to tell Mouse about her chance encounter with her neighborhood crush. Even replaying the story her heart fluttered as if Asher had been standing right there.
“That’s crazy. What are the odds of us both plugging in with two of the hottest niggas on the block?” Mouse questioned.
“I wouldn’t say I’m plugged in like you, but he was definitely all up on me,” Promise corrected her.
“I’ll bet he was, with them thick-ass thighs.” Mouse pinched Promise’s leg playfully. Promise blushed and looked down at the grass. “Girl, when are you going to stop acting like you don’t know you fine as hell?”
“Cut it out, Mouse.” Promise’s face got even redder. She had never been comfortable receiving compliments. Probably because they came so few in between.
“I’m dead ass, P. If I had your hips and tits, I’d be off in all these niggas pockets!” Mouse declared.
Keys listened to the girls chattering back and forth. Mouse was about all the money she planned to make working with Ab and Promise about how fine Asher was. It made him sick to his stomach. The more he listened the more he drank, and slowly but surely the liquor was getting a grip on him. The reason Keys really didn’t like to drink was because alcoholism ran in his family. His dad had been drunk and so had his granddad. Besides that, Deacon was a hard drinker and Keys saw what liquor turned him into. The only time he touched the stuff was when he was trying to fit in or numb himself against pain, which is what he was feeling at that moment. Listening to Promise gush over Asher was working him into a fit of jealous anger. He tried to force his hostile feelings down, but the liquor wouldn’t let him. There was something about hearing Promise speak about another boy that pushed him to the edge.
“You broads done daydreaming?” Keys asked. His tone had taken on a bit of an edge.
“What the hell is your problem?” Mouse asked, not understanding Keys’s sudden change in mood.
“My problem is that I’m sitting here listening to two girls, who I considered to be smarter than most, fantasizing about guys who they got no shot of being with,” Keys said sadly.
“We’re just talking shit, Keys. Why don’t you lighten up?” Promise was tired of his negative attitude.
“I’ll lighten up when you stop acting like you don’t see what this is,” Keys shot back.
“What are you talking about?” Promise was confused. One minute they were all drinking and laughing together and now Keys was on some bullshit.
“I see you, all starry-eyed because Asher finally noticed you. I’ll bet you think he’s going to be your ghetto knight in shining armor, huh? Same as the other half dozen chicks he’s knocked off between here and Market Street. He’s only out for the pussy. Asher ain’t got no serious interests in you, Promise.”
The remark stung hard.
“Why? Because I’m not pretty enough?” Promise asked heatedly. Keys was speaking, but she could hear her aunt Dell’s voice in his words.
“Not pretty enough?” Keys chuckled. Not like a man who had just heard a joke, but someone who was trying to keep themselves from crying. “Promise, you’re the only one who can’t see yourself for who you are.” He felt his anger rising. His sober mind told him to stop before he went too far, but the vodka was in full control now. “You think Asher is out of your league, and he is. You’re special, but you don’t believe it, which makes you an easy mark for any greaseball spitting pretty words. Everybody knows that girls with low self-esteem make the easiest prey. And make no mistake, that’s all you’re fit to be to someone like Asher—prey!”
Keys’s berating was hitting Promise like a flurry of punches. Keys was one of the few people in the world that Promise trusted unconditionally. He was someone that she could talk to about anything, her hopes, her fears, her fuck ups . . . she could always turn to Keys when she needed to bend an ear and he never judged her. That was the Keys she had come to know and love. The evil drunk chewing her out was a total stranger. “Fuck you, Keys!” She threw her cup down and got up from the grass.
“Hold up, Promise. I’m a little faded so that might not have come out right.” Keys fumbled himself sober enough to realize that he had crossed a line. He reached for Promise’s hand to try and stop her from leaving so that he could try and form an apology, and the look she gave him nearly dropped Keys on the spot. Her amber eyes burned like wildfire. He took a cautious step back as if her gaze alone could set him ablaze. There was nothing more to be said.
Promise had managed to hold her cold grill while facing Keys, but the minute she stepped off the curb she could feel her foundation crack. Keys was one of her best friends in the world, someone she could trust with her deepest secrets and he never judged her for it. At least until then. She knew part of it was due to the liquor, but it didn’t excuse him. She could’ve taken criticisms from anybody, and had for most of her life, but coming from Keys it hurt differently.
When she stormed off, he turned to Mouse. Tears danced in the corners of his eyes. He couldn’t find the words to convey how sorry he was, but his face said what his lips hadn’t been able to. If he was looking to Mouse for sympathy, he would find none. All she had for him at the moment was contempt. It was the look you gave someone when they were dead to you. Dear God, what had he done?
PART II
BAD GIRLS
AIN’T NO GOOD . . .
AND GOOD GIRLS
AIN’T NO FUN
CHAPTER 9
Promise found herself struggling through her eighth-period math class. She was so tired that she could barely keep her eyes open. Several times she even found herself almost nodding off. This was all Mouse’s fault. The night before she had convinced Promise to roll with her to someone from the neighborhood’s baby shower. Promise couldn’t remember the girl’s name, but she remembered the open bar. It was her first time ever being somewhere where you could drink or eat what you want for free and she overindulged. Promise didn’t drink a lot, but when she did she fancied herself as a clear liquor drinker. At the baby shower, she had her first date with Hennessy and it hadn’t ended well. One of the few things that she could remember was Mouse making the cab driver pull over on 78-East so that she could throw up. She had brushed her teeth three times that morning and could still taste the Henny. She started to skip school that day to recover, but there was no way her aunt Dell was trying to hear that and Mouse was off somewhere with Ab, so she’d have nowhere to crash even if she did ditch school. “Fucking Mouse,” she grumbled, placing her head in her hands.
In the few weeks since Mouse had been working with Ab and his crew, things had started to change for the girls. Well, really for Mouse and by extension Promise. Mouse wasn’t yet a part of the in-crowd, but she was no longer an outcast either. She had earned the favor of B-Stone’s second in command, so she had grown in popularity. Girls who wouldn’t speak to her before were trying to get next to her in hopes that they too would come up on an opportunity. The newfound love wasn’t necessarily genuine, but Promise couldn’t front like it didn’t feel good to be kind of popular.
She had been a bit on the skeptical side about Mouse going to work with Ab. She knew what he did and what it would mean for Mouse to get tied up in that crew, but it ended up playing out just like Mouse said it would and Ab kept her off the frontlines. Most of the time Mouse was assigned to one of the apartments where they kept the drugs. It was her job to make sure nothing went missing and hit workers off with packs when they came for them. When she wasn’t distributing packs, she was riding around with Ab taking care of his business. She was like a secretary or gofer.
Little Mouse was making decent money with Ab. Sometimes she would even have a little extra that she shared with Promise. Promise really didn’t like to take money from Mouse, because she still had Junie to take care of. Mouse was always trying to force cash on her, and when she didn’t take it all Mouse would do was use it to buy something for her. Thanks to Mouse she was able to upgrade her wardrobe a bit, and stop recycling the same three pairs of jeans. When her aunt Dell saw her turning up with new things, she accused Promise of selling drugs and/or pussy. Neither one would fly in her house unless she was getting a taste. Promise had to start stashing the stuff at Mouse’s place to avoid arguing with her aunt. Mouse now had a lock on her door to keep her mother out of her room, so she no longer had to worry about things going missing.
Being on the block more with Mouse also meant that she got to see more of Asher, if that’s what you wanted to call it. When they would bump into each other on the strip, Asher would treat her the same as any of the other homegirls. The few times he would catch her alone, or with only Mouse around, he acted all interested again. It was like a game of hot and cold with him. Promise didn’t like it, but she understood. It wouldn’t look good on a guy with Asher’s standing to be overly familiar with Promise. People might get the wrong idea and start to talk. She was okay with the few stolen moments they got here and there.
Promise was in no way naive about the situation. Asher knew he had some dog in him, and that became more obvious to her with the more time she spent in their circle. The girls in the neighborhood fawned over him like he was an R&B singer and he soaked it up. Her English teacher, Ms. Woods, would’ve called him a narcissist. She wouldn’t have been wrong either. Asher was an attention whore, and there was no shortage of ladies willing to give it to him. Sometimes it would get under Promise’s skin when she’d see Asher flirt with other girls, but she had to remind herself that he wasn’t hers. Asher played it like he was for the streets, but he really belonged to another.
Ruby was the one girl who Promise always tried to avoid at all costs. When she came on the block, Promise would find an excuse to leave. Not that Ruby would even acknowledge her if she didn’t. There were a couple of times when they were in the same space, and Ruby would hardly give her a second look unless it was to confirm her identity. She was very particular about what class of girls she kept around, and Promise nor Mouse had made it there yet. Not that she wanted to anyhow. The less contact they had, the better as far as Promise was concerned.
See, for all the flirting Asher did in the hood, Promise and everyone else knew that Ruby had papers on that ass. She made that obvious whenever she showed up on the set, marking her territory with a hug, or unnecessarily long kiss. Asher always looked awkward when she did it, but Ruby didn’t give a shit. She was an aggressive broad and sometimes it was hard to tell who was really wearing the pants in the relationship. Promise got a kick out of this. It was good to know that Asher had a kink in his armor. Mouse had once asked her if she ever felt some type of way by entertaining Asher while already knowing that he was with Ruby? As far as Promise was concerned, she and Ruby weren’t friends and didn’t even really know each other so she owed her nothing. Since she had been hanging around a little more, her confidence seemed to be growing. At one time she wouldn’t even meet a girl like Ruby’s gaze, but now she was plotting on her man.
Promise was just slipping into another nod, when the bell signaling the end of class snapped her out of it. She couldn’t have been happier about her last class of the day being over. She couldn’t wait to go home and crash. It was a Friday so she planned to sleep in the next day.
“Miss Mohammed, a moment please?” Her math teacher, Mr. Sung, stopped her before she could slide out of class. Mr. Sung was a young Asian man who wore the same thing every day—a white shirt and khakis. Whether the clothes were recycled from day to day or he just owned a bunch of white shirts and khakis was anyone’s guess.
Promise rolled her eyes before turning to him. “Everything okay, Mr. Sung?”
“I was hoping you could tell me. How have things been going for you lately? You okay?” he asked in a concerned tone.
She shrugged. “Yeah, I’m good. Why?”
“Well, I’ve noticed that you have been a little off as of late . . . well, if I’m being honest, a few of your teachers have noticed it. Is something going on that we should know about?” Mr. Sung asked in a polite tone. He was one of those men whose voices always seemed to stay at one pitch: nice. Even when he was angry and had to get on the students sometimes, he was always respectful about it. He never pushed, which is what made him one of the easier teachers to talk to.
“Just going through some stuff at home. Nothing too major,” Promise assured him.
“I’ve met your aunt Adelle, so I can only imagine,” Mr. Sung joked. “How is that going for you, by the way? Did I hear something about the social worker having to come by?”
Mr. Sung was referring to the aftermath of the shoplifting incident. Since the store had contacted the school, somebody in the office decided to involve social services. It turned out to be a light situation that was able to be resolved with a home visit and Promise lying her ass off about how she was treated in her aunt Dell’s home. It never got beyond that, but Dell was through the roof about it. She went on for days about Promise putting white people in her business, and threatening to put her on the street if she caused any more trouble. Typical Dell shit.
“Aw, man. That wasn’t nothing but a misunderstanding. Nothing to worry over, Mr. Sung.” Promise dismissed it. “If that’s all, I need to be going so I can catch the bus.” She tried to leave, but he wasn’t done.
“How are you coming along with those college applications?”
“Um . . . fine, I guess. I’ll get around to them,” Promise told him.
“Promise, it’s important that you get that stuff done on time. Think about it, thousands of kids from around the country, and even in some cases abroad, will be applying to the same schools that you will be, but they’ll only have room for a few. It’ll be first come first serve, and you want to be in that initial number. Have you even filled out your FAFSA yet?”
