by Carrie
Diary of A Rich Girl – Chapter 79
“No. I’m not embarrassed by it.” He said, “You’re a pretty girl.” “Thank you.” “You’re welcome.” “So you want some pot.”
He reached under the table and took out a nice ounce. “Smell it.” I did. “That’s good shit, ain’t it?” It certainly was. I reached for it, but he put his hand in the way. “You agree that if you want something you got to pay for it, do something to make the exchange equal? I just can’t go around give this shit away. You dig?” It sounded funny, but I said it anyway, “I dig.”
I took out whatever money I had and showed it to him. “No. Like I said, that ain’t enough. But that don’t mean we can’t figure something out. You and me, I believe, can come to some kind of agreement. That is if I can trust you…I can trust you?” My tongue stumbled, “Of course you can.”
He went on, “You ever been with homie before?” “You mean like, in sex?” He looked at me, “What else could I mean?” I sort of shrugged. “That a yes or a no?” It was a yes. He said, “I see, you ain’t no racist?” “Of course not.” He said, “I didn’t think so. Nice Liberal girl like you knows better than to be that.”
He opened the bag of pot then set it on the table. “All that allowance stuff is bullshit. Girl like you want something, she gonna get it. That is if she really want it. You can show your moms that you is the boss not her. You be the one in charge of your life. You dig?” “I dig.”
He pressed my button. I hated mother bossing me all the time. All the girls I knew hated their mother’s doing that. They all thought we were dumb teenagers. “You got to rebel. Stand on your own. You’re a pretty girl. You know that? Real pretty.”
Sure I knew it. He said, “Use what you got. Be smart, you get what you want. Ain’t nobody can take it away…You dig?” I half assed nodded, not too sure what he was getting at.
Then I greedily watched him roll a joint. He took his time, licking it at both ends and searching for the right match. He struck it and inhaled. Then he blew out. “Oh yeah, this is good shit. Real good shit.” Then he passed me the joint.
I took several long good hits. He said, “Take your time. This one is on me because of your fi-nancial situation.” I handed it back to him.
“So you want some?” I couldn’t have said yes faster. “Good. I know you like to feel good.” He took a long toke and continued, “Sex feels good, too.” I nodded in silence. My eyes were half shut. I felt as smooth as silk inside.
“What’s your name?” I told him. He said, “Very pretty. Like you. Pretty girl with a pretty name. Sweet and pretty. You look like candy.” No guy ever talked to me like that, so direct. “So you fucked a niggah once?”
I was shocked that he used the ‘n’ word, but nodded that I had. There was a tinge of excitement in his voice, “How’d it happen?” I said, “I met him after school. He worked at the bicycle shop on Lexington Avenue. He asked me out.” “Just like that?” “No. I said no at first.” “Why, cause he was a niggah?”
“No, because, well, he was outside my circle of friends.” “So he was a niggah.” I said, “Being black did have a very small part in it.” “You bet your sweet little ass it did. Go on.” I said, “I kept on having problems with my gear changes and, well, I one day I realized that I thought he was nice and I when he asked me out I said I would.”
“I see. How long you and him gone out?” I said, “A couple of months.” “And all your friends knew?” I said, “They thought it was cool. You know. I mean we’re all Liberals. That kind of stuff is cool.”
He said, “You didn’t sleep with him right away?” I said, “No. We went to a movie and we started to make out and stuff.” “I see. You let him feel you up?” “Yes.” He asked, “When did the big thing happen?” I said, “After a few weeks.” “You didn’t do it in the movie place?” I said, “No. He felt me up in the park. And, well, I let him unbutton my jeans.” “Unbutton your jeans?” “I let him finger me.” “Then what?”