Jacy was getting ready for her date with the thug.

“Where did I put that damn belt?” she asked as she scoured her closet. “That belt would have gone perfect with this outfit.” She sucked her teeth and finally just gave up looking.

Jacy took a look at herself again in the mirror. Her date was with Rich, a construction worker- or so he said - that she met at Flow, one of the hottest clubs in Philly. She was dressed in a sharp new bright white princess blouse with slight bell sleeves, a pair of tight fitting light blue parasuco jeans and matching white stilleto-heeled sandals. Jacy digged designer clothes, but she didn’t sweat them too hard. To her, most of the time no-name brand clothes looked ten times better than the big designers and cost ten times less. With the exception of shoes and purses, Jacy left the designer names to the millionaires. Besides, she thought, why would she want to be some filthy rich designer’s billboard, displaying their name across her chest all the time for free?

Her phone rang just as she was about to apply mascara to her other eye. She finished her eye and then walked over to her cellphone, picking it up on the fourth ring.

"Hello?"

"Sup it’s Rich. I’m about to go down to the restaurant right now. I’ll be there in like… ten minutes, aiight?"

"Alright, I’ll see you there then."

"How far you live from City Line? You sure you don’t want me to come pick you up?"

"Yea I’m sure. I’m only 15 or 20 minutes away from the restaurant. I’ll probably get there a little bit after you so just sit tight."

Jacy had learned her lesson about letting men she just met know where she lived on the first date. They all claimed to be decent guys who would never in their life stalk a female. Why would they need to? is what they said. Lies. Jacy had come across her share of crazy, needy men who seemed to be cool enough at first but then showed their true colors in the end. Despite what men said about women being clingy, some of them were overly pressed themselves.

"Alright, so I’ll see you in 20 minutes then," he said.

"Cool, see you then," Jacy hung up the phone and went back to the bathroom mirror to take one more good look.

Jacilyn Thomas was 23 years old, and stood at 5’5, 135 lbs. She had a rich chocolate complexion and straight dark brown hair reaching her mid back. She was not fat, but definitely not skinny. She was small in stature, but thick, and she kept herself toned by lifting weights and running on the treadmill in the gym down the street from her small apartment in Philly from time to time. Her breast size was proportionate to her body size, but her behind was healthy compared to her small frame, inherited from a long line of well shaped women. Jacy was happy with her body and never watched her weight or complained and starved herself when she gained. In fact she welcomed the extra pounds, just as long as she could keep her stomach as flat as it had been since her high school years. She admired women who were even thicker than her and still managed to keep their bodies looking tight and fit.

After about ten more minutes of primping in the bathroom mirror she went back into her bedroom and took one more look in her closet for the belt, but didn’t look long because she thought to herself that it would probably be too much for that outfit at a restaurant and the movies anyway. She patted Muffy, her big fluffy cat, on the head as she purred loudly.

"You be a good girl OK?" she told Muffy and finally grabbed her denim Gucci bag and walked out the door.

The drive to Friday’s was smooth since it was after 8 o’ clock and the rush hour traffic on Route 76 and City line was long gone. Jacy searched for about ten minutes for a parking spot in the eternally packed Fridays and finally pulled into one close to the office building at the back of the lot. She strutted to the entrance of Friday’s and walked in, already becoming annoyed at the crowd of people there. She immediately recognized Rich sitting at the bar wearing a throwback jersey and a fresh new pair of butter-colored tims. He was brown skinned with a low cut and perfect teeth. He wasn’t gorgeous, but he was attractive in his own way. He was definitely a thug.

"Hey, what’s up!" she said over the background commotion, walking over to him smiling.

"Hey girl, sup wit you?" Rich said grinning wide, looking her up and down with a lustful stare along with three other guys at the bar while their dates stared at her with unadulterated hate written in their expressions.

"I’m sorry it took me so long, I couldn’t find a parking space," Over 40 minutes had passed since their earlier conversation. "So how are you?"

"I’m aiight," he answered, still slightly mesmerized by what he saw sitting beside him. Damn! This girl is fine, he thought as he listened to her comment about how Friday’s on City Line was always packed tight, even on the weekdays. He licked his lips as she continued talking. He hadn’t noticed how smooth and flawless her dark brown skin was when they met in the club. The white blouse she was wearing contrasted perfectly with her complexion—she looked like a black angel.

"So what do you do other than ‘construction’ Rich?" Jacy inquired with an emphasis on the word construction.

But Jacy knew what was up. Brothas would use a generic profession as a front to females for what they were really doing for money. Barber, construction, mechanic. But she wasn’t mad at them, because as far as she was concerned, a lot of women and people in general just didn’t know how to keep their mouths shut. People she knew were always gossipping, bragging to their friends and saying things over the phone unconsciously. Jacy on the other hand was a very private person.

She didn’t advocate what went on in the drug game, but in a world where black men like Rich were usually kept from making decent money any other way, she understood that they were just trying to make a living with the limited skills and opportunities they possessed. Of course people might say that was just an excuse, but she wanted those same people to step in a brotha like Rich’s shoes. From the very beginning, birth. Then back from the hospital to a hovel of a home. Then on to elementary school in the ghetto where kids like him couldn’t bring their books home to study. Then to job interviews where they required a college degree. They would quickly learn that there are only two real hopes for escape—drugs and music. Jacy learned as a young child listening to her relatives talk, that people loved to judge; especially when they had their own skeletons river-dancing in the closet. Having her own bones to hide, she promised herself she wouldn’t dare judge another’s life.

"Aaah I do a little bit of this, little of that. I try to stay as busy as possible," he said avoiding eye contact, motioning to the bartender.

When the bartender finally came over Jacy ordered an apple martini and Rich got another Corona. They sat, drank and talked until their table was finally ready.

As they slid into the booth Rich concentrated his line of vision on the cross resting above Jacy’s cleavage. He definitely wasn’t a church going man, but he did need a girl in his life with a little religion.

"You go to church?" he finally asked.

Jacy concentrated on him for a minute. "Every other week or so. I found a nice church in West Philly."

"Oh yea, that’s good. Real good," Rich thought for a while about if he had ever even dated a woman that got up and went to church on Sunday morning.

The rest of the night went by well, conversation flowed and the food was tasty. When the check came Rich pulled out a fat stack of bills confirming Jacy’s earlier suspicions. Afterwards, they went to the movies to see a new flick with John Leguizamo and Fat Joe in it. Nothing that impressed Jacy, just another wannabe Scarface movie about a Puerto Rican drug triangle in the Bronx. After leaving the movie theater, Jacy and Rich hugged their goodbyes, Jacy giving him a peck on the cheek, and parted ways. Rich smirked and watched as Jacy walked to her car before turning to his left and heading for his.

* * * * *

Jacy enjoyed the date but was only mildy interested. She liked Rich but could already see that even if they did get together it wouldn’t last. Thugs were only short term—they were just good for a little fun as far as Jacy was concerned. She had been there many times before. She quickly got bored of thug types and moved on. Her idea of a real prize was a tall, good looking brown skinned professional man that wore tailored suits to work. Smelling like expensive cologne. Switching effortlessly into professional speak as if it were his first language. Masterful at his chosen skill.

She snapped out of her little daydream as the light turned green and she followed the road up to the expressway. As she was getting off her exit her cellphone rang. She heaved a long deep sigh as she read the caller ID. It was Terrell. Again.

Jacy had met Terrell that past December at a mutual friends get together at a local bar in Philly. They hit it off and went out a few times before getting semi-serious. Jacy liked him because there was something about him that held her interest. He was charismatic, confident and kept her laughing, but she still wasn’t so sure she wanted to be in a committed relationship with him. Plus, while Terrell seemed to be slightly cultured and intelligent, he was still a straight up thug. He didn’t seem to have much of a goal in life besides running the streets, and he was always doing little dumb things that irked Jacy’s nerves. While Jacy was thinking short-term, Terrell on the other hand was actually thinking "marriage." At 26 he was feeling the pressure from his peers who were getting married and having children all around him and thought that Jacy would make a perfect wife. Their diverting opinions about the relationship, and Terrell’s ‘niggafied’ ways, as Jacy called it, ultimately led Jacy to break it off, only a couple of months prior.

"Yea Terrell," Jacy spoke into the phone.

"What’s up baby what you doin’?" Terrell said sounding amped like he had just gotten off a roller coaster.

"I’m on my way home. What do you want?"

"Awww come on. Why you always gotta be like that Jacy."

"Like what?" Jacy asked impatiently.

"I need to see you."

"For what?"

"I wanted to give you something."

"Mail it to me." This was usually Jacy’s answer when Terrell claimed to have something for her. She knew it couldn’t be too important.

"I ain’t mailing you shit. Smart ass. I want to see you and give it to you in person."

"Terrell I don’t have time for no games tonight alright? You’re always trying to make up some excuse to see me. I swear you stay on some dumb shit," Jacy fumed.

"Dammit Jacy, why are you so fucking mean to me all the time? I’m over here trying to make this thing work and you just want to be nasty all the damn time. You would think you’d at least miss me or something."

"Well maybe if you gave me a chance to miss you Terrell!" Jacy was sensing that Terrell was about to go off on a tangent again. She had no intention of ever getting back with him. Cruelty was the only way to get through to him, and even then he usually didn’t respond. She sighed. "We are not ever getting back together like that again ok? Get it out of your mind. Seriously. It’s OVER Terrell. And I’m seeing someone else now," Jacy told a little white lie. She was only dating but not really seeing anyone seriously. She just wanted to say whatever to get Terrell off her back for good.

"Who??" Terrell asked like a crazed man.

"None of your damned business. Now I gotta go alright??" Jacy said waiting in vain for him to say OK, or to just hang up.

"No it ain’t alright. Don’t tell me you been lettin’ some other nigga hit it Jacy?" Terrell said sounding hurt as if he were about to cry or flip out.

"Didn’t I just say that’s none of your business! Geez! Look, Imma talk to you some other time Terrell," Jacy said as she clicked the ‘end’ button on her phone.

Terrell called three more times before finally giving up and leaving a message. Jacy knew she was being mean to him but sometimes that’s how you gotta be to get someone off your back, she thought. She had always talked to Terrell however she pleased, throughout their entire relationship. And he just took it. As hard and as well respected he was in the streets, Jacy had Terrell on edge behind closed doors.

She even thought that Terrell actually liked the verbal abuse, because on several occasions she caught him grinning after she had cursed him out for doing something stupid. And she was right.

Terrell was raised by a mother who was regularly lashing out on him and telling him he wasn’t shit. He was always doing stupid things as a child to provoke his mother. It was no wonder why he probably thought the situation with himself and Jacy was normal. Jacy felt bad for him and even comforted him at times when he’d come over her place upset about something his mother said to break his spirit. Unlike his heartless mother, Jacy would encourage him to do more with his life and told him that he had so much potential, which was part of the reason why Terrell loved Jacy so much.

Jacy pulled into her apartment building and walked up to her apartment. It was after 12 so she just wrapped up her hair, washed up and got ready for bed.

THE NEXT morning at work Jacy sat at her desk, completely fed up with her job. Her boss had just called her into the office to scold her for coming in ten minutes late.

"I can’t believe this place, how ungrateful can you be," she thought out loud throwing her pen on the desk. Despite being only 23, Jacy had been at her current job for over seven years, starting out as a copy girl working part time while in high school in New Jersey, then becoming an intern, while in college at Seaton Hall, for the Assistant Director of Corporate Communications, and finally getting hired full time as a Communications Analyst at the firm’s Philadelphia office. After all that time they were still giving her a hard time over little stuff, such as coming in a few minutes late.

"I hate this place," she mumbled to herself as she got up to get a cup of coffee from the break room. On her way to the large break room she passed Patricia, Robin, and Felix, the resident gay guy at the office, gossipping as usual at Patricia’s cubicle. Jacy just shook her head and continued on to her destination. On her way back she heard her name mentioned in their conversation, so she moved to the side and listened to what they were saying.

"…she probably thinks she is just IT, just because she got an ‘analyst’ position. Big fucking deal that don’t mean nothing. I could even do that job," That was Patricia. She and pretty much all of the black women at Jacy’s job were secretaries.

"You know? Ms. Thing, walking around here trying to be all cute and shit. I bet she slept with the director to get that job," Felix said in his gay voice. Jacy could never understand why some gay men talked like that, it was as if they were trying to sound overly female.

"Well you know I talked to her a few times, and she seems like a pretty cool person," Robin said in Jacy’s defense. Jacy thought back to the time she had stayed late with Robin to help her fix the printer so that Robin could print out a color version of her report for night school. Everyone else, even her so-called gossipping buddies, had left her high and dry since it was after 5pm.

"Well I don’t think so, she seem like a straight up bitch to me," Felix answered rolling his eyes. "Patty did you ever find out who that dude was that came up to the office looking for her that day?"

Patty was the office busy body. She knew everything and everybody—even the higher ups at the firm. She was notorious for smiling up in people’s faces and then dishing the dirt about them when they left. Most of the black people and a few whites at Jacy’s job were complete gossips who feened for information about other people’s lives since they didn’t have ones of their own. And Patricia was their pusher.

"Oh yea! I forgot to tell you. Girl, he works at the post office down the street. I saw him in there the other day and I was like ‘I knew I recognized that guy from somewhere.’ Poor guy, looking all desperate coming up here with flowers looking for Jacy and she wasn’t even trying to be bothered. I think she probably did some foul shit to him and it’s too bad because he seemed like a pretty nice guy."

She couldn’t be further from the truth, Jacy thought. The guy they were talking about, Desmond, from the Post Office, was a complete lunatic. Desmond had always flirted with Jacy when she came into the post office, and one day he finally asked her out to a happy hour after work. Jacy had made the half-way drunk mistake of letting him drop her home after the happy hour since she took the train to work usually, and after that he started popping up to her house unannounced. When she told him off and said she didn’t want to see him anymore, she started to see his car parked to the side of her building occasionally when she left in the morning for work, and sometimes later on at night when she went out.

One day he approached her in the parking lot of her building and asked why she didn’t call or answer his messages anymore. She screamed at him to leave her alone and stop stalking her, then power-walked to her car. That was the day he came up to the office looking for her and Jacy was conveniently absent. After that surprise visit she told the security guards in her building to not let him up to see her ever again, and she hadn’t heard from him since. She had recently moved to a new apartment building to start anew. She also went to a different post office, in spite of the fact that it was a longer walk from her job.

"Damn you see? There ain’t nothin’ nice about that girl Robin. She probably didn’t want to see him when she found out he work at the post office," he snickered with Patty.

Jacy shook her head and kept walking on to her desk.

AS THE El train hit the daylight again after being under the tunnel, Jacy’s cellphone signal came back and only a few seconds later her cell phone rang. The number came up unavailable. Debating on whether she should pick it up or not, she reluctantly clicked the "talk" button.

"Hello?"

"Why’d you bang on me like that last night? I swear you be treating me like I ain’t shit!"

Damn, Jacy thought sighing, I knew I should have just let this shit ring.

"Jacy we need to talk," he continued, "I know I’ve done some dumb shit in the past, but I ain’t never cheat on you or laid a hand on you. That’s gotta count for somethin’ right? I promise you, I’ll do whatever it takes for us to be together and to get along," Terrell said trying to sound sincere.

"Okay then, what did you have to give me last night?" Jacy asked, setting him up.

"Wha?"

"You know, you said you have something to give me. I’m on the El right now, three stops from your house. I’ll come pick it up."

"Huh, oh, ummmmmm. It’s at my mama’s house, I’ll have to get that for you tomorrow. But I still want you to come by—"

"Negro please!" Jacy said laughing. "You never had nothing for me, so stop lying. Ooo. You are always doing that, just saying some shit to get what you want. But I bet you’ve changed right?" she asked sarcastically.

"Naw baby listen. I’m telling you—"

"Whatever." Jacy laughed again and then flipped down her phone. It was always little things like that that bothered the hell out of her about Terrell. He would say something one day, and then play dumb like he never said it the next, as if it didn’t matter at all that he was lying from the beginning. Jacy didn’t feel that she could really trust Terrell.

Jacy got off the train and passed through the West Philly hood to get to her parked car. Where she got off wasn’t far from where they called "the bottom," The bottom was exactly that—the worst kinda hood. You didn’t want to be caught there after the sun set unless you knew somebody there who was well known on the block. The thing about Philly was that it was big on ‘hoods’—everybody knew everybody in each hood, and if they didn’t know you then you’d better rethink your plans to visit.

"Ay yo shorti!" some guy with a thick beard yelled out from his permanent spot on the opposite corner as she passed. Jacy just kept walking involved in her own thoughts.

Jacy drove home in complete silence thinking about her life and career. What she really wanted to do was to own her own real estate business. But she had little connections in the field, didn’t know any good carpenters that could fix up houses for cheap, and had a hard time finding the time to concentrate or take the actual steps towards her goal. She didn’t know how much longer she could postpone her dream, and only hoped that it wouldn’t leave her behind.

When she arrived home Jacy fed Muffy, then plopped in front of the television and started channel surfing. While getting into the episode of Seinfeld where George fights the bubble boy, her cell phone rang. It was Rich from last night.

"Sup girl. What you doin’," he asked over background noise from his car stereo.

"Nothin’, just watching TV," Jacy said giggling as the townspeople ambushed George for sending the bubble boy to the hospital.

"I wanna take you on a ride."

"Where?"

"Just around, and to run some errands. We can get a bite to eat a little later."

"Well…" Jacy hesitated, thinking about whether she felt like riding through the hood today and meeting his friends, which was obviously what he meant. But she kinda liked Rich and was curious to see him in action around his people. Plus she was hungry. "…Yea I guess. I can go for some Houlihan’s shrimp pasta later ok?"

"Aiight. Imma come pick you up?"

"Naw let me change real quick and meet you at 56^th and Chestnut. I’ll park my car up there and jump in with you, okay?"

"How come you don’t want me to know where you live?" Rich inquired.

"Cuz I don’t know you that well." Jacy said bluntly.

"Well, I ain’t crazy or nothin’," he said getting a little defensive. "What you think I’m gonna stalk you or somethin? I ain’t got no time for all that."

I bet, Jacy thought.

"So I’ll see you in about 30-40 minutes, ok?" Jacy said out loud.

"Aiight."

WHEN SHE pulled up almost an hour later, Rich was sitting in his car, a ‘92 Pontiac Bonneville, talking on his cellphone. When he saw Jacy’s car he ended the conversation, leaned back in his seat and just stared at her fixedly as she got out the car and strutted over to the passenger side of his car. "Damn," he said, licking his lips, "I might have to give up my rules on this jawn, she got that model walk and everything." Lost in his thoughts Rich forgot to click the locks on the door for her to get in.

When he finally did, Jacy stepped in smelling like fresh flowers, filling his car with her sweet scent. Even though she was dressed casual in a pair of tight fitting jeans and a v-necked pink blouse, she still looked amazing. He continued staring at her not saying a word while Jacy started to fidget in her seat wondering what the hell he was thinking about. She finally broke the silence.

"So where are we about to go?"

"Ummm, I gotta go see my man for a minute, then run some quick errands. After that we’ll hit Houlihan’s like you said aiight?" he said breaking his stare and turning the ignition. The music immediately started blasting Freeway through the speakers.

"Okay," Jacy said smiling. She admired the interior of the car that looked pretty plain and boring from the outside. It was a squatter. Regular on the outside, but nice and comfortable inside. The car was also very powerful and its pick up speed surprised her. He obviously used his money to hook the car up on the inside, while keeping the exterior looking basic yet clean instead of flashy, to avoid drawing unneeded attention to himself. Good, Jacy thought, he’s smart.

They drove up a few blocks and finally made a right turn on a small back street lined with row houses. Kids that couldn’t have been more than seven or eight years old played in the street recklessly, screaming and carrying on while grown folks sat on the porch talking or stood by the sidewalk waiting for something, anything to happen.

Rich parked his car in front of a line of red brick rowhouses and jumped out, his tims pounding the pavement leading to his boy’s house.

"Timbo!!" he yelled mid-jog.

His boy came to the door dressed in a wife beater and some shorts and they disappeared into the house.

Rich and Timbo came out roughly ten minutes later laughing. Timbo came around to Jacy’s side of the car and opened the door. He looked Jacy from head to toe. Damn he’s bold, Jacy thought, with his ugly ass self. She sat still staring up at him waiting for him to say something.

"So you Jacy huh? Damn Roo wasn’t playin’ when he said yo ass fine! Shit!"

Jacy smiled and thanked him in her sweetest voice, then looked over at Rich, who was standing beside him by now, with a look on her face that said "So what’s next?"

"Come on out baby, I want you to meet some people," Rich said grinning.

Jacy stepped out in her baby pink blouse looking completely out of place on that worn down block which of course caused all the people lining the streets and sitting on the porches to turn and look, being nosey. She watched as Timbo shut the car door and then followed Rich around to the house. Timbo was walking behind her of course. She could feel him staring hard at her ass. The door was wide open so they just walked right in.

There was always something about Jacy that made people stop and take note. She had a ‘presence.’ Some people could stand in a room for over two hours and nobody would even know that they were there, because they had no presence. But not Jacy. When she stepped into a room she had the uncanny ability to win the attention of everyone in it.

They walked into the chilling area near the back of the house where there were about ten brothas and sistas sitting chilling, drinking and watching the Sixers playoff game on TV. They quieted down and all eyes were on Jacy.

"Ya’ll meet my girl Jacy," Rich announced. Your girl? Dang, I just went out with you once, Jacy thought. "Jacy these some of my peoples: Don, Petey Pete, Box, Coot, Jimmy, T-dog, Trim…" he said running off their names. Jacy followed his finger with her eyes in the dim light as everybody said ‘what’s up.’

"Whats up ya’ll," Jacy said with a smile and a light wave in the air.

"What’s the score," Rich wanted to know. One of the girls sitting on the couch got up as if by habit and Rich pulled Jacy over to the spot sitting her on his lap. Jacy sat down not thinking much of it. Everyone else went back to watching the game.

"75-70 my nigga. The Sixers playin’ real sloppy right now."

"My nigga DC!!" a walnut colored brotha jumped up and screamed as Derrick Coleman slammed the ball in the hoop while everybody else "ohhhhed" in approval.

"It’s about time—he been missing all his damn jump shots," a short coal black brotha said from his chair in the corner after settling down.

"Naw he just was having a bad run earlier, he be aiight."

"Yo that nigga Snow got four fouls already what the hell he doin’??" an annoyed rail thin light skinned brotha they called Trim yelled from the couch as the referee blew his whistle on Eric Snow.

"He betta get wit it and start hittin’ those threes if they gonna win this shit, early!" another dark skinned brotha growled out angrily, never taking his eyes from the screen.

Just then Terrell busted in the front door with a light skinned girl who had a bad weave complete with pink tips running close behind, trying to catch the door before it closed. The girl had on a matching hot pink belt and shoes with skin tight jeans molded to her figure.

"Damn Terrell!" she said in her high pitched ‘philly girl’ voice nearly falling back outside from the door slamming back on her hands.

"What’s the score!" Terrell yelled running into the living room with his eyes glued to the screen. He bent down with his hand on the top of the TV, still not even noticing that Jacy was in the room.

Oh Shit! Jacy thought immediately feeling awkward at what would inevitably happen. Terrell was still staring at the screen when Iverson got fouled.

"76-72 Detroit up," the thin light skinned guy said leaning into the screen.

"What quarter—" Terrell said finally leaning back up quickly and turning towards the crowd. He froze when he saw Jacy sitting on Rich’s lap.

Terrell was definitely not a bad looking brotha. At 6’3 he towered over most men in Philly, most of whom usually stood at about 5’10. He was a shade darker than caramel with big soup cooler lips that were always wet and muscles popping out from everywhere under his black wife beater.

"What the? Jacy what the hell you doin on this nigga lap!" he finally said.

"Terrell don’t even start," Jacy said turning her head and getting embarrassed as everyone turned to look. You could have heard a dime drop if the game hadn’t been blasting on the TV.

"How you know my girl Rich?" Terrell said clenching his fists and giving Rich the look of death.

"Yo’ girl? I thought that was your girl standing right over there nigga?" Rich said pointing over to the light skinned girl who was standing to the side with all her weight on one foot and her arms crossed. She didn’t look happy, but still didn’t say anything.

"Could ya’ll take this shit outside or something I’m trying to watch the game!" Trim yelled out. His face was scrunched up in disgust. He seemed to always be annoyed.

"Shut the hell up man." Terrell yelled at Trim, never looking in his direction. Trim just sucked his teeth and leaned back, trying his best to focus on the game. "Jacy what the fuck?" Terrell said ignoring Rich’s prior question and looking hurt.

"Terrell why can’t you just let shit go?" Jacy said standing up, thoroughly embarrassed at having her business aired in a room full of people she didn’t even know.

"What happen to Keisha ass?" Terrell questioned Rich hoping he had struck a chord.

"Me and Keisha done—been done dude," Rich said standing up too, becoming increasingly angry.

"Oh yea? And what about that jawn you was fuckin’ with—"

"Rich can we go get something to eat now, I haven’t eaten since lunchtime," Jacy interrupted grabbing Rich’s throwback, trying to stop something before it had a chance to start. Terrell had some nerve—she had only dated him for a couple months but it was never officially serious between them. Why was he always acting like this? Jacy thought. Rich hesitated for a moment, looking dead into Terrell’s eyes. He sucked something out of his back teeth and continued eyeing Terrell.

"Rich, come on. This is nothing, really." Jacy stepped in front of Rich to break the stare-down. Her tone was reassuring. Rich looked at her soft brown eyes, which were opened wide and pleading. He looked back up at Terrell.

"Okay baby, we gone. Ya’ll stay up," he finally said grabbing Jacy’s hand and giving several people pounds. If Terrell had been drinking water, steam would have been coming out of his ears. "Bo imma get up wit you later doggie," Rich said walking out with Jacy in front of him. Terrell was speechless.

"Aiight then man, don’t forget what we talked about," Timbo answered him, then focused back on the game.

Rich and Jacy had made their way outside when they heard three loud gunshots down the block not far behind Rich’s car and a woman’s blood curdling scream.

"Get in," Rich said nearly snatching Jacy’s arm off throwing her in the driver’s seat of the car. He glanced back at what had happened for a minute before he finally jumped in himself, pushing her to the passenger’s side. Two men were running full speed down the block and turned a corner disappearing out of view. A woman, presumably the one who was screaming, ran down her steps to a man’s lifeless body on the sidewalk. His boy Timbo and a few others appeared at the door to make sure that Rich was alright as he pulled off down the block. He pulled an extra cell phone, not his usual Motorola, from under his seat and told Jacy to call for an ambulance. Some of the people on the street had taken cover but most were still standing around outside being nosey looking at where the shots came from.

"Don’t tell them that you saw who did the shooting, just tell them the location and hang up aiight?" Rich said, navigating through the narrow streets. Jacy, shaking a little, did as she was told.

"Oh my God!" Jacy said with her heart beating through her chest as she finally clicked off the phone and dropped it. She was visibly shaken by all of what had happened in such a short time.

When they finally got back out on Chestnut Street they made a left and headed up towards the direction of Market Street. They kept riding north in silence, still slightly in shock. Jacy had been witness to a lot of shootings since she moved to Philly, and even in her old hometown, but had never been that close to the actual shooting. That was just too close.

"Do you think he’ll be alright?" she said turning her head to look at Rich.

"Naw, that nigga got hit at least twice close range. He’s done. It was probably those niggas from down 60^th they had it out for that nigga for a minute…" he said trailing off. He had his left hand on his chin in deep thought.

They kept driving until they reached another red brick rowhouse on a corner.

"Stay here," he said hopping out again, and making his way around to the back of the house through a small alleyway.

Jacy sighed and pulled out a piece of Dentyne Ice to chew on. She looked out the window after him until he was out of sight. She was more than used to this routine, but she was starting to grow tired of it quickly. Why couldn’t she just meet a nice regular brotha somewhere? Someone who wasn’t down with running the streets all the damn time? Someone she didn’t have to dodge bullets with? She already knew the answer though. Look at where she lived. Thug city—Philadelphia, USA. The vast majority of people in Philly were living below the poverty line and in misery. Crime flourished. Therefore her choices of types of men in the city were slim. Most of the professional brothas in Philly lived far out near the main line and in Germantown, Mount Airy and Chestnut Hill or on college campuses, but she had no business to attend to out there or a reason to be in those areas. In addition, from Jacy’s experience those types of guys were usually the ones that pretended as if they were too good to approach a woman. Jacy needed a man, not a bitch.

In the part of Philly where she lived you couldn’t even walk down your block without encountering a rough looking brotha standing on a corner, a chicken head riding by in her drug dealer boyfriend’s rimmed out Lexus. Maybe I should seriously start thinking about moving out of this city, Jacy thought.

Her cellphone rang and she smiled when she saw the caller ID. It was Rachelle, her very best friend, outside of her cousin Tammy of course. Rachelle had gone to school with her in Jersey and coincidentally got a job in Philly only two months before Jacy was transferred there herself. Rachelle and Jacy hung tight like sisters and could sit around for hours talking about whatever was going on in their lives.

"Hey Girl!" Jacy said happily into the phone.

"Whats up chick?? Whatchyou doin."

"Nothing really, just sittin outside this house."

"Oh yea, which?"

"This dude I’ve been seeing named Rich. I just came back from his boys’ and now I’m sitting out at somebody else’s house waiting. He’d better hurry up. I tell you I don’t think its worth all this drama, for real," Jacy said getting angry as she realized 15 minutes had passed and she was still waiting.

"Damn girl. Is he at least cute?"

"In his own way I guess. He’s got a little bit of a swagger about him—he seems to have the most pull out of his crew. And he most definitely has dough."

"Alright then girl just don’t make him cry like you did that nigga Terrell," she said breaking out laughing.

"Oh girl. You will never believe it. I’m at Rich’s boys’ house and why Terrell’s black ass come through the door!"

"NO!"

"Yes! He was pissed! You should have seen the look on his face. I wanted to sink into the floor I was so embarrassed—in front of all those people. Nothing really popped off but they looked like they wanted to throw blows."

"Oh lawd girl. You better be careful about that situation. Did you tell him you used to date Terrell?"

"No, but he knows now. Do you know I just went out for a first date with Rich yesterday and he’s already talking about ‘I’m his girl?’ I swear these brothas get so damned possessive."

"Well you know that’s how they are. Don’t want nobody else dipping in their jelly."

"I guess," Jacy said laughing. "And then I come outside with Rich and have to dodge bullets! Somebody just got shot and probably killed on his block. Not even 15 minutes ago."

"What??"

"Yup."

"Damn girl, are you OK?"

"Yea, I’m fine. I feel bad for his mother, sister or his girl. She was outside when he got shot," Jacy looked out the car window at an old man crossing the street. "We called an ambulance, so maybe he’ll make it. I don’t know. I hope so."

"Me too."

"So what’s been up with you? I haven’t seen you in a few days."

"Yea I know that’s why I was calling to see what you were up to tonight."

"Why what’s going on?"

"Well, Chemistry is supposed to be jumping tonight. They having a special ‘Thursday Night Freestyle’ bash. They’re playing reggae, soca, hip hop, old school and plenty of down south hits. I think that rapper, um, Konfidential might be performing live too. At least it said so on the flyer. Someone passed me his CD a while back, I like a couple of his songs."

"Oh for real? Now you know I’m down. We’re going to eat in a little while, but after that I’ll just tell him I have other plans."

"Alright then girl, just give me a call when you’re getting ready."

"Okay, talk to you later."

Jacy hung up and literally two seconds later Terrell’s number was popping up on her cell.

"Lawd," she said outloud to herself. "Let me get this over with."

"What!" she said into the phone.

"Don’t get no fucking attitude with me! That’s the nigga you seein’ now huh??"

"Terrell not that it’s any of your business, but yea that’s who I’m seeing. You happy now? Why does it matter so much to you anyway? We broke up almost three months ago!"

"I don’t give a fuck. You ain’t supposed to be fucking with niggas I know. Dammit Jacy why of all people you gotta be dating my cousin’s best boy??"

Damn, Jacy thought. "How the hell was I supposed to know Rich is your cousin’s best friend. I’m not psychic. It’s not like he’s your friend, ya’ll are just associates from what you just told me, so you need to stop trippin."

"Tripping? No you gonna stop tripping acting like—"

"Terrell?" she said with her finger resting on the "end" button while the phone was still to her ear.

"What?"

"Terrell, I’m really not in the mood for this babe. I just saw that guy get shot and killed and I’m not feeling this frivolous conversation right now," she said making an excuse to get off the phone.

He paused and thought. "Alright but I do want to talk to you about this shit later."

"Terrell there’s really nothing more to talk about on this. I’m dating Rich, we’re cool, it’s nothing serious, you can’t say or do anything to change that, and… that’s all there is to it alright? Goodbye!" she said firmly, then clicked off the phone before he could get in another word.

It had been a full 30 minutes since Rich went in the house.

"What the hell does he think I like to spend my day waiting in people’s cars?" Jacy said outloud to herself, contemplating how far the walk would be to her car.

Just then the door flung open and Rich came out with a serious look on his face, as if he was crunching numbers in his head or something.

"What took you so long?" Jacy asked as he slid into his seat.

"What? I had some shit to take care of," Rich answered turning the ignition, hardly paying attention to her question.

"Don’t have me sittin’ in your car for that long again," Jacy said calmly then looked out the window again as he pulled off. Rich looked over at her in amazement as he drove.

"Girl you better chill the fuck out. I told you I had business to take care of. Shit!"

"Nigga?" she said turning to look at him like he had lost his mind. "I will hop out this car and walk to 56^th street, do you really think I give a fuck!?"

"Fine then. Do dat. I don’t have no time for this bullshit," he said calling her bluff. He pulled the car over, leaned back in his seat and rested his wrist on the wheel staring straight ahead. Jacy promptly grabbed her purse and unlatched the door getting out. Rich whipped his neck in her direction.

"Ma, ma, ma. Calm down," He said quickly reaching over and pulling her back into the car by her arm. He gave her a crooked smile. "I’m sorry alright! I didn’t expect that shit to take that long. I’ll make it up to—"

"Look! Rich. I don’t have time for this type of shit either. I told your ass I was hungry two hours ago and you still gonna have me riding around waiting in your car two hours later? Then gonna get an attitude with me? I coulda been home eating a TV dinner for all this shit. Don’t disrespect my time like that again." Jacy said moving her head violently.

"Alright mami, damn, I gotchu. Just sit back and chill we headed to Houlihans right now aiight?" he said looking at her with his full attention and both his eyebrows raised. He was unnerved by the fact that she was actually about to walk over 15 blocks through ‘the bottom’ to get to her car in the darkness at almost 9’oclock at night. This chick gully, he thought. For some reason he found her very appealing at that moment.

"Naw, I don’t even think I feel like going to Houlihans no more. Just take me home," she said settling back into her seat. Jacy was used to getting her way with men.

Rich paused for a couple of minutes still staring at her before saying: "No, we goin to Houlihans." He turned around in his seat and pulled out towards City Line Ave.

AS THEY left the restaurant full from pasta, chicken, shrimp and wine and were headed to the car, Rich pulled Jacy close to him and wrapped his arms around her back straddling her as he leaned back against his car. He kissed her firmly on the mouth, trying to pry open her lips with his tongue. Jacy, feeling slightly tipsy from the wine and liking the forcefulness of his kiss, eventually eased her soft hands around the back of his head and kissed him back, slowly opening her mouth and letting him slip inside. She fought his tongue with her own, until he gave in, allowing his to retreat back into his mouth and giving her full control. Teasing him, she traced his inner lips—first the top, then making her way around to the bottom never breaking the embrace. He moaned deeply as she explored the inside, finally playing with the tip of his tongue and allowing him to again push back into her mouth. She sucked on it, as if she was sucking on a lollipop, until she felt his now hard manhood rubbing against her thigh. She finally pulled back from the kiss, giving him one last peck on the lips before attempting to break free from his hold. She laughed a little and then looked off towards the street behind them. To her, it was a pretty good kiss.

Rich just held onto her tighter, eyes still closed. He felt as if he had just experienced the tip of heaven. Despite his extreme attraction to Jacy, Rich was trying hard to play it off as if she was just another girl he was seeing. But she wasn’t. He had only been with two types of women: hoodrats who opened their legs and asked for money, and weak easily manipulated women who were curious about dating a ‘thug.’ Rich’s personal motto when it came to women was ‘Bitches ain’t shit’ and he and his boys would regularly laugh and joke about the last ‘freak’ they had been with in shameless detail. But Jacy, she was different, he could tell off the bat from the moment he met her at Club Flow. She was wearing an outfit that was sexy and showed off her shape, but covered her body leaving plenty to the imagination. She had a bright white smile that he could see clearly in the darkness of the club. He approached her on the dance floor face-to-face looking her straight in the eyes and grabbing her by her hips. She just flashed that gorgeous smile and started dancing to the song that was on. She swayed with him for one more song after that and then turned around to tell him "It was nice dancing with you." He pulled her back before she could walk away and asked her if she wanted a drink? Could he get her number? She smiled and said maybe later, walking away. Rich just could not get the image of her smile and eyes out of his mind the whole night. He kept a close eye on her the rest of the night getting stingingly jealous whenever she danced with someone else, even when he was dancing with someone himself. Towards the end, he finally came up to her, cellphone in hand and demanded her phone number. He was not going to let this one go. Jacy, tipsy off of Martini after Martini, just ran off her number and smiled at him one more time before leaving the club with her friend.

As he talked to her on the phone and was around her more, he began to see that his earlier hunch about her was correct. She was different. Definitely not ghetto, but not bourgie either. She wasn’t naïve which he thought was very refreshing from a woman. She knew the game and the fact that he wasn’t a construction worker as he originally told her when they talked on the phone, whereas most college educated women her age would have fallen for that hook line and sinker. She knew how to play her position, but still didn’t accept any type of mess from him in the short time he had known her. He liked that. The hoodrats he usually dated acted hard in public but were still stupid enough to carry weight for him up from Virginia, his main connect, and allow him to smut them out on the first date, if there ever was one. He thought he had hit the jackpot with Jacy, she was a dime, smart, sexy, streetwise—the perfect wife. Maybe she could even help him get out of the game and move on to some type of legit business.

"Rich?" Jacy said tugging him gently on his arms. "Rich?" she said again louder. He had been caught up in his own thoughts for a moment but still had not let go of his grip on Jacy. The wine they drank at dinner had definitely had its effect on him. He had never had wine before that night, but he had let Jacy convince him to have a couple glasses of Cabernet Sauvignon. He liked the feeling it gave him.

"Yo, let’s go over my crib," he finally said loosening his hold and resting his hands on her shapely hips.

"I can’t, I have something to do later," Jacy said running the palm of her hands down his chest lightly. She was thinking about the plans she had later with Rachelle. She thought about what she was going to wear to the club. It was going on 10:30pm so she really had to hurry up and get changed.

"Doing what?" Rich said unable to hide the slight anger and disappointment on his face. He immediately assumed she was going to see some other guy, maybe even Terrell. I ain’t gonna be taking her out for dates then she go give another nigga the goods, he thought, burrowing his eyebrows at her.

"I’m going out with my girl."

"Oh. Well tell her you catch up with her another time. I wanna hang wit you."

"I can’t, I promised."

"What you don’t wanna be wit me tonight or something? I thought we was spending time."

"We are. I’ll hang out with you late another time. Besides, you’re just trying to bed me," she said smiling wide, pointing her finger at him as she teased.

"Awwww girl it ain’t even about that, you know," he said softening to her smile.

"Yea, OK," she said playfully rolling her eyes and smiling at him sideways.

"Listen, I want you to set aside Saturday, all day. I’m gonna take you downtown to do some shopping, we’ll eat and see a movie and all that, aiight?" Rich told her, not really asking.

"Umm. Alright, yea that’s cool."

"You cool? You need any money to go out?"

"I’m alright. But I could be better," she answered. She didn’t usually take money from guys she’d only known for a short time, because she knew what it meant. She knew what he was trying to do—lock her down before someone else could. But hell, she thought, I’m not seeing anyone else right now. Besides, she was finding herself becoming more sexually attracted to him as time went on and thought he would be a good brotha to pass the time with, for the time being.

Rich pulled out a wad of twenties and hundreds from his pocket peeling off 4 or 5 bills and sliding it into her back pocket.

"Gimme a kiss," he said putting his arms around her back again, pulling her to him.

"Thank you sweetie," she replied giving him a peck on the lips. She looked at him for a moment, studying his features. He was actually a pretty good looking guy with his low cut hair, white teeth and slightly slitted chocolate brown eyes. He just had an edge to his look that made him look very rugged. A long scar reached from below his chin to his lower neck. He had a low cut fuzzy beard that tickled her when she hugged him and a sly sexy smile, big juicy lips that leaned toward the right side of his mouth when he was up to something.

"I need to get back to my house and change," Jacy said finally breaking free from his embrace and walking to the passenger side of the car. Rich started moving to the driver’s seat.

"Aiight, why don’t you call your girl and tell her you’re on your way home?" he said still needing confirmation that she was in fact going out with a female.

"Yea let me do that," Jacy said pulling out her phone and getting into the car. She knew he only asked to see what her response would be. One thing about Jacy, it was a rare occasion if she ever outright lied to anyone over basic everyday things. She always kept it real and would only lie if it were a life or death situation.

"Chelle, I’m on my way home. I’ll be over there at about 11:30 alright?…No I’m about ten minutes away from home, I need to get dressed and take a shower…Alright. See you later," she clicked the end button on her phone and looked over at Rich who was faintly smiling that sly smile with his hand on his chin.