Some days Arnessa longed for her mother, but most days she hated her. She wished her mother had died rather than disappeared. That way she could’ve just grieved and moved on, instead of being emotionally confused. Every time Arnessa made an attempt to let it go and move on, she thought of her high school graduation, and her hatred for her mother only magnified.

Arnessa never forgave her mother for missing the biggest day of her young life. She vividly remembered walking across the stage, knowing that Maria wasn’t there. The hurt she felt was so painful that after the ceremony she’d become physically ill with fever and had vomited through the night.

Wiping her eyes, Arnessa bent over and kissed her little sister’s cheek. Deep down, Arnessa hoped that Maria would show up for Cenise’s graduation. Pulling the covers up over her sister’s shoulder, she thought, It doesn’t matter if she ever shows up … I’ll always be here for you.

On the way to her bedroom Arnessa overheard Sincere giving Butta advice, and she stopped to listen.

“You got to get rid of that nigga immediately,” Sincere expressed. “From the door when he sent his people at Arnessa’s sister, you should’ve bodied him and the nigga he sent. Fuck all that back-and-forth shit. You forgetting how we do this?”

“Fuck no!” Butta exclaimed.

“Aight, then you need to put a lid on this nigga like yesterday. He young, he disrespectful, and he smelling himself. I’m telling you, handle him before he handle you.”

Damn, girl, them Pradas is crack,” Kisa said, admiring the bright orange sneakers that Kennedy was wearing.

“They are crazy,” Eisani added as she and Kisa took a seat on either side of Kennedy on the park bench.

“Un-uh,” Kennedy said, pulling her shades down to the tip of her nose and looking over the rim at her two cousins. “Don’t be tryin’ to gas me up. After you two monkeys turned my party into WWF, then bounced without seeing me.”

“That was not us!” Kisa proclaimed with a giggle.

“Whateva, yo,” Kennedy stated. “My people told me when one of them niggas went for Sincere, you”—she pointed at Kisa—“tripped him, and ole female Barry Bonds over here smashed him in the head with a Dom P bottle. I swear you two hoes is still hood.”

“Bitch, please,” Kisa spat, with a smirk on her face. “If your ghetto ass had been over there, you would’ve been thumpin’ right with us.”

“And you know this.” Kennedy laughed. “But who was that chick wit’ y’all?”

“That was Butta’s girl,” Kisa replied.

“Lil’ man know what he doing wit that rock,” Eisani said, directing their attention toward Kennedy’s son, Jordan, who was playing basketball with two other small boys. Jordan was adorable with his tanned brown skin and wide bright brown eyes. He also had the cutest smile to match them. Kennedy’s world revolved around him. Technically, he was not her only child, since she had legal custody of her cousin Nina’s kids. Though they now resided with their grandmother, Kennedy still treated them as if they were her own. She communicated with them daily, and when Jordan got something so did they. Each of the children had a special spot in her heart, but Jordan clearly owned it.