She Used to Be the Sweetest Girl Page 2

  Shemel cruised through the city, stopping in various places to serve his customers. He was cruising because if he ever got pulled over, he was going straight to jail, no questions asked. He had everything from weed, pills, lean, and even coke in the whip. Only reason he would get pulled over is because he’s a black male. Other than that, he was good. His insurance was paid up for the year and his tags were up to date. His pops had always told him, as long as he was riding legit, he could pretty much get away with whatever, so he wasn’t tripping about the amount of illegal substances he had left… only the money that continued weighing his pocket down.

  Four hours and forty-five hundred dollars later, Mel pulled up to the address his mama texted him and shut his truck off. Pierre was ringing his line, but he already knew what he wanted, so he declined the call and slipped his phone in his back pocket. Walking up to the door, blowing his warm breath onto his hands, he rang the doorbell and waited. He had heard a lot about Mrs. McQueen over the years, but had never met the lady in person.

  “Look at you, as handsome as you want to be! Come in, come in,” Mrs. McQueen said, holding the door open.

  Mel stepped in the warm home and looked around. The sweet smell of something baking invaded his nostrils, making him lick his lips at the delicious smell.

  “How are you, Mrs. McQueen? I’m Shemel, Tamika’s son,” he said, extending his hand for her to shake.

  “Boy, you better give me a hug. I haven’t seen you since you were little. And call me Mrs. Carla,” she said, pulling him into a hug.

  Shemel hugged her back, awkwardly, not really knowing what to do. She was the same height as his mama and he towered over her. He pulled back, smiling at her hospitality.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t remember you. How long you been knowing my moms?” he asked, as they walked into the kitchen.

  “Me and yo mama go way back. She used to bring you and your brothers up to the hospital all the time before she stopped working there. I can’t believe you’re this grown. How old are you now?”

  “Twenty-five,” he answered, looking at the beautifully designed cupcakes in the tray.

  “Ooh, that is right. You were always a year older than my baby,” she said, closing the box to the sheet cake.

  “Why she have you make all these cupcakes? Amani only turning six,” he asked, laughing.

  “I didn’t make all these; my daughter did. And you know Tamika go all out for that grandbaby of hers.”

  She wasn’t lying. Tamika spoiled all of her grandkids, but Amani was her baby. She was the oldest grandchild, and anything she wanted, she got.

  “You ain’t lying,” Mel said, laughing.

  Just as he reached into his pocket to pull some money out to pay for the cakes, Brix waltzed into the kitchen.

  “Ma, are they here to pick up the cakes yet? I need to go some—” she stopped talking and covered her mouth. She was not prepared to walk into the kitchen and see the guy she ran into last night, standing in front of her.

  “Brix, where are your clothes? We have company,” her mama said, looking down at her attire. She was wearing spandex shorts that showed off every curve of her short frame and a cami, leaving nothing to the imagination. Mel grinned as he eyed her nervous expression. Her eyes grew wide, and he was now more than happy to have come and picked the cakes up.

  “I am so sorry. I did not expect for someone to be down here, especially you,” Brix said, tugging on her shorts that kept navigating their way into her crotch area.

  “Especially me? That’s no way to greet the man who helped you out last night,” Mel said, smiling. He could tell she was nervous and loved the innocent look she gave him.

  “Wait, you two know each other?” Mrs. Carla asked, looking back and forth between the two as they stared at one another.

  Running her hands through her long mane, Brix tried to calm her nerves. Shemel was fine as ever to her, and the last thing she wanted to do was show the lust she felt radiating from down below. Get it together, she said to herself before responding to her mama.

  “No, well yes, kind of. He helped me yesterday when I couldn’t reach the top shelf,” she answered, still looking him in the eyes. Mel licked his lips and she quickly directed her attention toward another area of the kitchen. Why’d he have to go and lick those juicy lips? she thought to herself.

  “Such a gentleman. My baby knows she short,” Mrs. Carla said, laughing.

  “It was no big deal, seeing as though she thought I was one of the employees. I was just doing my job,” Mel said, chuckling. He found it funny that she thought he worked there. Shemel didn’t mind the nine to five grind, but ever since he worked at McDonald’s in his younger days, he vowed to never deal with rude ass customers again. In his defense, his customers on the street were crazy too, but if they ever got out of line, he’d get ‘em in check quick.

  “You had on a blue shirt just like them. That wasn’t my fault,” Brix said, smiling.

  Like he was stuck in the twilight zone, Mel stared hard at Brix, wishing he could be the one to put a smile on her face.

  “Nah, it wasn’t. How you doing though? I’m Shemel,” he said, stretching his hand out for her to shake.

  “Nice to meet you again. I’m Brix,” she replied, shaking his hand softly before running it through her hair again.

  “Bricks. Damn, that’s sexy,” he said, biting his lip.

  “Thank you. It’s spelled with an X. Not like the ones you build with,” she said, blushing. She had always loved her name, but no one else seemed to. It was original and she thanked her parents every day for not naming her anything basic.

  “Um um. I am still standing here,” Mrs. Carla said, clearing her throat.

  The two broke their gaze and turned their heads toward her. They had forgotten all about her standing there. That’s just how focused they were on each other.

  “Now, what were you saying Brix? You had somewhere to go?” she asked, looking at her daughter in amusement. She knew she was feeling the young man and couldn’t do anything but smile. He was definitely something to be star struck over.

  “I uh, I was going to meet up with Carissa since I finished all my orders for the day,” Brix answered while grabbing the cupcakes. She was ready to get out of the kitchen. Not only was she still hot from just getting out the shower, but also her body temperature had risen to another level from lusting over Shemel.

  “Oh okay. You gone put a jacket on before walking outside, aren't you?” her mama questioned while Shemel grabbed the other cake to carry.

  “It shouldn’t be that cold out; I’ll be fine,” she replied, then walked toward the front door.

  Not far behind, Shemel watched as her backside moved in the tight shorts and he shook his head. The long coat she was wearing yesterday hid all of her curves and he would have never guessed baby girl was packing like that. They reached his truck, placing the boxes on the floor, then shutting the door.

  “How much do I owe you?” Mel asked, pulling a thick wad of money from his pocket.

  Brix’s eyes widened, but she quickly regained her composure, not wanting to seem new to seeing that much money at one time.

  “One-thirty,” she said, taking a step back.

  Mel peeled off three, hundred dollar bills, and tried to hand them to her, but Brix shook her head.

  “That’s way too much.”

  “Nah, I appreciate you coming through for my lil’ shorty. You deserve a little something extra, huh,” he said, taking her hand and placing the bills inside.

  Brix closed her hand and sighed deeply. “All those cupcakes are for your daughter? Those kids are going to be so hyper,” she said, smiling.

  “Nah, they for my niece. Why you always assuming?” he asked laughing. “First, I work at Walmart, now a nigga got a kid. Very stereotypical, don’t you think, Ms. Brix?”

  The way Shemel said her name made her shudder inside. It rolled off his tongue like he had known her all his life and adored saying her name out loud.
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  “Not at all… I just… well, you know,” she shrugged, while chuckling nervously.

  “It’s all good beautiful. Good looking out. Don’t catch no cold out her trying to be cute,” he said, hopping in the driver’s seat.

  Brix blushed at his comment, but she wasn’t cold at all. The breeze was feeling good against her warm skin. It was just what she needed to calm her nerves.

  “I’m sure I won’t. Hope you guys enjoy the cakes,” she said, moving out the way so he could close his door.

  “I don’t eat cake, but I’m sure it’s good. You made ‘em, right?” he said, after rolling his window down.

  “You already knew that,” Brix answered, walking backwards up the driveway.

  “I did,” he answered, laughing. “Just fucking with you. You be easy,” he said, rolling the window up, backing out the driveway.

  Brix watched from the doorway as he pulled off down the street. She didn’t know who Shemel was, but he had definitely caught her attention. Unbeknownst to her, Shemel was thinking the same thing.

  Three

  “What is wrong with you girl?” Carissa, Brix’s best friend asked curiously. They were out for drinks at Big Louie’s, and Brix hadn’t even touched her glass, which was weird to Carissa because Brix loved their drinks. Especially, during happy hour.

  “Sorry, I’m just zoned out,” Brix replied, smiling.

  “Obviously. What got you in such a good mood today?” Carissa asked, not being able to control her smile. She and Brix had been friends going on ten years. They grew up in the same neighborhood together, their birthdays were a week apart, and their mothers were best friends. Carissa knew Brix had been through a lot, and she was always in a good mood, but today, something was different about her. She had met someone and her best friend planned to find out who the guy was.

  “This guy I met at Walmart last night, just so happened to be one of my customers. He stopped by the house earlier and was looking so good. I haven’t been attracted to anyone like that since Drew,” she said, finally taking a sip from her glass. The sweet taste of the Amaretto Sour hit the spot perfectly, making her raise her hand to order another.

  “Sooo, what’s his name? Did you at least get his number?” Carissa asked, grinning. She knew Brix would never be that bold to do something like that, but decided to tease her anyway.

  “Uh, no. It’s bad enough I had on little to no clothes. What would I look like asking for his number? I wouldn’t even go there. His name is Shemel though. Never heard of him, but he is fine,” she uttered, while shaking her head.

  “Shemel? Like Shemel Wright?” Carissa asked excitedly.

  “Not sure of his last name, Carissa. You know him or something?” Brix said, chuckling.

  “Girl, there aren’t too many damn Shemel Wright’s in St. Louis. I swear, if you’re talking about Young Mel, I’mma hit you.”

  “Now you lost me. Who in the world is Young Mel?” Brix asked, clearly confused. She wasn’t sure why Carissa was acting like this guy was a celebrity, but was interested in learning more about him.

  “Brix, Young Mel is that rapper I was telling you about. He is nice with the words girl. He gone make it far in the game,” Carissa said, bobbing her head to an inaudible beat. Yes, they were best friends, but were total opposites when it came to men, music, food; hell, just about everything. That didn’t matter though. They were so close, people were always mistaking them for being sisters.

  “How do you know this is the same person? He could be someone else,” Brix said.

  “I highly doubt that. Does he have dreads?” Brix nodded her head. “Really tall, has a nice smile, drives a black Yukon truck?” With every question, Brix nodded her head.

  “Welp, there you have it. You done fell in love with a dope boy,” Carissa said, laughing.

  “Dope boy? I thought you said he was a rapper?” Brix asked, scrunching up her face. She was so confused it didn’t make sense.

  “Oh my God. C’mon on now, Brix. You must stop hiding under that rock you call your room. His family is the biggest drug lords around, especially that damn Pierre. He know he fine,” Carissa grinned, before biting into her sandwich.

  Brix sat there quietly, twirling her straw around in her glass. She didn’t care for the dope boys, the hood guys, or for who was doing what. Although she wasn’t aware of who Shemel was, listening to Carissa describe him, told her exactly what she needed to know. The stack of money he pulled out earlier just confirmed it all.

  “Oh well, so much for that. He was so respectful though. He didn’t even look like a dope boy. A rapper, now that you mention it, yes. Guess you can’t judge a book by its cover,” Brix said with a shrug of her shoulders.

  “Sure can’t. You don’t even know the man, B. He could be much more than what you’re trying to make of him.”

  “Much more of what? A rapper? Cool. Drug dealer? Eh. I’m not so sure I could handle that,” Brix replied, finishing off her second glass.

  “Whatever. Them thug niggas be the ones to turn yo ass out. You need a thug in ya life,” Carissa rapped, imitating Tupac.

  “Girl, gone. I’m perfectly fine by myself,” Brix said. It was somewhat the truth. After Drew up and left her, she had honestly given up on relationships and the whole love thing. She figured if she met someone, cool, she’d give it a try. Until then, she was going to remain focused on her.

  Later on that evening, pulling into the driveway, Brix sat in her car a few minutes before going inside. She looked toward the night sky and spoke to her daddy.

  “Hey, old man. How’s it going up there?” she asked, smiling. “I miss you so much daddy. Things aren’t the same without you here. Mommy is not the same, and the house just feels empty,” she said before taking a deep breath. The last thing she wanted to do was start crying. “That’s the main reason why I haven’t dated. No man can compare to you. I wish you had stayed around for a little while longer. You know, to give these men an example of how your baby girl should be treated. I know you’re in a better place though, so I can’t complain. I love you and I pray you continue to watch over me and Mommy,” she finished, then turned off the car and headed inside.

  Mrs. Carla was taking her seat back on the couch when Brix opened the door. She knew what her daughter was outside doing; she didn’t even need to ask. Both of their worlds had changed dramatically over the last two years, but they kept their faith and stayed strong.

  “Hey ma,” Brix spoke.

  “Hey baby. How was lunch with Carissa?”

  “Interesting as always. Did you know that Shemel guy is a rapper or whatever?”

  “Tamika has mentioned it to me. I didn’t know for sure though. Why you ask that?”

  “Rissa said he’s well known. Just wondering why I've never heard of him,” Brix said, really thinking. Sure, she listened to some rap music, but she didn’t think she was that out of the loop to not know who he was.

  “You're asking the wrong person. I'm about to head on to bed though. I have to be up early for church tomorrow," she said, standing up.

  "Can you wake me up to go with you?" Brix asked.

  "I will, but don’t get all grumpy cause you don’t feel like getting up," Mrs. Carla said, laughing.

  "I won’t, I promise. Goodnight, see you in the morning."

  The duo parted ways and called it a night. Well, Mrs. Carla did anyway. Brix was up on YouTube and SoundCloud, listening to "Young Mel" as they called him. Nodding her head to the beat as she chilled in bed, she said aloud, "Maybe I should step out of my comfort zone. What's the worst that could happen?"

  * * * * *

  “Aye, run that back for me real quick,” Mel told the producer.

  It was Sunday morning, 11 am to be exact, and he was in his zone. After leaving his niece’s birthday party, he came straight to the studio to prepare for a show he had coming up. He was laying the last verse down of a collaboration he was working on, and was ready to call it a night, well morning in his case. After being up
for forty-eight hours straight, he was dead tired, and knew he needed to get some rest. That’s what comes with this lifestyle, sleepless nights. The producer ran the track back and he started going in.

  “Cause I been grinding just to make a way, praying for them better days

  Niggas don’t wanna hustle, but they always want a second plate

  Got my mama up off uh section 8, man y’all shoulda seen her face

  I hustle for this money shit, and you niggas always come in second place

  Rest in peace to my hittas in the dirt and shout out to my niggas doing time

  Wish I could bring my folks home cause they why I’m on my grind

  We ain’t looking for no handouts, homie you’ll get clapped out

  Sleeping on my team uh make a nigga really sleep his thoughts out

  Bitch you see the Rolly on my wrist watch, them diamonds going tick tock

  Hell a freeze over if I ever let my wrist flop

  Stacking money in my spare time, ya bitch be on my main line

  But I don’t even fuck her though, unless she at least uh 9

  I woulda said a 10, but these bitches be fake as hell

  Want a nigga to wife ‘em up, but the only thing I trust is my scale

  Moving quiet through the back streets gripping on this fat heat

  I only roll with killas and they posted in the backseat

  Never gotta say much, I let my money speak for me

  Most you niggas hate me, but y’all baby mamas adooore me”

  He said that and all his people broke out in laughter. It was the truth though. The ladies loved them some Shemel Wright. Standing at 6’4, with smooth brown skin the color of a Reese’s cup, and long dreads that hung to the middle of his back, he wasn’t hurting at all in the looks department. What really won women over was his charm and ambition. No matter where he went or what he was doing, people flocked to him. At first, he thought it was because of who his family is, but when he started rapping and promoting his music, his fan base quickly grew. He figured with the way things were looking, he might as well branch off and take this rap shit seriously. A hustle is one thing, but when you are downright talented, you can’t help but to accept your gift.