Page 68 of Stay Dangerous

My head jerked, but I tucked all my big feelings away, especially when I saw PC and Sheisty pull into the now opened parking lot.

“Stay dangerous, Fredo. I love both of y’all, separately and together.”

He smirked as I hugged him. “Don’t get all sentimental, Ice Princess.”

I was still laughing when I got out of the car and walked up to the tall East Kenton boys.

PC had on another wife beater, with black Ed Hardy shorts. Sheisty was shirtless, tattoos and abs on display, his cut True Religion shorts hanging off his ass in a way only a Kenton nigga could wear them.

His long hair was braided into two cornrows, going down the perimeter of his head. Between the scowl on his face and the crazy ass tribal tattoo swirling over his chin, he looked every bit as insane as the videos of him fighting at Grimey’s shows suggested.

“And she early. Told y’all. I know talent, cuz!” Trippy was entirely too loud for the morning, cheesing hard, showingstraight, white teeth. His white tee stretched over his huge arms as he socked his palm.

Sheisty put up his phone and mugged Fredo’s car. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

PC just smirked as he opened the doors, and gestured for me to go in first. I looked back at Fredo, waved, and walked over the threshold.

That day, something that had been kindling inside of me broke free.

That day, Wynter Snow was born.

For five straight weeks that summer, I was in that studio in East Kenton with Trippy. Thirty-five straight days. PC came most days. Grimey and Sheisty came a handful of days, but mostly, it was me and Trippy, arranging samples, fine tuning lyrics for other local artists on their label, and even recording part of an interlude for the Native Sons’ next album.

Trippy was a musical genius. I mean, I knew it, but seeing it up close. Watching him utilize his ear for music, especially at a time where West Coast rap was gaining popularity nationwide again, was crazy. He broke down step by step how to make a song, things normal people didn’t even think about. How one sound can get lost in a melody, while another can make or break the entire sound.

It was magical.

Which was why one morning, in the middle of August, I sat in an idling car with Rico, Sean, and Shad, at five minutes to eight.

“Rico, I said I was sorry for wearing your Air Maxes to school. You ain’t gotta bring me out here to kill me, man,” Sean muttered, looking around the empty street.

“And you didn’t have to bring me as a witness. I go back to my Nana’s house at the end of the week,” Shad added. Both of their voices were wonky from puberty, which made them sound even more funny.

“Relax. I brought you guys here. Come on.” We took off our seatbelts and I ushered them inside, and all the way down to the last room.

“Bro,” Sean rushed out, grabbing Shad’s shirt when I pushed them inside.

Grimey grinned. “Wyn been gassing y’all lil’ niggas up. She said y’all the next Native Sons.”

“Hell yeah! My brodie got his laptop too!” Sean gassed, dragging Shad to the couch. Shad’s jaw was still dropped, as he gawked at Trippy.

“I’ll be right back.” I ran out of the building, straight into Rico’s car, and kissed him all over his face.

“Thank you for bringing them.”

He smirked before kissing me back. “You know I got you. Fred gon’ get y’all at five, but I’ll be to you around nine-thirty.”

I grinned, throwing my arms around him. “You staying the night?” I whispered.

“The whole weekend. Turkey said Autumn was going with them niggas to his granddad’s cabin since your parents gone.”

I grinned, butterflies erupting in my tummy. We texted, and even video called, but I hadn’t spent that much time with him in a while, and I was almost ready for the day to be over.

“I can’t wait.”

Rico winked, before he smoothed his face and looked behind me. His jaw ticked, and his eyes went flat.

“I guess you’re needed.”