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  CHYNA BLACK

  This is a work of fiction. The authors have invented the characters.

  Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  If you have purchased this book with a 'dull' or missing cover---You have possibly purchased an unauthorized or stolen book. Please immediately contact the publisher advising where, when and how you purchased this book.

  Compilation and Introduction copyright (c) 2004 by Triple Crown Publications

  2959 Stelzer Rd., Suite C

  Columbus, Ohio

  www.TripleCrownPublications.com

  Library of Congress Control Number:

  ISBN# 0-9762349-1-

  Cover Design/Graphics: www.apollopixel.com

  Author: Keisha Ervin

  Editor: Kathleen Jackson and Amy Karnes

  Production: Kevin J. Calloway

  Consulting: Vickie M. Stringer

  Copyright (c) 2004 by Triple Crown Publications.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher, except by reviewer who may quote brief passages to be printed in a newspaper or magazine.

  First Trade Paperback Edition Printing December

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3

  Printed in the United States of America

  Dedications

  I dedicate this book to the people who believed in me most while they were here on this earth - my grandmother, Claudia 'Pat' Poe, and my grandfather, James Garfield Ervin. Also I dedicate this book to all the young women who are still struggling to find themselves throughout all the day to day drama that life brings.

  Acknowledgements

  Lord, when you gave me the words to write Me & My Boyfriend I had no idea that my life would change so drastically. I sit in amazement everyday at how much you have blessed me with. There is no way that I can ever doubt you and your ability to change lives. That's why I decided to make my second novel a testimony of my life. Your love is what has brought me through and I will continue to praise and believe in you. Thank you for making this past year the best year of my life.

  To my handsome, chocolate baby Kyrese, there are no words in the English vocabulary that describe how much I LOVE YOU.

  You are my reason for living and for everything that I do. My constant source of inspiration, I love you.

  Momma, you have helped me so much this past year. From watching Kyrese to helping me out financially you have been there for me. I don't know what I would ever do with out you. I love you momma.

  Daddy, I still don't think that you get what's going on but you'll catch on eventually. I love you!!!

  To my brother Keon, I hate that I haven't seen you in over a year. When you gone bring you big head ass home? Carlie, I know we don't talk much but you're still my sister and I love you.

  Okay here we go first off to the Poe family which consists of Donald, Ronald, Lisa, Maggie, Nicole, Chantell, Tori, Matthew, Nicolas, Christian, Timothy, Tyler, Kai and Kayla thank you all for being my biggest supporters throughout this entire thing. Ya'll have truly represented!!!

  To the Ervin family I want to give a shout out to Granny, Aunt Jean, Uncle Bruce, Uncle Sam, Aunt Denise, Charlene, Dorcia, Chris, Man, Lil Bruce, Becky, Aaron, Q, Michael, Deja, Lil Deja, Jamahl, Tre, Gabrielle and Quemira.

  To my extended family which includes Hattie Westbrook, Angela, Asia, Aaron, Michael and the entire Blackshear family, I love you and thanks for all the support.

  To my dearest and closet friends: Alocia Roberston, you know that we have been friends since we sported Jodeci boots gurl. I love you!

  What up cousin I'm putting us on the map dog. Thank you Tavia for being one of the most honest and trustworthy people that I know.

  Miesha Ervin, you are my sister in Christ and I love you.

  Whenever I have needed you and Kevin ya'll have been there. I depend on you and our talks because you keep my head on straight when I'm about to head down the wrong path.

  Jackie you are one ride or die chick gurl.

  Monsieur Pascal aka Monique, thank you for helping me through one of the toughest times in my life. I will never forget how you cared for me when most didn't. My prayers and love go out to you and your mom.

  Kevin, whether or not things work out between you and I, know that I love you for everything that you have brought to my life.

  Debbie, thank you for coming into my life and for all the times that you helped me when it came to Kyrese.

  Kelin, you will always be one of my closet friends. You just gotta quit letting certain people run your life.

  Miss Danielle Santiago, keep writing gangsta stories and rocken the latest fashion. Do yo thang momma!!

  Lisa Gibson-Wilson, you are the best manager and mentor that I will ever have. I really admire and look up to you. Thank you for being the DIVA that you are!!!

  Last but not least to my DOG, PARTNA, HOMEY, and FRIEND TuShonda Whitaker, I never would have thought that you and I would become friends. But God puts people in our lives for a reason, a season or a lifetime. And I truly believe that you will be a lifetime friend to me. I love you gurl and we will continue to dust the dirt off of our shoulders together.

  Hey Sandy, Miss Danielle, Ms. Marie, Kelly, Arnina, Mrs.

  Robertson, Lonnie, Robin, Keith, Ron, Miss Harris, Mr. Harris, Miss Cole, Mr. McClain, McKinley and Miss Dalton, thank you for being such good friends to me and my family.

  Big ups to Miss Linda, Janea Snipes, Tiara, Sherry, Tory, Tara, Stephanie, the two Nicoles, Bob, Ray, Daryl, Chris, Barbara Jean, Tray, Shanerian, Cynthia, Dallas, Ms. Roberts and Lando.

  Thank you Big D for believing in me before you even knew what my project was about.

  Thank you Renaissance Management Company, Marcus & Stacy at Ujamma, Bill Beene at St. Louis American, Lime Light Newspaper, Florissant Valley Community College, Queen Isis at Q 95.5, all the Walden Book Stores, Barnes & Noble, Amazon.com, Tammy, Kevin, Karl & Steve at TCP, Joylynn Jossel & the other TCP authors, Anthony Clair, and most importantly, my city St. Louis for supporting and representing for me. I love my city and I will always rep for you!!!

  To Triple Crown Publications for pushing my book and making sure my career started off with a bang. The office staff that handles my affairs on a regular, the seen and unseen - if I never meet you, nor acknowledge your work and effort, please know that I appreciate what you do.

  Thank you from the bottom of my heart, Vickie Stringer, for publishing and putting my work on the shelf. You are one hell of a woman to put up with all of us crazy ass authors.

  R.I.P Daryl, Aunt Sheryl, Abbie, Daddy Cole and Uncle Chester.

  Nelly come holla at a playa!!!!

  Chyna Black

  Contents

  CHAPTER 1 JUST TO GET BY

  CHAPTER 2 I WANNA SEX YOU UP

  CHAPTER 3 CAN'T TOUCH THIS

  CHAPTER 4 JUICY

  CHAPTER 5 THE BEGINNING

  CHAPTER 6 SINCERELY YOURS

  CHAPTER 7 CAUGHT UP IN THE RAPTURE OF LOVE

  CHAPTER 8 GAME RECOGNIZE GAME

  CHAPTER 9 SUCKA 4 LOVE

  CHAPTER 10 THE MIDDLE

  CHAPTER 11 COME AND TALK TO ME

  CHAPTER 12 IF YOUR GIRL ONLY KNEW

  CHAPTER 13 BREAK UP 2 MAKE UP

  CHAPTER 14 DANCE WITH THE DEVIL

  CHAPTER 15 THE END

  CHAPTER 16 FOR THE GOOD TIMES

  CHAPTER 17 STRAIGHT PLAYED

  CHAPTER 18 STARTING OVER

  CHAPTER 19 ME, MYSELF AND I

  CHAPTER 20 THE BEGINNING 2 THE END

  CHAPTER 1

  JUST TO GET BY

  All my drama began when I was fifteen, that's the year that I came out of my shell and broke loose. All of my womanly curves
came alive and all of the old heads were peepin' me out.

  It kind of disgusted me at first, but eventually I got use to it. I had a banging body to be only fifteen years old. My face was inno-cent, but that was about it. Shit, by the time I was ten, I was in a C-cup bra. I'm seventeen now and my cup size had grown to a Double D, and with my small waist and apple bottom, all the fellas were screaming, "Drop it like it's hot!" By the age of fifteen, I had taken notice of what my assets were. I had it going on if I do say so myself, shit I still have it going on. My stock was high and niggas in every hood wanted to invest. My girls, Asia and Brooklyn, and I had all the niggas sprung, every playa in the hood wanted a piece of at least one of us. None of us were fucking yet, so that made them want us even more.

  I was all about looking good and partying. Asia, Brooke and I were always getting into something. Whether it was a house party, skating, riding around getting blazed or hanging out at home, we always had fun. We had all been tight since Kriss Kross made you "Jump" and SWV had niggas "Weak" in the knees. We were inseparable, whenever you saw one of us, you knew the other two were not far behind. We were known as the ABC click, Asia, Brooklyn and Chyna, and we got hollered at on a daily basis by ballers and bums.

  At the time, I had just learned what a women's body did to a man. Hell, a lick of the lips, switch of the hips and a little thigh, could get you a lot. Getting a young boy to pay for my hair and nails was a lot back then to me. Shit, I had this one dude tricking his hard earned part-time McDonald's money to me every Friday. No money, no play was my motto. You got to pay to play, so fuck what ya heard. He knew not to even talk to me if my money wasn't in hand. Don't hate, I was bout it, bout it, that's just how I rolled.

  In this world, money talks so you had to pay to be with me.

  I wasn't some old broke down chick. Hell no, I was an exquisite piece of china and if you didn't know how delicate I was then you could step. I was like a B.E.T award, you had to trick mad money to have me on your arm, ya dig.

  Fuck a nigga and a relationship cause love don't mean a damn thing to me. You see I'm a product of high school sweethearts gone wrong. My parents broke up before I was born. My momma Diane and daddy Cedric, had my brother when they were just teenagers. My brother, Cantrell and I rarely see each other these days, he's probably somewhere in Atlanta waving the Gay Pride flag, so that leaves me to live alone with my mother, Diane.

  My dad and I have never been close. He tries to be a good father but he always falls short. The fact that he's never gotten over my mother makes him bitter towards me because he sees her when he looks at me. That, mixed with the amount of liquor he consumes each day, doesn't help.

  Growing up on the Northside of St. Louis, there was always something poppin' off. There wasn't anything better than sum-mertime in St. Louis. I remember everybody waiting patiently on their front porch for the bum pop man who had this one particular truck that everybody brought from, it was green and had all of the hood treats. That man had everything from twenty-five cent bags of chips, sundaes, candy bars and pickles to cigarettes, and he could make some bomb ass cherry snow cones. My grandma, whom we all called "Pat", would have me snatch her up two cold Pepsi's. She loved her some Pepsi, no other bever-age compared in her eyes. Diane is like that now, after years of drinking Coca-Cola.

  Pat was a cool ass grandmamma and I tend to think I get my demeanor from her. Even though hard times constantly knocked on her door, she never lost her composure. Pat never judged you no matter what your hustle was. What you did was your business, but if you asked for her opinion, you were sure to get it.

  It's sad because, like me, she had issues with her own mother. My great grandma, Gloria, treated her like shit. Gloria made it well known that her oldest son, BJ, was her favorite. Gloria never once told Pat that she loved her. I learned this through one of their many arguments. Old and senile, she denied it but I knew it was true. The old woman was a very bitter and manipu-lative person. Even though Pat took her in after she succumbed to blindness, she still treated her badly.

  Besides having Diane, Pat had four other kids. Diane was the oldest of the five children. There was Derrick, twins Cory and Tory and Lauren. Diane was the only one who had a different daddy and she never knew his name or what he looked like. The rest of Pat's kids had a darker skin complexion, and their father was a man who didn't do shit for his kids either. He had another family, so to him Pat's kids didn't exist. Pat took care of her kids by any means necessary. The lights, gas or electric may have been turned off every now and then, but they survived.

  Diane was the bookworm and loner of the five and I see why she's such a control freak now. Derrick was the wild child, a thrill seeker. For Cory and Tory to have been twins, they had absolutely nothing in common. Tory was this black Vinnie Barbarino/TD Jake type brother. He used to rock suits with a briefcase to school. Cory, on the other hand, was into cracking jokes and fixing things. Lauren was just off the chain, something had to have been tied around her neck while in the womb because I swear there ain't no air up in her brain.

  When I was a youngster, Lauren was in her teens and I used to straight up idolize her. No other female on the block could fuck with her style. Lauren sported Guess, Polo, Chico and Gloria Vanderbilt clothing. I used to love hanging out with her and her friends. Of course, she didn't want me around, but I didn't care cause I was kicking it with the big girls.

  When I used to walk to the Arab store, this man that lived across the street used to fuck with me. He was tall with long hair and cold eyes, and those eyes still haunt me today. At first, he used to just stare at me, but one day he decided to take it a step further. Seeing me, he stepped off the porch and approached the fence.

  "Hey there pretty girl," he said, licking his lips.

  My momma had taught me not to talk to strangers so I kept moving.

  "I know you hear me," he said, speaking a little louder.

  I continued to walk and ignore him, telling myself I was almost there. My adolescent heart thumped as hard as a bass drum. I didn't understand why the scary old man kept bothering me.

  "One day I'ma come from behind this fence and pull you into my house, and when I do, I'ma teach you to respect your elders. You want me to get you don't you?" He teased, sickly.

  "Leave me alone!" I yelled, now running and crying.

  "What you running for, I ain't did nothing to you yet. You gonna be mine one day little girl," he said, seriously.

  Running as fast as I could, I tried to erase his eyes and words from my mind. Stopping in front of the Arab store, I held my chest to catch my breath. Looking back down the street, I saw him taking his seat once again on the porch. Staring at each other, I prayed that one day he would die a slow and painful death. I didn't know then that he was what we now call a child predator. Once I returned home, I told my Uncles about the frightening old man and his threats. All I know is, after that day, I didn't have any more problems out of his crazy ass.

  Pat was my life as a child, she was my first love really. There ain't no love like the love of your grandma. I was her favorite, she loved her some Chyna. Everybody said I looked like her. I lived with her up until I was nine and that green house had serious problems. If the heat was on, the gas wasn't, and if lights shined, water didn't run out of the faucet. There were times when Pat had to borrow water from neighbors. We would use it to bathe, cook and to flush the toilet after use. Roaches were my friends, they were always walking around the house saying hello. We had big roaches, little roaches, mama roaches, daddy roaches and white roaches. And if you have roaches, you know that those white muthafuckers are hard to kill.

  My eyes have witnessed struggle. Pat tried to play it off like she was never worried about how she would pay her bills, but I knew secretly she was worried. She would constantly sit in her chair humming and praying, wondering how she would some-how manage. But Pat being the hustler that she was would ask the mailman for some extra ends if she had to. Diane didn't like the fact that Pat depended on others t
o support her financially, but hey, how could you knock her, she had to stay on her grind like everybody else.

  Sitting on the front porch in her peach duster, she would wait for somebody she knew to roll through then she would holla out,

  "Give me two dollars!" Pat didn't have any shame in her game.

  One time, I was sitting outside on the porch with her when Chris, the neighborhood baller, came through.

  "What you need with two dollars Pat?" Chris asked.

  "Don't worry about what I need them for, do you have two dollars or not?"

  "You know I got you old lady," Chris said smiling, handing her a crisp twenty dollar bill.

  "Thank you Chris baby," Pat said, hugging him.

  "You're welcome Pat. See you later Chyna," Chris said, winking.

  Chris was that nigga, tall, dark and lovely, but he liked my Aunt Lauren, he rarely ever looked my way. I couldn't wait until I got older because shit, when it was my time, Chris would be mine. He looked real good getting into his Suzuki Sidekick with his fresh box cut. The Used Jean outfit he rocked was on point and his thick gold herringbone chain was weighing down his neck, but shit, it was a good look for that nigga.

  "Chyna!" Pat yelled, awakening me from my daydreaming.

  "Huh?" I answered, aggravated.

  "Go in the house and tell Derrick to walk and get me some Church's Chicken."

  Closing the screen door behind me, I yelled into the house,

  "Derrick, Pat said to come and go get her some Church's Chicken!"

  "Let me get a couple of dollars Pat since I'm going to the store for you," Derrick said, coming out the house.

  "I'm not stupid Derrick, you're gonna use my money to snort that shit."

  "No I ain't, I swear. I just, I just need some money in my pocket."

  "I ain't playing with you Derrick, you better be back here in fifteen minutes with my food and my money," Pat said, seriously.

  For once Derrick came back like he promised, and I knew then that he wasn't like normal junkies. Don't get it twisted, he was a straight up junkie, no ifs ands or buts about it, but that night the monkey must not have been calling him because we all sat on the porch and shared a meal like a real family.