Feenin' by Sereniti Hall

Author:Sereniti Hall [Hall, Sereniti]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Urban, Gay, General, Romance, African American, Fiction
ISBN: 9780982841440
Google: tpH7AwAAQBAJ
Amazon: 0982841442
Publisher: Wahida Clark Presents Publishing
Published: 2010-12-17T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

I was reluctant to call Roscoe, but I had no choice. Unless I wanted to turn back to the streets and I didn’t want that. It was time for a change. Luckily, he answered on the first ring. “Hey, boo. I was waiting for your call,” He rushed from his lips.

“Why didn't you call me?” I asked.

“I didn't want to impose. I wanted to give you a little space,” he said, trying to be a smooth talker. “How did you know it was me when you answered the phone?” I inquired.

“Good question. When I left you the other night this song with Rihanna and NeYo came on called “You Make Me Better,” and I decided to use it as my ring tone when you called.” He was so full of shit, but I loved it.

“Why that song?” I wanted to be the one to make him better, I was catching strong feelings.

“‘Cause you make me better, girl.”

“That's sweet, but you don't have to sell me no dreams.” I was hoping it wasn’t a dream, but I knew if he found out I was an ex junky, he’d be out for blood.

“I'm not trying to sell you no dreams, ma,” he said, being charming. Hating to spring the sudden news on him, I still had to do it. Before I got it out Roscoe said, “I have something to tell you, or shall I say show you? Can you get away right now? Come meet me.” Agreeing quickly to his request, I had only six dollars to my name. It's always something about me and six dollars. I was just hoping those six dollars were gonna get me to my destination. I hung up with Roscoe and called a cab to pick me up. I thought Frenchy would’ve come out to check on me, but she never did. I think I looked back at her apartment a hundred times.

I’ll be damned, I ran out of cash two blocks from Valley Park Apartments. Coming up on the six-dollar mark, I had the cabbie to let me out so I could walk the rest of the way, hoping to get there before Roscoe saw me.

I was barefoot and holding my shoes in my hand. The heels were killing my feet and it was hotter than a muthafucka out there that day. By the hair on my chinny chin chin, I beat him there.

Picking me up, he gave me the strangest look. At first, I thought he recognized me. Roscoe looked again and with an attitude said, “Why the fuck do you still have on the same clothes?” I looked at him and shrugged my shoulders.

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