Chapter 2- Mike “Meech” Buchanan

My world consisted of 5 blocks. I live in the southside of Chicago. People call it Chiraq. It's all about shooting down “the opps” and getting your “clout”. Most of the cats I grew up with are dead now. Ain't no thing though. Crack addicts were on the corner, playing with kids and shit. These were my 5 blocks and you couldn't go 1 block without hearing a gunshot or seeing a needle on the sidewalk. People get robbed everyday. Here comes the Opps. It's usually the Bakersfield boys. You know what that means. Bang Bang. People get shot everyday. It don't phase us. Sex, violence and drugs.

My block consisted of drugs. Lots and lots of drugs. The drug game is the center of these streets.

When you sell drugs that means you “slang” and right now I'm getting ready to do just that.

I get a knock on the door.

I think it's my cousin Yusef. He's went out out to the grocery store talking about he wanted to steal some chips. He should be back soon so I run go the door and open it. I'm shocked to see a white boy standing there.

He's probably the best looking white boy I've ever seen in my life. I haven't seen a lot except when I go to downtown Chicago. They don't look like this guy though. This guy has the flipped up hair and tan skin. His hair is blonde. His eyes are gray. His lips are decently thick. He looks like the love child of Zac Efron and Brad Pitt. This guy is definitely lost. People like him don't come to my side of town usually. No. I was wrong. They definitely NEVER came to my side of town.

“Yusef?” he asks.

“Who wants to know?” I ask.

I wonder if he's a debt collector. This kid has on a polo and some slacks. I look down on his shoes. They are extra nice. Was this guy itching to get robbed out here or something?

“Someone told me that you sell,” he states, “If you not Yusef though. That's fine. I'll find someone else. Not a big thing.”

I study him. My cousin Yusef was the local weedman. Well he had connects to the real drug guys. I helped him out from time to time. The fact that this guy came all the way out here for some weed definitely blew my mind. I take a look at him up and down. I'm a little confused.

“You a fuckin' cop, motherfucker?” I ask him.

“No...”

“Because you look like a fucking cop,” I respond.

He shakes his head and raises his hands, “Honestly. I'm not one. Swear to god. Just heard you sell some good reefer.”

Reefer? I could almost laugh. If this guy was an undercover cop he would be less awkward than to walk up to my door and ask for reefer. I can tell he's a little nervous as well. Maybe that's why I let him in the house. I open the door and let him walk in.

“Take a seat. How much do you want?” I ask him.

I'm not Yusef but he doesn't need to know that. For all he knows I am the weedman. Besides, Yusef was taking extra long at the store. Knowing his dumbass he probably got arrested. The dumbass couldn't even steal right.

“20 dollars worth.”

I look over at the white boy. I was always downlow. I'd had sex with a lot of guys around my block but none of them were like this guy. There was something about him. He sits at the edge of the couch. He's nervous. I can tell. He is tapping his foot as he watches me disappear into the backroom. When I come back with the weed he is frantically looking around. He licks his lips. I can't help but to look at him when he does it.

He is muscular too, bigger than I remember him being.

Then I see the the dick print in his slacks.

“Here.”

“Looks a little...light for a 20.”

“You think I'm trying to cheat you motherfucker?” I ask him.

That's when the white boy looks at me hard. He gets up at that moment. I'm kind of shocked when he does. He's a lot taller than me. He has to be about 6'2”. When he stands over me I think he wants me to realize just how bigger than me he is.

“Yeah. I kind of think you are,” he responds.

I'm shocked and a little turned off that he does that.

“This isn't any regular weed. Trust me. It'll do the job,” I state before looking at him with a hard look, “Clearly you seem like you're on edge or whatever.”

“No offense man. I don't trust you.”

I give him a hard look. His gray eyes aren't threatened by me. Either he has some balls or he's just straight crazy. You don't just make your way to Southside Chicago and threaten the weed man. I mean I didn't think I was the most intimidating guy but I'd met a lot of white people who were scared of me just because I was a black guy in America. I'm pleasantly surprised that I don't intimidate him. If he is intimidated he's doing a damn good job of not showing it.

“Follow me.”

“Where?”

“You'll see.”

I take him in the bathroom. I open the bag and start to roll up, “I am going to let you test this out. I don't usually do this.”

“Why in the bathroom?”

The white boy is inches away from me in the tight bathroom. He stands near the door. He licks his lips again. He looks like the boy next door. He looks so innocent.

“You'll feel it more in tight places,” I tell him.

“What's your name?” he asks me.

“Why?”

“Because if your shit is laced and I wake up in the hospital I at least want to know your name.”

“Mike. The hood knows me as Meech though. What's yours?”

“Sterling.”

How the fuck did some suburban guy named Sterling end up in the Southside of Chicago. This wasn't lost. You got lost somewhere else. You don't get lost in Chiraq. Didn't he hear the bullets. Didn't he hear the rumors. Stay away.

I laugh, “Wow...”

“What's so funny?” he asks me.

I shrug continuing to laugh the entire time that I roll up the blunt, “Nothing. Here. Light it up.”

The guy's name is Sterling for fucks sake. Who has a name like that? This guy was most definitely some weird ass guy from some sputnik town somewhere. God knows why he is on the Southside of Chicago but it's clear that he must be desparate for something to smoke if he came to the hood. I have no doubt that if Yusef was the one who was in this position he would probably rob this guy with the gun that he keeps stashed in the top part of the kitchen cabinet.

For some reason I feel bad for him though. For some reason I feel like smoking him up.

He puts the blunt in his mouth, “I don't have a lighter.”

I pull one out of my pocket. He holds still and I cup my hands around the blunt. I strike the match. The entire time Sterling is looking at me. Our eyes connect. His eyes are deep and kind of striking in a way. I don't know what to expect but I'm smoking it up with the guy. As soon as he inhales he starts coughing and choking.

“You aight?” I ask him.

“Damn. This is good,” he tells me, “You weren't joking.”

He takes a few puffs at that moment and then passes it to me. I take a few puffs. The entire time I'm smoking I catch him staring at my lips. At first I think he's staring at the weed so I move it. His eyes don't follow the weed.

They stay on my lips.

I lick them, purposely. He looks away.

I think I'm attractive in my own way. I'm 5'10”. I have big brown eyes and brown skin. I have a baby face. The guys on the block call me Babyface Meech. I have a short haircut. My two sisters have always said that I look too young like I've never grown up, but honestly at the age of 25 I think it's great that I still look 21. I feel like I'll always look a lot younger than I really am.

“Give me 60 dollars worth of this,” he states, “I'm feeling high already man.”

I hand him the blunt. He smokes it. He leans his head up against the door. I've been staying with my cousin Yusef for a few days after Momma kicked me out. Momma got mad that this girl was sucking my dick in the bathroom 'supposedly'. That's what my sister Kenyatta told her anyway. Truthfully it was some older guy that was sucking my dick. He gave me a 50 dollar bill so hell... I didn't mind. I got a nut and some cash. That was a win win scenario. If only Kenyatta's nosy ass didn't walk in while he was running out the back the door. Luckily she didn't see his face or his Adam's apple.

Speaking of Adam's apple, this Sterling guy had an sexy fucking Adam's apple.

“So why you hard?” I ask him.

He coughs and chokes clearly getting so uncomfortable at that moment, “Excuse me?”

“I meant why you all tense, yo?” I ask, “You seem like you definitely needed to smoke.”

He's staring at my lips again. I bite them. He notices. I smile flashing my teeth at him and he looks away again. I can tell he's getting high but hell so am I and my dick is getting hard just looking at this guy.

“Just stress. From my girl,” he says.

“Oh is that right?” I ask him.

“You got a girl?” he asks me.

“No.”

“Don't get one,” he laughs, “Females don't do anything but stress you out. My girl is dragging me out to meet the soon-to-be in-laws. It's the last thing I want to be doing especially when stuff isn't all the way good with me and her.”

“Like how?” I ask.

“Haven't fucked in a while,” he responds, “She doesn't give head. None of that.”

“Maybe you should try something else.”

He gets confused, “You got a different strand of reefer?”

“Naw. I'm not talking about weed,” I tell him, “I'm talking about this...”

I don't know what comes over me when I grab his dick. I squeeze it for a minute. His face gets red. He looks so awkward at that moment. I can tell he doesn't expect it. Maybe that's what turns me on even more. He is so innocent looking but his dick is so big in these slacks. When I grab it, my fingers don't even go all the way around it.

“Whoa...wait...I'm engaged,” he says.

“That means you want me to do this.”

“What?”

“Because if you didn't want me to do this the first thing you would have said was that you weren't gay instead of anything about you being engaged. So don't worry about it. You don't have to participate.”

He doesn't push me away. He doesn't argue again either though. He just leans up against the wall and closes his eyes. I know what that means. I unbuckle his pants and take his dick into my mouth. His dick is so warm. It fills my mouth. He lets out a deep moan when I engulf his dick and go down on it. He leans his head all the way back. When I look up he looks more like Zac Efron than Brad Pitt. I see him rolling up his sleeves at that moment.

“Damn. Did you just...deepthroat?” he asks me.

I spit on the head of his dick. I work my mouth further down. I watch as he takes a deep puff of smoke. I've never sucked a white boy's dick before. However this dick was probably one of the biggest I've ever seen. I swirl around the tip of his dick with my tongue. I play with the head. His body shutters every I go near his pee hole. He soon starts to give into me.

Soon he is thrusting forward fucking my mouth. He leans off the door and I squeeze on his tight butt. His cakes expand. He's is a slim looking white boy. His ass is tone and perfect.

He was so different from what I was used to.

“I'm nutting.”

“Don't...” I state.

“Why?”

“I said we were going to try something different,” I state, “I want you to fuck me.”

“Man. I'm engaged...” he says again, “I can't do this. This was a mistake. I should get going. I never did anything like this before.”

“But was it good?” I ask him.

He is hesitant, “That. That isn't the point. I should go...um...”

I lean up against the bathroom sink. I drop my pants to my ankles. My asshole is arched out facing him. I look back into his eyes.

“Even straight boys don't say no to this.”

That's when he says the weirdest thing to me. He turns to me. He shakes his head and turns towards the door.

“I respect myself too much to be your hookup.”

I'm shocked. I'd never been turned down in my life. He leaves the blunt and walks out of the house. He doesn't look back. He doesn't say anything else.

~

“You were going to fuck a white boy?” Yusef asks me.

Yusef is the only one that knows I'm gay. That's because my cousin Yusef is bisexual his damn self. He had a downlow boyfriend that ran these streets. A lot of guys around the neighborhood figured that the two of us were gay at one point but no one really bothered us about it, because of the guys that Yusef ran with.

Lil' Ty ran the drug game around here. He runs the 5 blocks.

And that means he runs the world.

“Yo, Yusef, Meech!” Lil' Ty says.

Lil' Ty is talking to me. Meech Buchanan. I'm my father's youngest. My oldest sister is off at college and my middle sister is a block girl. A block girl means she hasn't left the block. Hell. Neither have I, so I can't judge her. He's sitting on his porch. His homies are outside with him. That's what a lot of guys did on my block. This summer was different from most. It's the summer of 2016 and the heat wave got people acting crazy. It's just another day out here. It's hot as fuck.

“Yo wassup?” I say walking up to the stoops.

“Ain't shit. Where you running off to?” he asks me.

“Probably go get some pussy,” I respond laughing.

There are loud groans on from the fellas on the stoop. I'm lying my ass off but I do that from time to time to make them feel comfortable more than anything. The rumors started a few years ago mostly because of Yusef but we had to kill that relatively quickly and we both had to find girlfriends to kill the rumors for a while. Being gay wasn't exactly accepted. Yusef still messed around with girls every now and again but I was done. Truth was I'd just come from sucking that white boys dick at Yusef's spot. I know all of them. They are teasing me honestly. You got Red, who has the freckles. DJ and Kool-Aid are there too. They are some fucking jokers. They always crack jokes on the girls that walk by and try to say something smart. To the right of them is Boozie. He's the biggest drunk ever. Right now he's drunk and it's literally just 5 pm in the evening. They know me well too.

“Oh ok, ok,” Ty says, “I see you. Hey. You remember Lopez?”

I turn at that moment to see Lopez. The name sounds familiar.

“Uh...damn...I'm trying to think,” I say outloud.

“You don't remember me...Meechie Money?” Lopez says.

The way he says it sounds familiar.

My cousin Yusef puts a hand on my shoulder, “Ty's half-brother. C`mon motherfucker. I swear you got an old man memory Meech. You need to lay off that Chronic.”

Suddenly the light bulb clicks. Lopez was this sexy ass black and Mexican dude. He had a wifebeater on and tattoos on his neck. He was a thicker built kind of guy. I found guys like that extremely sexy. The kind of guys that worked out but drank a lot too. Yusef called them “hood muscles”. That just meant that they had horrible nutrition but worked out so much that they were still kind of muscular. I found guys like Lopez to be incredibly sexy. He had slanted eyes and good hair. He has a curly afro and small finger waves throughout his curls. His skintone was this bronze color. He was Mexican and Black but he really looked Asian sometimes. He is Lil' Ty's half brother. Word around the streets is Lopez was a straight savage. Supposedly if you don't pay Lopez what you owe him, you'll end up getting fucked.

I think people are just trying to give him some clout or street rep, but honestly I wouldn't mind the getting fucked part too much...

I suddenly remember, “Yo---you used to date my sister Kenyatta.”

Lopez nods, “Yeah. You done grown up---Babyface Meech isn't a baby anymore. I missed so much. Damn.”

“Lopez just got out of jail,” Yusef lets me know.

I shake my head. It's a damn shame. The system was locking up all the sexy boys. Lopez was always sexy back in the day but now he was on a whole different level. He had that crisp look about him. Sometimes when guys from the block got out of jail they would come out and splurge. They would be sharp as fuck and buy unnecessary shit. I see Lopez's chain and how neatly trimmed his beard is. He's trying to let it be known he's back on the block.

“Yusef was about to help me count this money,” Lil' Ty says, “You trying to come through Meech?”

Lil' Ty puts a 'friendly' hand around my cousin Yusef. I look over. I know what that means honestly even though the others are oblivious. Yusef and Lil' Ty have been dating for years now. No one knew about it but me. They felt comfortable with me being around because no one suspected them of doing anything if both me and Yusef were there.

Ty was...crazy about Yusef.

Yusef was crazy about Ty.

I wish I was saying it in the normal “cute” sense. I wasn't. They were literally crazy. Their relationship was violent at times and a little scary. They had a passion that I didn't understand and honestly didn't want.

The passion had it's down sides but it also had good sides. Truthfully I was tired of seeing my cousin Yusef getting his guts banged out by Lil' Ty every fucking day while sitting there pretending like I didn't mind. It was just ghetto and ratchet that I was acting as their lookout.

“Naw,” I state, “I was actually about to walk over to my parent's place. I'm moving back there for awhile. My mother wants the family to all be in the same house. My sister Chey is supposedly home from college or whatever. I have to go see her.”

“Your parent's still stay out on Westbrook?” Lopez asks.

“Yeah.”

“Cool. I'll come with you. I was walking that way.”

Yusef winks at me. I know what he's thinking. When guys were fresh out of prison a lot of the times you would think they would at least be open to gay sex. I have no doubt that is why Yusef mentioned it to me. Lopez was sexy as all fuck but I definitely didn't want to cross that path with my sister's ex. Plus he was straight as hell. Guys like him didn't become gay. They just didn't.

Still. Walking down the street with this guy, I was really just turned on.

It's pretty quiet. The streets are dark. They are pitch black.

“Welcome home by the way,” I tell Lopez.

Lopez doesn't stare back at me. He looks out on over at the courtyard responding to some whistles. We are next to the old highschool that got shut down. I think they weren't meeting the standards or anything. So now the prostitutes hang out in there. They whistle to Lopez in particular. A few of them blow him kisses. It's clear they see he's sexy as fuck and he looks like he has a little bit of money on him.

“Shit's still the same in Chiraq huh?” he asks me, “The people change. People die. Shit is still the same. Potholes in street. Let me guess. Pizza drivers are still scared to drive through our blocks. They tell.you that you have to pick up. And when you go in the store they have one hand under their desk, grasping for their gun. Make the wrong move...reach for the pepperoni the wrong way and you'll end up a dead man. Let me guess that hasn't changed.”

I look at him. He understands it. He understands the block. It's a weird connection that we share at that moment as we look around silently. We take in the graffitti. We take in the smell of homeless men. We walk past the abandoned cars.

I nod, “Pretty much. Ain't shit really change.”

“My brother Ty is really running things huh?” Lopez asks me, “He really making a lot of money out here I see. Huh?”

I shrug, “I guess.”

Lopez nods, “True. Back when I was out here. I used to be the man. I was just 19 years old out here running these streets. That was 10 years ago. 10 years I was locked up. It seemed like a million man. I don't even know how to act now that I'm out.”

I feel kind of bad for him. I don't know why he was locked up however. All I know is that it's such a waste of a man to have him locked up. As we walk it's clear he's getting attention down every block. A bunch of guys that don't know him look our way wondering who he is. They see that I'm with him though and give me a head nod. I know the head nod. They want to know if he's cool. I give them a head nod back. I have no doubt that the reason Lopez wanted to walk around with me now that it was getting late was because he has been gone so long.

It's not safe to walk around some blocks if people didn't know who you were.

“You look like you got money stashed out?” I ask him, “You're all fly and shit.”

Lopez looks away. There is something interesting about him. Maybe it's the way that he's thinking. Maybe it's something deeper. For some reason I'm intrigued and nervous standing next to him and walking down this street.

“I need more,” he tells me, “It's never enough.”

I laugh, “I feel you. Got to impress the ladies.”

He laughs, “No doubt. By the way. How's your sister? That was the love of my life back in the day. Kenyatta still around?”

I roll my eyes. My sister and I weren't exactly the best of friends. Kenyatta was a loud mouth. She went around the block causing trouble. Everyone hated her except for the guys who hadn't fucked her yet. That didn't leave a lot of people either. She got around. She slept with people's boyfriends. She made a name for herself. She threw stones and pretended like she was innocent all the time. She wasn't even good at it. Most people saw right through her.

“She's around...” I explain.

“You should hook me up,” Lopez states.

We are walking up to my house at that moment. I stop and cross my arms, “What do I get?”

“What do you want?” Lopez asks.

Truthfully I wanted a kiss from sexy ass Lopez but I wasn't going to go there. I always used to have a crush on him. He was Kenyatta's sexiest boyfriend. All the girls in the neighborhood had a crush on him back in the day. Hell I remember Yusef even used to fan himself when we used to see Lopez playing basketball on the courts with his shirt off. I remember him now just dripping with sweat, muscles glistening and his hair. He was a thug and that was what was sexy about him. He was dangerous and we liked every moment of it.

“I'll talk to her for you,” I tell Lopez, “I'll catch you around.”

“You didn't say what you want...”

I'm on the first stoop. I look down at Lopez. He has these full lips. He had this muscular stature. The tats on his neck are making me melt. His eyes squint towards me. Damn this boy is beyond sexy and he had no idea. Maybe he did. Maybe that's why I'd just been reacquainted with him and he was already throwing out requests to hook him up with my sister. He knew that Kenyatta most likely would jump at the idea of getting back with him.

I bite my lower lip, “I'm sure I can come up with something.”

He doesn't respond. Lopez just watches me, gives me a head nods and continues down the block. I watch him the whole way as he walks off.

“Who the fuck are you looking at?” a voice says.

I can hear the voice at the door. My sister is standing there. Kenyatta. She's pretty I guess. She has my big brown eyes but her skin is a lot darker than mine. Kenyatta's hair is short. She wears wigs a lot but when she's broke she just keeps the short hairdo. You can always tell how much money Kenyatta has in the bank by how her hair looks that day. She turns her face up with this attitude. That's the other thing about Kenyatta. She had an everlasting attitude.

“You own my eyes?” I ask her.

“You looked like you were checking somebody out. Who was that?” Kenyatta asks attempting to run past me and be nosy. Luckily Lopez is too far down the block for her to catch eye contact with her especially with the fact that a few of our street lights weren't working.

“Girl mind your business,” I respond, “For once in your life.”

Kenyatta grunts, “Humph. What you doing here? Momma kicked you out.”

“This ain't your house bitch.”

“It damn sure ain't yours. So get out my damn way. Step aside. There you go. Goddam it. Where my momma at Kenyatta? Call her. Hey! HEY! MOMMA!”

“Shh...” Kenyatta says, “Some shit is going down. Chey is back.”

“Where is she?”

“Over there crying her eyes out. Suits the bitch right if you ask me,” Kenyatta states, “She always thinks she's better than every body. That bitch got in some good weave. Some expensive Malaysian shit. The bitch thinks she's Malaysian now if you ask me. Guess she got hit with reality. You wanna know what reality is little brother? Reality is that no matter how smart you are or how straight you make your hair, you're still just a dumb nigga to the world. Sure is. Crying. Just a dumb nigga crying. Humph...”

Kenyatta stands in front of me. She's ready to gossip. I have no doubt she wants me to talk shit about Cheyenne. If I talked shit with Kenyatta like she wanted to we would probably be best friends. I didn't get why she was so petty all the time though. It was like she couldn't help herself. Kenyatta had to be petty. She had to be shady. She had to be rude.

I don't fall into it though. I usually don't.

I roll my eyes at Kenyatta, “You sound so jealous and petty. Bitch move.”

“Meech...don't...”

I ignore Kenyatta and walk into the dining room. That is where I see my sister Chey. I'm confused because Chey is sitting there crying. My mom and father have her wrapped in their arms. I'm not surprised by them embracing Chey. Cheyenne has always been my parents' favorite. It's probably for good reason too. Kenyatta and I weren't worth shit. We were more interested in getting our asses wet by these boys on the block then doing anything with our lives.

Cheyenne was...different.

Cheyenne was that great hope. Every family had one. Every family had that one person who was probalby more likely to make it than the others. Cheyenne was that person. She was the oldest. She was the one who went to college. She was the only one to leave these 5 blocks.

“What the fuck is going on here?” I ask.

“Meech, your sister is just having some trouble,” Momma says.

Pops looks over at me. He was supportive, working 60 hours a week just to keep the lights on in the house. He was old now though. He was a weathered broken man. I make my way over to them with a curious look in my eyes. I'm more confused then ever about what is going on.

“Cheyenne, why are you not in school?”

“Meech give her a minute,” Momma starts off.

“It's OK,” Cheyenne says, “Meech I came to give you guys some good news...”

“What is it?”

“I'm pregnant,” she says.

My mouth drops open. Fuck. I didn't know how to react to this. Cheyenne was in graduate school. She was getting her Masters. She was going to be someone. If any of us could take care of a baby I was assuming that it was hers.

Maybe that's why I run across the room and hug her. I hold her tight.

“This is good news. Right? Why are you crying?”

There is a ring of the doorbell.

“It's him. Don't let him in,” Cheyenne says.

“Who is at the door?” I ask.

“My baby's father.”

“Isn't this a good thing?” I ask, “I want to meet him. Hold on. I'll get it.”

“No I don't want to see that asshole!”

I'm confused.

“Why?”

“Because he cheated on me earlier today. He called me up and admitted it to me,” Cheyenne states.

The room grows quiet. Kenyatta must be loving this. I look over at her and see a smirk on her face. Cheyenne breaks down at that minute. She is crying so hard. I've always been so protective of Cheyenne. She was tough but not in the way Kenyatta and I were tough. She wasn't emotionally all there sometimes. She was tough when it came to be successful and getting things done. When it came to her emotions Chey became a little girl struggling for the attention from men hoping to fill that void from the father who abandoned us.

“I'll tell him to go away,” my father tells me.

“No. Fuck that,” I respond pushing my father away, “Who cheats on a pregnant girl? This motherfucker KNOCKS up my sister and then cheats on her!”

I'm steaming. I can't take Cheyenne's cries. Honestly I wasn't shit. Kenyatta wasn't shit. Cheyenne was our big hope. It was my job to protect her as her brother. There was no way in hell I was going to let some man just disrespect her like this. There was no way I was going to let this fly. I find myself aggressively going towards the door. I”m ready to brawl.

I'm ready to knock this motherfucker out.

I realize my family is behind me.

“Meech. Stop. Please don't!” my mother is saying.

I drown her out. Anything that Kenyatta is saying is drowned out by her own tears. Kenyatta is damn near urging me on. She is even the one who opens the door.

That's when I see someone I'm not expecting.

Sterling.

Kenyatta laughs, “Cheyenne is a with a white boy?”

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