Free Black & Ugly by T. Styles Page B

continues, glancing at Parade.
    T. Styles
    77

    Triple Crown Publications presents . . .
    You ain't no different. You just ask for yours up front." In a crazy way, he has a point.
    "I feel you, Miss Wayne, but I'd really like to be alone right now."
    I hate seein' the looks on their faces, but they'll be worse if I attempt to entertain them because although I don't want to admit it, Ed really fucked me up and it's hard to shake the feeling of not being wanted.
    When people already know I trick and say it, I'm not fazed because it is what it is. But he believed I was a businesswoman. He believed I was a woman just doin'
    the damn thing until somebody, knowing about my past, hated on me. Maybe I should just be who the fuck I am and stop worrying about what people think.
    "Look, go in there for now and go to sleep. Let us take care of everything out here. Leave the door open, too," Miss Wayne continues, breaking me out of my thoughts. "We wanna get in there next." He pushes me toward my bedroom.
    "No, serious guys," I say as I walk out. "I really want to be left alone."
    "Bitch, get in that damn room," Sky yells. "We got this shit under control and you gonna thank us for it later, too."
    "Yeah get in the room, whore ." Miss Wayne laughs.
    He's trying to make light of something he knows is bothering me, but hearing the words leave his mouth still hurts. I walk into my room then lie on my bed feelin' bad about sleeping while they clean my house and for being bad company, but the sound of them moving 78
    T. Styles

    Black and Ugly
    around helps me go to sleep because I know they care about me, no matter what.
    T. Styles
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    Triple Crown Publications presents . . .
    9
    Sky
    THE NEWS HAS EVERYBODY STUCK. I wish I had never turned on the TV, but it won't change shit. First we were playing Taboo after cleaning Daffany's apartment. Now we are watching the results of a crime that I committed. Coming back into the living room I hear:
    "Sources are calling this a robbery gone bad.
    Apparently, the suspect attempted to rob the victim but killed her when she refused to comply. Sources also say Melony Walker was an active member of society, having contributed to six charities in the Washington, DC
    area by donating funds and volunteering her time. She is mourned by her husband, Tyler Walker, and infant son, Chandler."
    I abruptly turn the TV off before they see or hear more.
    "Why you do that?" they all scream.
    "'Cause we were playing a game, so let's play it."
    "But we were lookin' at that," Miss Wayne says.
    "I want to play the game," I whine, taking my orig-80
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    inal place on the couch. "We can watch TV at home."
    "I didn't know it was so serious," Daffany responds, remaining on the subject. "I wonder what happened," she continues as she looks over at me.
    I know she's wondering if I had anything to do with it. And since she knows I don't go for disrespect, she's probably sure I had everything to do with it. But I ain't sayin' or admitting to shit and Parade betta not either.
    "I don't know, but all I got to say is if she was so nice, she wouldn't've been at Donna's party. Everybody knows what pops off at her things," I observe.
    "What does that say about us?" Daffany asks. "We went, too."
    "You know what I mean."
    "No, I don't. So what ... she deserved to be killed?" Miss Wayne probes as he clutches the top of his shirt.
    "Please tell me you're not that cold, Miss Sky."
    "Wayne, stop being a drama queen. All I'm saying is that the media lies, and that people are soooo fake.
    Why is it that when a person's alive she gets on everybody's nerves but when she dies, she is sorely missed?
    It's bullshit!" I yell.
    "Did you know her, Sky, or are you sayin' it was okay for her to die? Because I don't understand what your point is," Daffany interrogates.
    "I'm not sayin' that it was okay for her to die, Daffany. Stop putting words in my mouth. I'm not sayin' shit about her deserving to die. I just know the media loves