I Use To Love You: A Hood Chick's Revenge by Shaun Wanzo

little looser. I was used to his game being much tighter than that. But then again a muthafucka could say that about me. Only a dumb bitch would go to a house where Ivan knew he could find me at.
    I ended the call with Adrienne geeked. At some point during the following day I know where to find Ivan and Kim K. I showered up and got dressed in a sky blue Pelle varsity jacket, a matching t-shirt and sweatpants. I slid my Mare Jacob shades on to protect my eyes from the beaming sun on my way out of the hotel. My strap and my iPhone were inside my Mare Jacob bag. At two o’clock in the afternoon it was a warm spring day. I put on a fake ass smile and said hello to the other guests I passed on the way to the Charger. None of them realized that I was a dangerous bitch on the loose. I was a bitch that was about to turn up the heat on everyone in my path.
     
    Another mistake I made was not getting the windows tinted on the Charger. What sense did it make for me to be trying to creep if everybody could see my yellow ass? So my first stop of the day was this popular shop in the Mil called Candy Rain. Expensive paint jobs, customized interior, stereo installation and anything else you might need done to a whip. I was plotting and scheming while I waited for them to finish hoking the Charger up with the five percent tint. I stepped out of the waiting area and walked out into the small parking lot when I came up with a way to get at Kim K. and Ivan at the same time. I took a deep breath and dialed Meka’s number. She was the only bitch I could call a friend, since Kim K. had stabbed me in the back and took my nigga.
    It was becoming obvious I wasn’t going to be able to kill Ivan and Kim K., get the money back, sell the dope and relocate without a little help here and there. Trusting muthafuckas while I was doing dirt went against everything I learned in the streets, that’s why my stomach was in knots while I waited on the bitch to pick up.
    “Hello?” Meka said, cautiously, probably wondering who the number belonged to.
    “What up bitch?”
    “Phat Kat?” It only took her a second to recognize my voice.
    “I need to come holla at you. Can you fit me in? My Mohawk is looking ratchet.”
    “I bet it is,” she said laughing.
    “So you’ll fit me in?”
    “Bitch you know I ain’t going to say no to you. Just come to the shop any time after four. We got a lot more to holla about than that nappy ass Mohawk on your head.”
    I paused. It wasn’t long enough for her to catch on, but I got a little nervous thinking about what she might know.
    “Bitch, what the hell are you talking about?”
    “Don’t play the role with me Phat Kat. You know it ain’t hard to keep up with the streets when you own a shop. And they’re sayin that Ivan and that wanna-be famous white bitch that you’re suppose to be so tight with, have been spendin a lot of time together.”
    I sighed. “I’ll holla at you about it when I get there.”
    “Yep,” Meka said, sounding a little disappointed.
    My blood was boiling by the time I ended the call. It wasn’t enough for them two phony ass muthafuckas to cut me out of the money and leave me for dead in Vegas. Now they were humiliating me in front of everybody. I marched back into the waiting area, cussing underneath my breath, wishing they would hurry the hell up with those damn windows.
     
    “You’re about the only bitch I know who could rock her shit with half her head completely bald and still be cute,” Meka said as she held the mirror up for me to check out her work. She had my shit freshly spiked at the top and the side of my head trimmed low like a throwback Halle Berry bob. I smiled at my reflection. Meka was right, there was not another bitch in Milwaukee County who could do that style like I was doing it.
    “Bad bitches always separate themselves from those basic hoes,” I said as we laughed. She took the mirror out of my hand and put it back in the drawer. “Here bitch, take yo