Don't Come Looking For Love

  Don't Come Looking for Love

  Natavia

  Don't Come Looking for Love

  Copyright © 2015 by Natavia

  www.shanpresents.com

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the author.

  Table of Contents

  Britain

  O'Shea

  Britain

  O'Shea

  Janae

  Britain

  O'Shea

  Janae

  Britain

  O'Shea

  Britain

  Yager

  Britain

  O'Shea

  Janae

  Britain

  O'Shea

  Carla

  Britain

  O'Shea

  Kenjay

  Britain

  O'Shea

  Britain

  Janae

  O'Shea

  Britain

  O'Shea

  Britain

  Kenjay

  Carla

  Britain

  O'Shea

  Britain

  O'Shea

  Kenjay

  O'Shea

  Britain

  Janae

  Kenjay

  Britain

  Kenjay

  Carla

  O'Shea

  Britain

  Kenjay

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  Britain

  June 20, 2006

  “Come on, Britain! Why are you always acting all stuck-up?” my best-friend Janae said to me.

  “I’m not going over Kenjay’s house! Y’all be doing too much over there!” I told her.

  “But it’s going to be fun! His mother is at work and his cute cousin, O’Shea, is over there! You know you like him!” she told me making me blush.

  O’Shea was the cutest boy I had ever laid eyes on but he didn’t pay me any mind. I was a chubby girl and in school they teased me and called me names. I didn’t let it get to me, though, because my mama always told me I was pretty. When I looked in the mirror, all I saw was natural beauty. I might be bigger than the thirteen-year-old girls my age but I didn’t care. The comedian Monique was my role model and if she could flaunt all of her thickness and get away with it, then so could I. Speaking of which, “The Parkers” marathon was coming on and I didn’t want to miss it.

  “I hear about all the things that go over there and I don’t want to get in trouble!” I told her.

  “Geraldine might be over Harry’s house getting high some damn where! Your mama is never home!” Janae snapped.

  My mama was a crack-head, I mean, a full-blown one. She broke into your house, stole gas out of your car. Go to Laundromats and steal clothes out of the dryers. Geraldine did it all but I loved her to death. She wasn’t the best mom but I loved her dearly. She would leave me in the house for days at a time but she always made sure I had something to eat and clean clothes. I never questioned my mama about where she got my clothes from, although I knew she stole them. She stole my name brand shoes, and clothes. I never went to school dingy or dusty, and for that, I was thankful because it could be worse.

  We lived in a crack-infested neighborhood. A lot of the kids around here whose parents smoke that stuff came to school any kind of way. A few days ago, a couple of houses down, two kids were killed. Tameka and her eight-year-old brother died from a house fire. Tameka’s mom had left her to take care of her brother for a week while she chased her high. Tameka, who was only ten years old, tried making them something to eat and she fell asleep with the stove on. Sad to say, she never woke-up.

  “So, what, Janae! I’m not going over there with those hot-ass girls!” I yelled at her.

  “I can’t go over there by myself! Please, just go this one time and I promise I will never ask again!” she pleaded.

  “Come on then!” I told her locking the door then walked down the street. School had been out for a few days so that only meant a lot of the neighborhood kids were more than likely over Kenjay’s house. Janae had a serious crush on Kenjay but they never got along. He was always cracking jokes about her, talking about how skinny and straight up and down she is. Janae was a year older than me and she still hadn’t gotten any of her boobs. She also looked way younger than me.

  Once we arrived, I became a bit skeptical because I didn’t like anyone from my school. O’Shea didn’t go to school with us, plus he was a year older than me. He only came to Kenjay’s house during the summertime. O’Shea’s father was a big-time drug dealer that came through the hood most times. He sent O’Shea to the best private schools I heard. My mama even washed O’Shea’s father’s Benz one time for ten dollars. The shit was embarrassing but there was nothing I could do about that.

  “Look what we have here! Well, isn’t it the number ten!” Kenjay joked making everyone laugh. He always cracked his jokes, but unlike everyone else, he was actually joking. Kenjay was just a clown like that. I actually liked him. Every time he saw us he said that because I’m round and Janae was skinny.

  “More like Ren and Stimpy!” Takera said. I couldn’t stand her at all! She was in all of my classes and all she did was say slick shit. She really had it out for Janae because of Kenjay. Rumor had it they were having sex.

  Janae rolled her eyes and didn’t say anything because she was a punk. She would talk mad stuff but as soon as someone said something to her, she got quiet. When they left the room, she would be talking again. If someone ever jumped me or anything, I would be on my own. She never even got into a fight before. I always had to stick up for her.

  “Leave her alone! Damn, you stay running your mouth!” O’Shea said to Takera. I knew for a fact O’Shea didn’t like girls my size because he liked Janae. I like a boy that likes my best friend.

  “What y’all over here doing?” I asked, plopping down on the couch making Takera fall onto the floor. They laughed. I might let comments slide but I was far from a punk. My mama might only weigh a hundred pounds but she would beat my ass if I let someone punk me.

  “We are ready to play spin the bottle!” Kenjay said. I looked at Rattle and frowned my nose up. His head reminded me of a rattlesnake tale the way it was shaped. That’s where he had gotten his nickname from. Rattle and Kenjay were best friends. It was Takera, Janae, Manessa and I, a total of seven of us.

  Manessa was friends with Takera but she was very quiet. She didn’t say much. I was honestly surprised that she even hung out with someone like Takera, who was nothing but a troublemaker.

  “I’m not trying to play that!” I said.

  “Stop acting all stuck-up all the damn time! It’s just a kissing game!” Kenjay said.

  It’s not that I was acting stuck-up. I didn’t to want to kiss Rattle if I ended up having to. He looked like one of my mama’s turds when she forgot to flush the toilet. Everyone knew crack-heads had the worst shits for some reason.

  I rolled my eyes then sat on the floor in the circle like everyone else. I looked at O’Shea and he was staring at Janae while she was staring at Kenjay. Kenjay is cute in a pretty-boy type of way. He has wavy hair and a nice complexion. I remember Janae telling me that his dad is Panamanian and his mother, Tammy, is mixed also. O’Shea is dark-skinned, with long cornrows that hang down his shoulders. He had on a Rocawear shirt, with jean shorts and the newest Jordan’s on his feet. His hair was styled in Allen Iverson braids.

  “You go first, Britain, since you all nervous or what not!” Kenjay said, handing me an empty Smirnoff wine-cooler bottle. I snatched the bottle from him then spun it, and when it pointed towards O’Shea, I got nervous. He loo
ked at me for the first time and smiled at me. I wasn’t expecting that since he had been drooling over Janae since we arrived.

  O'Shea

  Britain got up and walked towards Kenjay’s room. I followed behind her. Britain is not an ugly girl. She has a pretty face but she is a little on the big side. I wish it was Janae that spun the bottle. I don’t know what it is about Janae but she reminded me of the women my father cheated on my mother with. My father, Yager stayed cheating on her and she knew it. She didn’t care what he did. I know she didn’t stay because of his money because she had a good job. My pops explained to me what a gold digger was and my mother isn’t one. One day when I get older I might understand their weird relationship.

  I locked the door behind us and Britain looked nervous. I just wanted to get this over with and go back out in the living room.

  “Have you kissed someone before?” I asked her. I’m not new to any of this. I lost my virginity to a prostitute on my fourteenth birthday. My pops set it up and if my mother ever found out about this all hell would break loose.

  “No,” she said shyly. I walked up to her and grabbed her around the waist. She was shorter than me, so I had to bend down a little. I placed my lips onto her glossy ones. It smelled like bubble gum. I kind of peck her lips as her boobs were pressed against my chest. They gave me a different feeling. The girls my age are flat, almost similar to Janae’s boobs. Her body is very soft, so I grip her waist tighter, pulling her closer to me. I have never experienced this bubbly feeling before. I slip my tongue into her mouth and she sloppily sucked on it.

  My hands slid up her shirt and she froze. I couldn’t control my actions for some reason. There was something about her body pressed against mine.

  There was a knock on the door, “Come on y’all taking too long! Three minutes is up!” Takera said, blocking. She was only speaking up for Manessa because she was the one I talked to on the phone. Manessa is too quiet for me and I don’t like her like that. I really like Janae, but for some reason, Britain made me feel funny just now.

  I pulled away from her and she shyly turned her head. She had a mole on the top of her lip. Her hair was bushy-like and she always wore it out. Her Apple Bottoms shirt hugged her big breasts and her tennis skirt was showing her thick legs. She was definitely different than the girls around here and now I’m all of a sudden curious. She looked down at my shorts and her eyes got big. I was embarrassed because I had a hard-on. I didn’t want to walk out there like this.

  “I have to go!” she said, storming out of the door.

  “Oohhhhhh, what’s that?” Takera asked pointing at my hard-on. I walked past her and into the bathroom closing the door until it went down.

  Britain

  “Damn, Britain! Slow down, shit! You’re a party pooper! I almost had a chance kissing Kenjay!” Janae hollered, running behind me.

  “Your scared ass should’ve stayed then!” I snapped at her.

  I heard a bell ringing down the street and I was ready to get mad. Harry came on his old bicycle with my mama sitting in the basket in the front. She had a hoodie over her head and I just knew they were going to laugh at me. My mother was riding in the basket looking like E.T. I was ready to cry because everyone came out of Kenjay’s house to sit on the steps. I locked eyes with O’Shea then turned my head.

  “What you doing, Brownie?” my mama asked me. She called me Brownie because she said that’s where my weight came from. I loved eating brownies especially the ones my grandma used to make before she passed away from a heart attack.

  “Over a friend’s house! Mama, why are you on that bike like that?” I asked because people were looking at her. I looked down at her feet and one of her old Reeboks was missing. She had a long, yellow toenail coming through her dirty sock. I be wanting to cry at times because of my mama.

  “I was running from the police and Harry was riding past, so I hopped on. I done lost my fucking shoe!” she fussed as I helped her out of the basket.

  “Janae, you need to eat, shit! You look like you smoke what the hell I be smoking. All those pork chops and shit your mom pays me to steal for her and you still look like a fetus!” Geraldine said all loud, embarrassing Janae.

  “Why are you running from the cops? What you do this time? I hope a helicopter doesn’t shine those lights inside of my bedroom looking for you again,” I said on the verge of tears. I know she is a crack-head but if she gets arrested I will be in a foster home like the other kids from my neighborhood.

  When my grandma died a few years ago, she left us her house. I was raised in the house that we live in now. I’m happy we have someplace to live because I thought we were going to be homeless. My mother has two older sisters and a younger brother. They didn’t come around because she stole something from all of them.

  “Girl, hush up! No one is coming to look for me!” she said, looking over her shoulder and scratching her head. My mama will steal anything but hair. She has been wearing a small ponytail since I could remember. Then, she has the nerve to gel the edges down. No matter how high my mama got, she made time to brush her small ponytail and put on the pink lipstick she always wears. A tear slid down my face when I realized Geraldine had a knock-a-ball around her ponytail.

  “Don’t you start that shit, Brownie! I’m not in the mood! I done dropped my medicine running from them damn cops. One of those motherfuckers had the nerve to pull my damn ponytail! They know damn-well when they touch this Indian shit all hell breaks loose!” she fussed, walking toward our house.

  “I will see you later, Britain!” Janae said rushing off. My mama gives Janae a hard time sometimes. But, she always has something to say to anybody.

  “Crack-head, Crack-head!” Tookie our parrot said to my mama when I walked in the house.

  Tookie was my grandmother’s bird and now she belonged to us. I loved Tookie but my mom couldn’t stand her. Tookie picked up some of the things my aunts and uncle used to say about my mother when they were coming around. My mama goes into the fridge and gulps down some milk. I looked at her boney legs, dry skin, and yellow teeth and wondered why she couldn’t look like the kids’ moms that came to my school to pick them up.

  “What you looking at? Only God can judge me, Brownie!” she said. I know that sometimes she wants to stop but she has a real addiction that she can’t shake.

  “I know, Mama, you still the best mama a girl can have,” I said sadly. She glanced at me for a few seconds before throwing the milk carton in the trash.

  “What you doing over Tammy’s house anyway? Don’t think I didn’t see what direction you was walking from. I know you like Yager’s son, too! Don’t think I didn’t notice how you look at that boy! He ain’t going to be shit just like his bitch-ass daddy! I hate that nigga! If I could shoot that little-dick motherfucker I would!” she fussed.

  “Why do you wash his car then, Mama?” I ask.

  “Look at me! I don’t discriminate against no damn dollar! I will suck the Devil’s dick and his big toe in hell if he was paying me!” my mama stated seriously. She didn’t care what she said to me. She talked to me like a grown woman and, half of the time, I didn’t know what she was talking about. I guess she called it tough love.

  “When are you taking me to go see daddy?” I ask her.

  “Stop asking me about that special-ed, five teachers’, three students’, class having motherfucker!” she said with no remorse.

  My grandma told the story before she died about my parents. My father, Lenny, was a big-time drug dealer and my mom was a hustler’s wife. One night, on their way home from a party, they argued because she found out my father was cheating on her. He wasn’t paying attention to the road and they got into a terrible car accident. My father didn’t have on a seat belt and he went straight through the window. He was in a coma for six months and when he woke up, he wasn’t the same. He has the mind frame of a ten year old. My mama didn’t get hurt because she had on a seat belt. When she was checked out of the hospital that night she found out s
he was pregnant with me. My grandma also told me that since then, my mama hasn’t been the same. She started smoking a lot of weed and drinking when she was pregnant with me. I was born at six months, a premature baby. After I was born, I guess my mama turned into something stronger to ease the pain.

  My father wore a helmet and adult pull-ups because sometimes he has seizures and can’t control his body fluids. He was more like a little brother to me and didn’t understand that I was his daughter. My mom made fun of him and sometimes she didn’t care that she hurt my feelings.

  “Ma, stop talking about my daddy like that!” I snapped.

  “Whatever! Fuck that snotty-nosed, Roscoe-looking nigga!” she said walking out of the kitchen.

  My mother is only thirty-three and she looks like she is fifty years old.

  I went upstairs to my bedroom and took off my clothes to get ready for bed. I lay down in bed and thought about O’Shea kissing me like he enjoyed it. His private part was even pressed against my leg. I guess that was a good thing according to the girls around the neighborhood.