CHAPTER 2
Apple strutted across the busy Harlem street and walked toward the bodega where Cross and his friends were hanging out. The sun was shining brightly like a jewel in the sky, and the warm weather made it feel more like summer than spring. Apple’s heart pumped rapidly as she came closer to Cross. Just being a few feet from him got her excited and nervous. She tried not to look directly at him while she walked his way, but she couldn’t help stealing a glance from the corner of her eyes.
They all were gambling, playing dice on the side of the bodega. Cross clutched a knot of money in his hand and was talking shit. He was hunched over, shaking the dice in his grip and swiftly letting them roll to the ground with the anticipation of winning the cash displayed in front of him—$500.
Soon, there was yelling and excitement. Having won the pot, Cross rose up and shouted, “Yeah, muthafuckas! Give me my fuckin’ money. Ya’ll niggas don’t fuckin’ know? I’m Vegas out this bitch, sendin’ ya’ll niggas home broke wit’ ya pockets turned inside out.”
Apple smiled, hearing him rant in excitement. The men were so into their dice game, and Cross was so busy collecting his winnings, they didn’t notice her pass and enter the store. Apple wished she could share in Cross’s winning moment.
However, she came back to her senses, went up to the bodega owner, and said, “Fernando, let me get a pack of Newports.”
“Twelve dollars.”
“Damn, Fernando! Why you keep raising the price and shit?” Apple complained.
“You and your mother stop smoking, then it be cheaper,” Fernando joked.
“Oh, so I see you got jokes, huh? Shit, I’ma stop, but f-uck it. It’s my mother’s money anyway.”
Fernando passed her the pack, but Apple wanted to get a few other things from the store while she had the chance. She knew she needed some tampons because her “friend” was almost coming, and she didn’t want to get caught out there. She hated sharing with her sister because Kola always wanted to bitch about everything. Apple sighed, debating whether she should get the pack of tampons from Rite Aid or something to eat, since she was starving. She knew there wasn’t anything to eat at the apartment, and she felt the urge for one of Fernando’s turkey and cheese hero with mustard, mayo, onions, and lettuce.
“Fuck it. Fernando, make me a turkey and cheese. You know how I like it,” Apple said.
Fernando smiled. “I got you.”
Apple felt her stomach growling, and she hated walking around on an empty stomach. If her friend came, she would beef with Kola or Nichols about borrowing one of their tampons, but right then, she was hungry.
She waited around the front entrance, reading the Daily News and trying to pass time. Two of Cross’s goons walked into the store, and they were loud. Apple glanced at them. They were cute, but none of them could hold her interest like Cross did.
“Damn, ma, what you gettin’ from here? I got you,” one of them offered.
Apple smiled. “I’m a’ight.”
“C’mon, ma, my treat. You lookin’ too sexy to come out ya pockets,” he continued. “Yo, Fernando, what she gettin’? I got her.” The man placed a fifty on the countertop.
Apple knew Edge was Cross’s right-hand man. He was hot-tempered and volatile, while Cross was calm and a calculated hustler. But they were close like brothers.
“Really, you ain’t gotta pay. I got my own,” Apple lied.
“Fo’ real, ma? A’ight, I hear that shit, but I’ma still be nice and treat you, and next time, you got me. A’ight.”
“Maybe.”
Edge locked eyes with her. Apple knew he was flirting, and she knew he probably wanted much more from her than a conversation and a smile. In fact, she knew he wanted to hit it. Every nigga wanted to f-uck sex her and her sisters, but Apple didn’t want her name to carry around the hood recklessly and have word get back to Cross that she was a ho. So, she rarely fucked with dudes from around her way because she knew niggas talked more than bitches—especially when it came to pu-ssy.
“Yo, Edge, you riding out to Summer Jam wit’ us, right?” the second man asked. “Cross said he was goin’ to roll wit’ us.”
Apple’s ears perked up when she heard Cross would be at Summer Jam too. She started to listen more closely to their conversation. She heard the man tell Edge that they were leaving out in three trucks to show a presence, and that they knew a few dudes backstage and would have VIP access.
Apple wished she could ride with them. She wanted to profile and be up close with the celebrities. But she, Ayesha, and Mesha were taking public transportation to the New Jersey arena, and getting there from Harlem would take them a year and a day. Apple was excited about the concert, but she dreaded the bus and train ride there. Also, since their tickets were almost nosebleed seats, she knew that Drake, Trey Songz, and the others would look like ants because they would be seated the farthest away. She wanted to witness the sweat pour off of Trey Songz’s abs and see Drake up close at his finest.
After Edge paid for her sandwich, he tried to get her number. Apple was grateful, but turned him down gently.
“I’m seventeen,” she stated.
“And ya eighteen when?”
“In two months.”
“A’ight, I’ma take that rain check until your eighteenth birthday then treat you to somethin’ nice.”
Apple smiled. She wished it was Cross coming at her the way Edge was. She exited the bodega and noticed that her boo, Cross, was gone. She wanted to look at him again, but she knew he was a busy man and didn’t keep too long at one location. She walked back to her building with her sandwich, cigarettes, and the twenty dollars her mother had given her.
Becoming even more excited about Summer Jam, Apple knew she needed to look spectacular that night because it was going to be a star-packed event. And with all the ballers and shot-callers that would be in Giants Stadium, she wanted her outfit to be tight and sexy enough to stop traffic.
Apple walked into the lobby as her sister Kola was exiting the elevator. Kola was clad in a pair of tight white coochie-cutting cotton shorts, a striped metallic halter top, and stiletto heels with the red bottoms. She sported expensive gold bangles and hoop earrings, with her long black hair styled into a ponytail. She looked like she was about to work a corner. Apple looked at her sister, and their eyes met. They thought the same thing. Aside from the difference in style and mannerism, they were identical—from head to toe.
“Where you goin’?” Apple asked.
“Out.”
“Like that?”
“And? I got places to be,” Kola replied with attitude.
Apple sucked her teeth. “Whatever.”
“You went to the store for Mommy?” Kola asked.
“Yeah.”
“Let me get a cigarette,” Kola said.
“No. Go buy your own. Besides, you know how Mommy gets when she got cigarettes missing.”
“It ain’t like you didn’t already take one, Apple. Shit, I’m just asking for only one. I need a smoke right now. You know she stressin’ a bitch,” Kola told her.
Apple hesitated and then passed Kola the pack of cigarettes, knowing Denise was going to rage when she found out cigarettes were missing from her pack before she could even smoke one. But Apple was used to her mother’s loud and abusive ways, which was a normal thing in her household.
Kola took two from the pack and thanked Apple. “I heard you goin’ to Summer Jam with Ayesha and Mesha. Y’all got an extra ticket?”
“No,” Apple replied shortly.
“Damn! Why you gotta say it like that?” Kola asked. “Y’all probably ain’t got good seats anyway.”
“Stop hatin’, Kola.”
“I’m not. I’m just sayin . . . I probably can do better.”
Apple stared at her sister with disgust and wanted to smack her. Kola was selfish and always thought she was the better twin, always trying to outdo everybody.
Keeping her cool, Apple replied, “Then do better and stay out my shit.”
“Whateva, Apple. I’m out. Have fun.” Kola strutted out the lobby, switching her petite backside and catching eyes from the young boys around.
Apple watched her sister get into a burgundy Benz with chrome wheels and knew Kola had probably snatched up some local drug dealer. She shrugged off her sister’s annoying comment and continued upstairs to the apartment. Once she was inside, her mother was frantic about her missing cigarettes and cursed Apple out.
“Apple, you owe me money! Why you let your sister go into my pack like that?”
“She just did.”
“And where the f-uck is my change?”
“Gone.”
“Apple, don’t fuckin’ play wit’ me! I need my fuckin’ money!” Denise shouted.
“Well, I was hungry and got me a sandwich. You ain’t buyin’ or cookin’ shit,” Apple exclaimed.
“Y’all some ungrateful kids. I fuckin’ swear, I shoulda aborted y’all when I had the chance.” Denise lit up a Newport and heatedly walked into her bedroom.
Apple just smirked and said under her breath, “Next time, go to the store your damn self.” She clutched the twenty-dollar bill in her hand and knew it would be put to better use.
Apple walked into the bedroom to see her younger sister, Nichols, lying on her bed and reading the latest issue of Vibe magazine. Nichols smiled upon seeing her big sister. She was sixteen, full of energy, and developing a body like a porn star, thick in all the right places—hips, thighs, and ass—and slim where it mattered—the waist. Like her twin sisters, Nichols had many young men in the projects vying for her, but she was into her books and still in school on the regular. She was an A student and looked up to her twin sisters like role models. While Kola was teaching her about boys, clothes, and sex, Apple wanted Nichols to stay in school and not get caught up in a wayward lifestyle.
“I heard you’re going to Summer Jam with Mesha and Ayesha. Ooh, can I come, Apple?” Nichols asked with gleam in her eyes.
“We ain’t got any more tickets.”
Nichols sucked her teeth. “I wanna go.”
“I’m sorry, Nichols. We could only get three tickets.”
“I never get to do shit wit’ y’all. All I do is lie around here and do nothin’. It ain’t fair.” Nichols had a sad stare. Being more of an introvert, Nichols spent most of her time studying and with her only close friend.
Apple took a seat next to her. “Nichols, I promise next time we gonna do somethin’ together. I’m gonna look out for you this summer.”
“You promise?” Nichols asked with a smile.
“I promise. C’mon, girl, you my baby sister. I got you.”
“Kola said she was goin’ to get me into the clubs this summer,” Nichols informed her.
“Nichols, you don’t need to be in the club.”
“You and Kola go all the time, and y’all only a year older than me. I’m grown too.”
“You need to stop tryin’ to grow up so fast.”
Nichols rolled her neck and snapped her fingers. “Look who’s talking.”
“We still older and wiser.”
“Apple, all I do is go to school, study, and read. I wanna have some fun like y’all. I’m tired of being cooped up in this crib with Mommy always yelling at somebody.”
“That’s because you’re smart, Nichols, and you got potential to be better. Forget Mommy. She just hating ’cause we better than her, and we got something going for ourselves. We divas, and she ain’t.”
Nichols laughed. “Don’t let Mommy hear you say that.”
Apple stared at Nichols’ young figure in her jean skirt, which displayed her meaty thighs and smooth brown skin, and knew that, if she didn’t already, she was going to have problems in the future. Grown men looked at Nichols like she was prey—a sweet, young piece of meat. She wasn’t street savvy like her twin sisters, so Apple and Kola always felt they needed to keep a keen eye on her because the men in the projects were thirsty for a taste of her.
Nichols was growing fast and becoming more influenced by her sisters and their ways. She wanted to get out of the nest and learn how to fly on her own.
Apple noticed Nichols’ clothing was becoming tighter and more revealing. She noticed the look in Nichols’ eyes when Kola’s young hustler friends would come by the crib. Apple knew that look all too well—lust. She began to wonder if Nichols was still a virgin.
“So what you gonna wear to Summer Jam?” Nichols asked.
“I don’t even know. I ain’t got shit to wear,” Apple returned with a discouraged sigh.
“You know there’s gonna be many cuties up in there. Damn, I hate you, Apple!” Nichols joked.
“Next year, we go together. I promise, because I’m gonna be paid,” Apple said, trying to assure her little sister.
Nichols smiled, leaping from the bed and rushing to the closet. She swung open the door and went leafing through all of Apple’s clothing. Apple’s wardrobe wasn’t extensive like Kola’s. She did have some nice things, but they were all outdated, and Apple had grown tired of the style.
“You need to go shopping,” Nichols told her.
“With what money?”
“Then borrow some clothes from Kola. You know she got a bunch of gear she ain’t wearing in her closet.”
“You know how she is wit’ her shit,” Apple reminded her sister.
“Yeah, I know. That’s why I don’t ask and just sneak her outfits back into her closet when she ain’t looking,” Nichols informed Apple with a devilish smile.
“Oooh, you a sneak.”
“Hey, her clothes be lookin’ too good on me.”
Apple and Nichols both laughed.
Apple’s mood turned serious, as she thought about what to wear to the Summer Jam concert. She knew it would be a bad look for her to go in something outdated. Every bitch at that concert was going to try and outdo each other, and Apple felt she needed to step up her game or probably not go at all—especially after finding out that Cross was going to be there.
She sat next to Nichols and began pondering her options. She needed some cash, and she needed it fast. She remembered a nice, sexy outfit she saw on 125th Street the other day when she was hanging out with Ayesha. The price tag was $200, which was way out of her budget for clothes. However, Apple knew once she was seen in it, heads would turn, and dudes would drool over the way her body fit into the skintight shorts and trendy shirt.
Apple even thought about getting Kola and her crew to shoplift the outfit for her. Kola’s girls had the means, the nerves, and the attitude to boost from any store and get away with it. But she hated to owe Kola any favors. It was very frustrating for Apple to know what she wanted to wear to the concert but not be able to afford it.
“What’s on your mind, Apple?” Nichols inquired with concern.
“Nothin’,” she replied. Apple then looked at her sister and smiled. “I’ll be back.”
“Where you going?”
“Out for a minute.”
“Can I come?” Nichols asked.
“No,” Apple shouted.
Nichols sucked her teeth and caught an attitude; she hated being the little sister.
Apple snatched a cigarette from off the dresser and walked out the apartment. She needed a smoke and a walk. She marched down the pissy-smelling stairway and stepped into the lobby, only to see Supreme and Guy Tony conducting business with a young male stranger. Apple was aware of Supreme’s loan-sharking reputation. He was a bully, a pervert, and, most importantly, feared in the neighborhood.
Supreme turned to see Apple standing close by, trying to exit. He took a pull from the burning Black & Mild, eyed Apple’s luscious body from head to toe, and said, “You tryin’ to pass, Apple?”
“Yeah,” she uttered.
“How’s ya moms doin’? She good, right?” Supreme asked, his tone dirty.
“She fine.” Apple tried to be short.
Supreme nodded with a smile, his eyes dancing all over Apple’s petite, curvy figure. He had a craving for young girls like Apple. She was the one he desired the most, but she always kept her distance from him. In her eyes, Supreme was nothing but a goofball.
Guy Tony, Supreme’s young worker and underling, stood silently next to his boss. He looked at Apple with a deadpan stare, the .45 peeking from underneath his shirt. He was nineteen with a secret crush on Apple. She knew Guy Tony by his government name, Anthony. They went to grade school together and used to be cool until high school, when he started running with Supreme. It was at that time he turned into “Guy Gooney.” He had gotten sucked into the loan-sharking business with Supreme, and the two remained close ever since.
Apple noticed the nervous, young stranger by the door. She wanted to mind her business. She didn’t care for any of the men or their shady business tactics. However, she did notice the large roll of twenties and fifties that Supreme had clutched in his hand. It sparked a gleam in her eyes.
“You need somethin’, Apple?” Supreme asked.
“I just need to pass,” she said.
“You sure that’s all you need?” Supreme had a hint of persuasion in his voice as he counted his large knot.
“Yeah, now move,” she spat.
Supreme smiled. He was six-one with a broad build to him. He sported little jewelry and a denim jacket with a switchblade in the pocket, which he was known to use on deadbeats, sticking his victims in the hands, eye, knee, or wherever he was able to cause agonizing pain, as a warning for them to pay up soon.
Slowly, Supreme stepped out of Apple’s way with an unruly smile. He couldn’t keep his eyes off her body. “If you need somethin’, Apple, you can always come to me.”
“Whatever,” Apple said before exiting the building.
As she walked out into the street, the only thing on her mind was Supreme’s bankroll. She figured he had to have about five grand in his pockets, and she knew she could do wonders with that money. First, she would get herself the bomb outfit for Summer Jam, and second, she would leave the projects for something better. But those were only dreams. Supreme was a snake—a first-class jerk. Still, he had money, which was something she truly needed.
Apple took a seat on top of the bench, took a few pulls from her cigarette, and thought about doing the unthinkable. That bankroll in Supreme’s hand had excited her. In Apple’s mind, it was easy money. Summer Jam was next week, and she needed an outfit, her hair done, money for transportation, and maybe a little extra something for food and activities with her girls.
“Just this one time, you gotta look right for Cross,” she convinced herself.
She took a few more pulls from her cigarette, sighed heavily, jumped from off the bench, and hurried back to see Supreme. After walking into the lobby, she noticed the stranger had left, but Supreme and Guy Tony had lingered around, talking.
Supreme immediately saw Apple re-enter the building. He turned with a smile. “You came back for somethin’?” he asked with a smirk.
Apple looked up at him, wondering if she was doing the right thing by asking him for a loan. “Can we talk?” she asked.
Supreme looked at the young beauty for a moment. Then he exhaled the smoke from the Black & Mild he puffed on and gestured for Apple to follow him into the stairwell for privacy. “Give me a minute, Guy,” he said.
Guy Tony nodded.
As Apple followed behind him, Supreme asked, “What you need?”
“I need a favor.”
“How much?” Supreme asked, already knowing she wanted money. It was always about money with him. Supreme towered over Apple’s five-three frame and waited for her to answer.
“Two hundred,” Apple replied, afraid that if she asked for more he would shut her down.
“Two hundred, huh?”
“I’ll pay you back,” she told him.
“I know you will. It ain’t a choice. But you know I’m about my business, Apple. I take it seriously. I’m nothin’ to play with in these streets.”
“I know.”
“What you need this paper for anyway?”
“I’d rather not say.”
Supreme chuckled and licked his lips. He was known to have females f-uck or suck him repeatedly to free themselves from their debts. He had the same plan for Apple. If she couldn’t pay him back, he would have her sleep off her debt.
“You know what? Since I like you, I’ma hook you up.” Supreme reached into his pocket, peeled off five crisp C-notes, and passed them to Apple. “Take five hundred and have yourself a good time.”
“But I only need two,” Apple contested meekly.
“I know you’re good for it. I’ll get my money back one way or another, Apple. You remember that. I don’t like to be fucked wit’,” Supreme stated in a cold tone.
Apple wasn’t intimidated by his subtle threats, though. For some inexplicable reason she felt that the most he would do to her is try to bark on her in front of her peoples, which she could handle. She had been around men scarier than him, and she knew how to handle herself. She thought Supreme was a clown-ass dude, and in her mind he was a dumb ass for loaning her the money knowing she didn’t work.
She smiled and responded, “Thanks.”
“You got three weeks to pay that back to me wit’ three points added to that, Apple. After that, I might become a problem.”
“It won’t be a problem, Supreme,” she assured him.
“As long as we got that understanding then.”
Apple rushed up the concrete stairway, while Supreme watched her in her form-fitting skirt, leeringly. This loan was motivated by pure lust. He massaged his crotch and thought about her young pu-ssy. It was a loan he was eager to get paid back in sex. He didn’t want the money; he wanted her.