Payback Is A Mutha. Wahida Clark

      After Brianna hung up the phone she dialed Yolanda, her hairdresser. “Landa, what’s up? This is Brianna.”

      “I know who this is.” She snapped. “What do you want? I have two bitches under the dryer, two at the sinks, the one in my chair and three waiting. You just came here two days ago, so no, I can’t squeeze you in!” Yolanda rattled off.

      Brianna sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes. “How do you know that’s why I’m calling?”

      Brianna was busted.

      “Hoe, I know you, so stop playing games. I told you I’m busy.”

      “Too busy for an eight-pack on top of what I usually pay?” Yolanda was thinking. Her regular fee plus an eight ball of coke? “Yeah. That’s what I thought.” Brianna snapped back. “What’s the best time to come?”

      “Be here at two, Brianna. Not two fifteen, two thirty. And bring my shit!”

      Brianna hung up without responding.

      She stood in front of the mirror as she pinned up her $1,200 weave. “Where should we go tonight?” she asked the mirror. It was Friday night, and she wanted to take full advantage of it. Her girl, Shan, loved the hip-hop clubs, but B’s first preference was anything where the real ballers hung, so she knew she had to choose the spot.

      Her and Shan had been friends since the third grade. Everyone thought that they were family. Shan was closer to Brianna than her own blood sister. Unforeseen forces bound them closer together, like when Shan’s parents were killed in that fatal car accident, and when Brianna got pregnant in the seventh grade and her mother put her out. They really leaned on one another. Even though Brianna lost the baby, her mother still wouldn’t take her back. When social services came and took Shan and her brother, Peanut, away, Brianna was homeless. When a relative came and rescued them from the group home, that’s when they took Brianna off the streets. Her mother didn’t allow her back home until she went to the tenth grade.

      Other than their copper complexions, they were night and day in just about every way. Brianna had those full pouty lips, while Shan had dainty sensuous ones. Brianna’s nose was full; Shan’s was a cute little button. Brianna’s onion screamed, “Goddamn!” Shan’s onion screamed, “Dayuum!” Brianna was tall and Shan was short. Brianna had to wear Gucci, Prada, and Chanel, while Shan preferred Sean John, Baby Phat, and FUBU. Brianna had the weave, fake nails, and boob job, while Shan had the locks, sported her real nails and refused to do the makeup thing. Brianna went to prison, while Shan now chose to work at a prison. Brianna lived large off the ballers, while Shan preferred the legit businessman or blue collar worker. Which is why everyone couldn’t figure out how they remained so close over the years.

      During Brianna’s eighteen month prison bid the only three people who stuck by her was Shan, Peanut and one of her sugar daddys by the name of Nick. He kept money on her books and allowed her to run up his phone bill. She had mad love for Nick but she had been out now for almost a year and he felt like she still owed him. Brianna had recently told him that she gave him enough pussy to consider her debt paid in full.

      Upon hearing the phone ring, Brianna snatched it up. “Hello.”

      “What up, B?”

      “You.”

      “You don’t even know who this is.”

      “Oh, I know who this is,” she teased. “There is only one Shadee.”

      “Act like you know, girl! I thought I was gonna have to tap that ass. I need to swing by later on.”

      “Around what time? I got a hair appointment and me and my girl is going out. Can you come before six?”

      “That’ll work.”

      “Be on time, please.”

      “I got you.”

      She sucked her teeth. “Yeah, right.” She hung up and immediately called Hook.

      When Hook answered Brianna said, “Okay, nigga, I don’t owe you nothing else. Your boy said he’ll be here around six, which means eight. So handle yours.”

      “Handle mines?” he asked, sounding pissed off. “We straight as long as it’s worth my while.”

      “Look nigga, that ain’t got shit to do with me. I called you and it’s on so now we are even. Ya heard?”

      Hook didn’t say anything for a minute. “Bitch, it’s over when I say it’s over! Ya heard?”

      Brianna sighed as she slammed down the phone. “How in the fuck did I ever get involved with a sorry, punk ass nigga like that?” she said through clenched teeth.