Free A Girl Like Me by Ni-Ni Simone

yourself in don’t disappear.”
    â€œShe said—” Mica gave me a toothless and nervous grin—“that you look real pretty.” And then he waved bye and smiled as they proceeded out the door.
    A few minutes later, I thought better about not giving Ny’eem any money, and that I’d slide twenty dollars in Aniyah or Sydney’s pocket, just in case…whatever just in case was.
    â€œWait!” I ran out the door and tried to catch up to them. But as I got to the front door of the building, they were nowhere in sight. “Dang!”
    â€œElite,” I heard a whisper float in my direction. “Elite.”
    I looked down and it was my mother’s boyfriend, Gary, crouched in the corner, with a lit cigarette shaking from the corner of his mouth. “Yo, let me hollah at you for a minute.”
    â€œIll, you better go hollah at a job and get the hell out my face!”
    â€œI got a job. That’s what I wanna talk to you about. You think you could loan me two dollars and twenty-seven cents so I can get back and forth to work next week?”
    â€œTwo dollars and twenty-seven cents? How did you even come up with that? Man, please.” I couldn’t believe it. Now Gary was asking me for money? “I can’t believe you’re asking me for money!”
    â€œWhat did he ask you?!” My mother stormed toward us, crossing the street to the front of the building.
    â€œWhere did you come from?” Gary stood up nervously. “I was just getting to know my daughter.”
    â€œYour daughter?! Ill. Not.” I frowned. My daddy might have been a scumbag, but he wasn’t this scumbag.
    My mother looked at Gary as if she could’ve sliced his throat. “These is not yo’ kids, Gary. You done gone crazy? Now,” she looked at me, “what the hell did he ask you?”
    â€œFor two dollars and twenty-seven cents,” I snapped.
    â€œYou asked my baby for some money?!” My mother started screaming, and the next thing I knew it was a full-fledged fallout. They were cussing and carrying on in the street, and the only words I could make out were, “How you gon’ ask my child for two dollars? You ain’t me!”
    That was my cue. Her bein’ extra with Gary must’ve been a weak attempt at an apology.
    Whatever.
    I ran back inside the apartment, grabbed my purse, and made sure the doors were all locked. Then I proceeded down the block to Naja’s house.
    Ten minutes later, I rang Naja’s bell and her grandmother came to the door. She stared at me like she could’ve slapped me into next week. “I know damn well you didn’t come to church dressed like that?!”
    â€œChurch?” I said, taken aback.
    â€œYeah, church,” she snapped. “God’s crib.”
    Oh…kay…
    I didn’t know whether to go in or to leave, so I stood in the doorway before deciding what to do. “Naja!” I yelled.
    She came running from the back. “Girl, what are you yelling for? The bell works.”
    â€œMom-Mom—” I pointed.
    â€œIt’s Sister Delicious,” Mom-Mom snapped. “Didn’t I just tell you it was Sunday?”
    â€œMa!” Naja yelled as she walked to the door and I stepped in.
    â€œWhat is it?” Neecy responded.
    â€œCome get Mom-Mom.”
    Neecy walked into the living room wearing a robe and rollers in her hair.
    â€œOh…my…God,” Mom-Mom said. “I know damn well,” she pointed at the TV screen with Creflo Dollar on full blast, “you ain’t come in here amongst all these church folk dressed like a tramp. I told my son you was a heathen.”
    â€œOh…kay…” I mumbled to myself, wondering why I’d left my own house.
    â€œMom-Mom,” Neecy said as she grabbed her hand, “Oprah is looking for you.”
    Oprah?
    â€œI don’t speak to Oprah no more,” Mom-Mom said.