Free Envy by Noire

“Flex’s black ass is crazy. He’s almost as bad as G. I gotta find someplace else to go.”
    Rita looked real sad on the camera.
    “I’ll keep working on it. It’s just that everybody I know and trust is right here in Harlem. Which is exactly where you don’t wanna be seen.”
    “How’s Nooni?” I asked. “I’m sorry, girl. I’m over here complaining when I shoulda been asking about your sister.”
    Rita shrugged.
    “I haven’t heard anything from her or anybody else. Dutchy still has a few eyes on the G-Spot, though. We’re just watching and waiting, and praying too. But really, it’s their move.”
    I heard that. I had somebody waiting on me to make a move, too. Earlier that day Flex had handed me a large box that had a dope three-thousand-dollar Fendi dress inside. It was a classy cut, in a beautiful shade of emerald green, and inside the big box was a smaller box that held a pair of cute diamond earrings and a platinum tennis bracelet. He had already bought me a couple of pairs of jeans and some cute tee shirts, but this was something way different.
    “What’s all this for?” I asked him. I was getting used to him sporting a different tailored suit everyday, but I hadn’t worn anything this fancy in a minute. “We going somewhere?”
    Flex just grinned and shook his head.
    “Nah, baby. We ain’t gotta go nowhere special for me to wanna put you in finery, Juicy. All this is for us , baby. I’m looking good for you, and I want you to look good for me too. It ain’t about nobody else.”
    That shit creeped me right out. Flex was like a weird-ass kid trying to play big man. I wasn’t about to get all dressed up just to watch movies in his basement. It had been over a week since I’d gotten out of jail, and I hadn’t been above the ground not one single time.
    “That’s okay,” I had said, turning down his gift and handing him back the box. He could keep that shit. The last thing I wanted Flex to think was that we was some kind of Bonnie and Clyde couple. “I’m good. Thanks, though.”
    He stared at me real hard, then started spitting like a maniac but real quiet-like.
    “You know what? You’s a ungrateful bitch, Juicy. You don’t appreciate nothing a niggah try to do for you! Look at all the shit I got for you! You got everything you need right here. Everything. If you want something I ain’t got, then just tell me and I’ll go out and get that shit!”
    I fixed his skinny black ass.
    “I want a phone charger , Flex. I need my phone so I can make some calls. Can you go out and get me that?”
    “You know,” he pouted and straight igged my request, “I could be one of them sorry muh’fuckas who just gets up in your pussy and treats you like a hoe, but no. I’m treating you like a lady, Juicy. Like a real lady. And you don’t even ’preciate that shit.”
    “I do, Flex,” I insisted. “You like a little brother to me, and I appreciate everything you been doing. I just need a phone charger so I can use my phone.”
    His face got real twisted. “I ain’t your fuckin’ brother, Juicy. I ain’t trying to be your brother.”
    I sucked my teeth. “Okay then. I just don’t wanna get dressed up to sit around and watch you play no damn video games.”
    I walked back into my room and turned on the television, but I wasn’t hardly watching it.  
    Instead, I was thinking. There was a time when I had been real stupid and naïve, but I wasn’t any more. I saw where Flex was going with all his crazy bullshit. I saw exactly where he was trying to get me. In a corner. In a box. In a small little space where only he had access to me. A space that only he controlled.
    But it wasn’t happening. The days when I let a niggah hem me up in his fantasy were over. Flex might be throwed off, but if he pushed me hard enough I could get throwed off too. The next time he unlocked that basement door I was going out with him. There were plenty of knives in Flex’s kitchen, and I didn’t care what