Page 11 of Stay Dangerous

Hours later, we both smelled like Marcel curling irons and hairspray. Even with Auty’s ends trimmed, her hair flowed past her shoulders. Frankie gassed as both up, taking pictures of uswith her polaroid camera, and Auty’s eyes shined when Pops told her how beautiful she looked.

She even held hands with me the whole way home. I was on cloud nine. We’d never been the type of twins to dress alike, but having identical hairstyles for once, I saw the appeal.

She was my wombmate. We were designed to be best friends. And for once, it seemed like we were on our way to being that.

The stank smell of cigarettes greeted us when we went inside our house. I fanned my face, hating the smell. A cursory glance behind me made me stop short.

Auty looked terrified.

“The fuck you been, Wynter?!”

I turned forward, and Mom was on the couch, staring daggers at Auty, though she was speaking to me.

I shrugged, reaching back to grab Auty’s hand again. “We went to get our hair done for spring pictures.”

“Do you like it, Mommy?” Auty asked.

Mom’s eyes narrowed, her lip curling as she regarded her. Then, like always, she shifted her gaze to me, her scowl transforming into a brilliant smile.

“You’re so beautiful, Wynter. The spitting image of Summer.”

Auty snatched her hand out of mine and ran out of the house.

“Mom,” I hissed. But she just waved me off.

“Fuck her. You should beat her ass for even getting the same hairstyle as you. Come, let me look at you.”

I blew out breath before rounding the couch to stand in front of her. She blew cigarette smoke away from my face as she ran her fingers through my curls.

“That he-she sure can do some hair,” she remarked.

“Mom,” I hissed again. “Stop being so mean. And stop being so mean to Auty too–”

My head snapped to the side as pain bloomed on my cheek.

“Let me tell you something, little girl. I’m yamother. And I’m the only muthafucka around here that has your back. Don’t get shit twisted. You think I’m so mean, but one day you gon’ see them bitches you got such a weakness for will do ya ass in the first chance they get. Just watch.”

Her eyes were wild and bloodshot, but the truth shone in them. She really believed that.

I shuffled away from her, walking out of the front door to go to Pops’ house, where I knew Auty ran off to.

The twins, Rain and Rian, walked out as I was walking up.

“Cute hair, girl! Next time, you coming with us,” Rian called out. I threw a quick smile and refrained from rolling my eyes. Rain and Rian were always up in a nigga’s face, and there was always a disgruntled girlfriend riding down the block looking for them.

I entered the house and made a beeline straight for the kitchen, where I knew Pops would be.

He sighed, and nodded his head toward the room he shared with Turkey.

I gulped. It was the weekend, which meant there was a chance that Turkey’s best friend from the projects was there.

Sure enough, when I walked into the bedroom, there he was, sitting on the floor against one of the twin beds. He had a cut below one of his haunting gray eyes that stood out against his peanut butter skin.

Casey would have been the cutest boy I knew, if he wasn’t so… deep. That’s the only way I could describe him. Deep; bottomless really.

The times we’d all hang out, he’d join in on the jokes. Trash-talked Turkey when they played videogames. He even told us ghost stories one night when we were camping.

But then, there were times he’d be like this. Staring off into nothing. Random cuts and bruises on his face, and hands. He’dretreat into himself more than I ever could. And one time, when I saw him at the mall with some older boys, I swear he had a gun tucked in his jacket pocket.