Page 45 of Stay Dangerous

“You dumbass! You got Nan hyperventilating and shit! Fuck you!”

Fredo had never said some shit like that to me. Ever. Not even when we called ourselves disagreeing. He immediately went over the line, fuck crossing. That nigga jumped, feet first.

“No, nigga. Fuckyou!” I roared, socking him back.

Seeing Fredo fight was one thing. Fighting him was truly another.

That nigga was giving it to me, I couldn’t lie. But I was angry, and hurt, and embarrassed, and he looked just like Pooh, like I did, so I just imagined he was Pooh.

Ty-Ty grabbed me up, but I twisted out of his grip and pushed Fredo as hard as I could.

But remember, I was high as giraffe ass. And me and Peanut took a fifth of Hennessy to the head that morning. So I had tunnel vision.

I didn’t see Ma’s casket. I damn near forgot we were in the church.

Until Fredo fell into it. One of the legs on the stand snapped, and Fredo, the casket, and Ma herself came tumbling down onto the ground.

“Dios mio!RICKY!” Nan shouted. I looked over just in time to see her faint into Rone’s arms.

Fredo shot up, his eyes in a panic before focusing back on me.

“I’ma kill you!” he screeched, dodging our friends before tackling me to the ground.

It took Ty-Ty, Turk, Set, and Reem to get him off me. Peanut got me off the floor and we dipped back to the Birch.

“Yo ass… fuckin’ tripping,” he slurred as we sat on the bleachers. We drank almost another fifth of cognac, still in our Sunday’s best, as we watched over our domain. It was a ghost town, but the Birch could never feel dead. If we had looked hard enough, we could have found a story hidden in the bushes, or in one of the windows looking down at us.

“Like, you fucked up every muthafucka you related to. Pooh; Fredo; Nan; shit, even Auntie Yani,” he sputtered, before taking the bottle to the head.

“It’s yo fuckin’ fault. I shoulda never smoked with yo ass. Shit had me feeling like Incredible Hulk.”

We both cackled at the absurdity of it all, before I snatched the bottle from him and took a swig.

“They’ll be aight. Pooh know he wrong for that shit. Emotions high and shit right now. It’ll be fine.”

“Nah,” I said, glaring at the netless basketball hoop in front of us. “It’s forever fuck that nigga, on my soul. I called him thatnight, hella times, and he ain’t answer. As far as I’m concerned, he killed my mama.”

“Well damn. I guess it’s fuck that nigga then. I’m on whatever you on.”

We dapped each other up, making a B with our hands; the Birch handshake we’re all taught before we’re taught to walk.

“You know, you was the last one of us with a mama–you and Fredo. Now, none of us have mamas. Shit sad as fuck, on Baby. Set’s lil’ brother Shad still got one, but it’s fuck that bitch, so she don’t count.”

I snorted, thinking about the lil’ nigga with cockroaches coming out of his head that started coming around on the weekends. My neighbor Sean reenacted how he knocked Remy and Kilo clean out on the courts, and me and Fredo were pissed we missed it.

Shit was so simple just a couple weeks ago.

“Well, Reem still got a mama, even though she don’t let him come outside.”

“The point I was tryna make, as yo Ace, is that you not alone, brodie. I know you got ya twin and shit, and he prolly will forgive you for tagging his ass and knocking out y’alls Moms in the afterlife, but even if he don’t, you not alone. I got you since the sandbox, and I’m not letting up… so you better forgive me if I kill this bitch.”

My smile melted off my face as I moved my hands to see Kisha walking up to us.

“Hey, baby. You good?” she asked, rubbing the tips of her nails on my cheek.

“Ay,” Peanut barked, making her flinch. “How long you been fuckin’ my Ace?”

She glanced at the bottle he held by the neck, before jutting her chin up in the air. “Over a year.”