Chapter 24

The train in front of us honks its horn loud enough to blow both Caesar and I's eardrums.

"Damn, it really gotta be that loud?" I ask, disgruntled.

"Something told me to take the the other way. I was tryna get there quicker," Caesar says.

I turn to look at him. It's the second time he's mentioned being in a rush and I'm as confused as I was in the club.

"You got somewhere to be?" I ask.

Caesar shakes his head, clearly frustrated. The lines between his eyebrow wrinkle as his eyebrows furrow. I can't read his mind but his face says enough. He's clearly conflicted about something.

I have the urge to reach out and rub the stress out of the back of his neck but I don't. I don't know where Caesar and I stand so it's easier to let him take the lead. The PTSD of watching him pull away or physically reject me flashes in my mind like the caution sign in front of us. It's taken us a while to even tiptoe towards the bond we used to have. The last thing I want to do is step too quickly and have it all backfire in my face.

Instead, I shift in my seat and kick my shoes off. It's clear we're gonna be sitting here for awhile so I get comfortable.

"What's on yo mind?" I ask.

Caesar shakes his head again. When he picks his head up, his eyes have a gleam of hope in them. Suddenly, he shoves his left arm into the door pocket by his legs. He comes up empty handed but more determined. He pulls the visor down then slams it back upright. My eyebrows rest near my baby hairs as I watch him move around the car. He lifts the arm rest open before digging around inside.

After a minute, his hand reappears with a grape flavored pack of cigars in hand.

"Really, nigga?"

Caesar ignores me as he reaches into the front of his jeans. My annoyed expression morphs into outright disgust while I watch him dig for treasure inside his underwear. He turns up a small plastic bag wrapped tightly with green marijuana nuggets inside.

As he unravels the knot around the bag, I roll my eyes.

"I don't understand why you hiding weed by your balls. It's not like it's crack, and it's not like you still a D-boy," I say.

Caesar finally undoes the knot and the car instantly fills with pungent smell.

"Old habits, I guess," He says.

I wrinkle my nose in distaste. I don't necessarily have a problem with smoking, fuck, even I've hit the blunt a few times. But, I hate the smell good weed produces. If I have to witness someone roll up before we smoke, then I'd gladly leave the rotation. The smell alone turns my stomach.

Caesar notices my face and chuckles.

"So you too good to smoke now?" He asks.

"I was never a fan, you know that."

"Yeah, but you looking at me like I pulled out a tray of coke or something. Let me find out Connor turned you out," He says.

I all but jump out of the seat. The scene from a few weeks ago shows behind my eyelids.

"Who told you?!" I ask.

Caesar laughs again, "Daz. You know them other niggas wouldn't tell me shit."

Duh, I scold myself. If I learned anything that night, it's that Tory and Munch would rather lose out on a check than to associate with Caesar. I didn't realize until this moment that the feelings may be reciprocated on Caesar's side too.

"Whatever, Caese. That's not even funny. That nigga was trippin' that night," I say.

"You know that nigga overdosed on that shit a few days ago, huh?" Caesar asks.

"Wait, what? He's dead?" I ask.

Caesar nods his head.

I'm stunned into silence while I watch him break the nugs apart with his fingers. The seal on the cigar is cracked open, the tobacco pushed out of the window and the cigar lays ready on Caesar's lap before I find the right words.

"Damn," is all I can muster.

Caesar doesn't respond. I watch him drop the pieces of weed into the gar and roll up.

"You don't think..."

Caesar stares at me, sealing the gar closed with his tongue.

"You don't think that shit I sold him made him OD right?" I ask.

Caesar removes the gar from his lips, carefully working his fingers over the parts he missed.

"Shit, I don't know, Red. That shit was pure as fuck so maybe. But it ain't like you forced the shit up his nose. From what I hear, it was the other way around," Caesar says.

"Yeah, I know. But like... damn."

Caesar finds a red Bic lighter in his cup holder. He sparks the blunt, takes a long drawl in and then hands it out to me.

"You sure you don't wanna hit this?" He asks.

After learning about Connor, my mind itches for the fog that'll settle over my mind with one pull of the blunt. But I don't want to feel hazy and light-hearted about the man's death, especially when it could have been my drugs that killed him.

I wave Caesar off. He takes another drag.

"Now that we on this topic about overdosing, I wanna make sure you understand something," Caesar says.

"Damn, Caese. You really think now is the time for a lesson?" I ask.

"Yeah 'cause soon as this train passes, you gonna' be walking into a trap surrounded by crackheads and junkies. I don't want you finding this shit out to interfere with how you let Simon deal to them."

I turn my body back into the appropriate seating position.

"Nobody gonna' stop Simon from drug dealing, Caese."

"Okay. I just don't want yo feelings of guilt or regret to get in the way of business."

I snap my head towards him. Anger seethes right under the surface of my skin. I can feel myself overreacting to this news but Caesar's nonchalance is sending me into overdrive. How does he expect me to take that I sold drugs to somebody that later on died from the shit? I mean, there's not much I could have done since it's obvious he had a problem before I came along. But I helped him get his fix. Ain't I'm to blame too?

"So you think I should feel guilty about what happened to Connor?" I ask.

"No. What some white boy do in his free time ain't got shit to do with you but I know you well enough to know it's probably gonna eat at you. I just don't want you taking it out on Simon's hustle," Caesar says.

"I'm not."

"Then what you so upset for?" He asks.

"Cause somebody just died Caesar and you acting like you don't care!"

"Cause I don't."

He turns his head towards me. His eyes are tinted pink and his pupils have dilated. There's no use in keeping this conversation going when he's too faded to care. Even if he wasn't high, I know Connor's death is just business to him.

Maybe it takes practice to come to terms with shit like this happening. But knowing that only makes me feel worse. I don't want to ever be comfortable killing someone without actually getting my hands dirty.

We sit in silence as the train travels past. Caesar ashes out the rest of his blunt, letting the high relax him. I'm about to ask what it was that made him want to smoke in the first place, but his deep voice is already filling the silence.

"Daz gon' stop by every week to drop off more product. While he's there, he gonna' pick up the money the trap made and bring it wherever you want him to," Caesar says.

"I can pick up the money so he doesn't have to do all that," I say.

Caesar sighs, "How you gon' do that? You gon' be hopping in and out of Lyfts with a bag of cash on you?"

I sigh. Yet, another reason to get my own wheels.

"Anyway, Daz gonna' drop it off to you. You can get his number out my phone."

Caesar leans his head against the headrest and closes his eyes. He blinks slowly, like his eyelids are too heavy to keep open. Eventually, they're down for the count.

I grab his phone out of the cup holder. When I swipe the screen, it's unlocked.

"Caese, why don't you have a passcode on yo phone?" I sigh.

"Cause ain't no nigga dumb enough to take it from me."

I roll my eyes as I find my way to his phone app. I figure his contacts would have a million and one names in it, but Daz must be in his recent calls. It appears that I'm right when I check his recent phone calls. It also seems like Daz ain't the only person he been in contact with.

Keyana's name is two names below Daz's. The call log shows that they were on the phone for five minutes and thirty-six seconds. Every last one of those minutes feels like forever in my brain when they're between Caesar and his ex.

At least I thought she was his ex. He hasn't mentioned her in the last few weeks, plus he's gotten more than friendly with me. I just figured that was the case. Or maybe I hoped it was.

I glance at Caese out of the corner of my eye and his eyes are still closed. Before I can talk myself out of it, I close out the phone app and slide over to his messages.

The text thread between him and Keyana is at the top of the list. Ours fall a few threads below. Since this isn't my first rodeo, I switch back to his contacts and copy and paste Daz's number. Then, I find my name in his messages and send it to myself. That way, if Caesar so happens to open his eye and see me in his messages, I'll have a reason why.

Once I scroll to the top of his messages, I realize Keyana was the last to send a message. The words jut out of the screen like a slap in the face.

Keyana: You make a decision yet?

"You found what you was looking for?"

The phone nearly falls out of my hand. I hesitantly look over at Caesar to see that his eyes are still closed. My breath steadies its pace as I close out his message app and lock the phone.

"Yeah. I had to uh, send his number to my phone."

Caesar grunts.

I stare out of the windshield as the train slowly comes to an end. I don't have to wake him since the train honks it horns loud enough to signal the end. Caesar's eyes are now red. He restarts the car, waiting for the railroad signs to lift so we can pass through.

You make a decision yet?

What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Is that what had him so stressed out? I mean, what decision could be that important?

I think back to the morning in Caesar's crib when I accidentally eavesdropped on their conversation. Caesar broke up with her and she was practically begging him to reconsider. I wish I would become that pathetic over a man.

Then again, I blew up my relationship with Reese for going behind his back to meet with Caesar. Two days later, I was right where Caesar wanted me: single and sprung over him. I let him feel like he had complete control over what happens with us. I'm too complacent to ask for more. I watched him love Keyana with no regard for my feelings and now the decision he has to make may be between the two of us.

Why did I give him that much power? If I'm not as stupid as Keyana is than I'm probably more.

...

After slamming the door on Caesar's car hard enough to make the window shake, I climb the rinky-dink staircase to the trap house. There's a young boy sitting on the porch railing who looks my age, staring me down.

He ashes out the blunt on the railing behind him.

"Who you here for, love?" He asks.

"The nigga with my whole face. Who else?" I ask.

He looks at me from my head to my toe. After deciding I wasn't worth the comeback hanging off his lips, he turns his head to the screen door.

"Aye, Simon! Yo people outchere bruh," He says.

A minute later, Simon opens the door with a white Tee, baggy blue jeans and red Chuck Taylor's on. His hair is free of its ponytail. His hair pushes out around him like a lion and it's mane.

A smile works to dismantle the permanent mug on his face. He walks towards me and grabs me into a hug.

"Wassup, twin? How'd you get here?" He asks.

"Caesar brought me. He also told me you think you ready sell," I say.

"I'm the one who told Caesar that," The boy on the railing says behind us.

I turn my attention to him.

"Caesar told me to watch him. When I thought he was ready I was 'posed to give him a call. I ain't know he was gon' call you," He says.

I jerk my head back, "I'm the one who pays you so you should be glad he passed the message along. If I wasn't here right now you'd still be wondering when Si was gonna start hustling so you can get paid."

The boy chuckles, "My bad bro. I ain't mean nothing by it. I just didn't know women work in this line of business is all."

"Now you know," I say.

I follow Simon inside the trap. When we're far away from the screen door, I pull him aside.

"What was his problem?" I ask.

"Who, Calvin? It ain't bout nothing. I think he just ready to get paid. All of us is," Simon says.

"Who's all here?" I ask.

Simon starts to navigate his way past the girls at the table cooking down the cocaine to the boys posted up in the kitchen. There's three of them, huddled into a cirlce. All look about our age, just like Calvin outside. Different types of guns line the kitchen table set off to the side. I also notice a gun on the waist of all the boys.

It takes some hard looking before I recognize the imprint of a gun's handle poking out the back of Simon's shirt too.

"That's Curry up there," Simon says, pointing to a light-skinned boy sitting on the counter.

"I used to play ball before I dropped out. You know how niggas is," He says.

I nod my head at him. Simon points to a brown-skinned boy standing closest to the refrigerator.

"That's Neco," He says.

The last boy steps up before Si has a chance to introduce him,"and I'm Maj."

"Y'all this my sister Candyce. Candyce, these the niggas who been teaching me my way around," Simon introduces.

"So you who we been waiting for?" Curry asks.

"That depends. You think he ready?" I ask.

Curry nods his head, "Nigga got heart."

Maj smacks his teeth, "Bitch you just tryna get paid."

Curry shrugs his shoulders before looking back at me.

"Shit, that too."

The room fills with laughter. Simon takes the opportunity to pull me out of the room by my elbow.

"Why you gotta do shit like that, Candyce?" He asks.

I try to search his face for an answer but all I'm met with it frustration.

"What did I do?" I ask.

"You come in here asking other people if I got what it takes. I'm standing right here. Ask me."

I sigh, "Simon, I know how eager you is to start selling so I'd rather ask the people put in charge to watch you rather than asking you. I already know what your answer gonna be."

"And you didn't think their answers was gonna be the same? Bad enough Caesar assigning people to me like I don't know what I'm doing but now you come here undermining me too."

"Alright, Simon, it's not even all you making it out to be. Selling weed and crack is two different things. We just wanted to make sure you knew what you was getting yourself into."

"Candyce, if you wanna' see if I can do it then let me do it. You can take they word all day long but you and I both know you ain't gon believe until you see it for yourself."

Simon and I stare each other down before I throw my hands up in defeat. He stalks past me to the table where the girls are set up. He loads his pockets with tiny bags of crack. I'm a few steps behind as I follow him outside.

Curry, Neco and Maj follow behind me. I stand in the doorway, but they post up outside. In any other circumstances, they would look like a group of friends chilling after a day of school.

For awhile, nothing happens. The streets are full of kids riding on bikes and playing curbside ball. There are a few adults on their porches, most likely supervising their kids. Maj and his crew start to crack jokes while we wait. Simon leans against the banister with a straight face. Calvin sits beside him, now eating sunflower seeds.

Out of nowhere, Curry stops mid-joke.

"You got one, Twin," he mutters just loud enough for us to hear.

We subtly start to look around for the dope fiend. She comes into view a moment later.

Her hair is all over her head. She wears pink and white pajama bottoms with a black bubble jacket. Her feet slides in slippers. It's not until she approaches us that I see her slippers are actually tennis shoes that she can't fit. The heel of her foot juts out past the back of the shoe.

"Now what the fuck y'all looking at?" She asks.

Nobody says anything but I can feel the shift in energy. It's like everybody is waiting for Simon to take the lead. He jumps in without missing a beat.

"I don't know who you talking to but you looking at a friend if you want one."

"What type of friend yo young ass gon be to me?" She asks.

Simon's hand moves to his pocket. My view is shielded since I'm standing behind him. I don't see what he pulls out but I can take a guess at the way her eyes light up.

"I-I-I be right back. I gotta go get some money," She says.

"Don't come back with no fucking TVs or no shit like that. We want cash, bitch!" Curry screams as the lady runs across the street.

My stomach turns sour at him calling her out of her name unprovoked but I remember the warning Caesar gave me. Whatever reservations I have, I gotta keep them to myself. Although I am the boss, I'm still out of my comfort zone. I have no grounds to tell any of these boys how to do business and honestly, that includes Simon.

Another twenty minutes go by before the woman returns. Only this time, she brings friends.

A sea of black and brown faces flood towards the house. There's about fifteen of them altogether. The lady from before stops at the stairs. She starts itching with excitement, literally. Her hands can't keep still.

"I'm sorry about the party. It's just that we don't have nobody to help us around here. We gotta walk all the way to the projects to get what we want," She says.

"It's no problem. What's your name though?" Simon asks.

All of us look at Simon crazy.

The woman starts to smile as she moves from feet to feet.

"Neeta," She says.

"Do me a favor, Neeta?" Simon asks.

Neeta nods her head eagerly.

"Tell all yo friends to stop walking that far for a fix. I'm right here and we ain't going nowhere," Simon says.

The way he says it takes me aback. To say this is his first sale, his voice holds all the confidence in the world. Even Curry, Neco and Maj all straighten their backs. Calvin laughs a little as he spits out his seeds.

"Who should I say sent me?" Neeta asks.

"My name Twin. Now come here. Let me help you," Simon says.

Neeta all but runs up the steps as Simon exchanges a white bag for the green dollars. He slowly makes his way through the crowd but the line draws attention. Over the next hour, more people come and go. After fifty or so fiends are served, business stalls.