A lot of people couldn’t understand why Reese didn’t like Jah, but they knew just what the beef between them was. The previous summer, Reese found herself at the ass end of a crush on an older cat from the neighborhood. He wasn’t known as one of the more high-profile cats, but he kept himself fresh and had a nice ride. More importantly, he carried himself like a gentleman more often than not. After some coaxing, Reese found herself in the staircase of the projects giving him head. Jah happened to be coming down the stairs and busted them. He demanded that Reese bless him, too, but she refused. Jah, being young and still having that mentality, went and ran his mouth. Unfortunately, the word got back to the kid who was claiming Reese as his shorty. Needless to say, the relationship ended badly. Reese had cursed Jah as a big-mouth little boy and things hadn’t been the same since.

“Jah, I know you holding. Put it in the air.” Rhonda tapped his pocket. She knew Jah was a notorious pothead and could often be found holding some of the best weed in town.

“You know how I do it,” he said, pulling out an already rolled White Owl. “This that shit right here.” He dangled the blunt in front of Rhonda and snatched it back when she reached for it. “Easy, shorty. We ’bout to get ski high off that Diesel.”

“Damn, nigga, that shit is hard as hell to score. Jah, how come you always seem to get your hands on shit that no one else can?” Yoshi asked.

Jah gave her a perfect smile, equipped with dimples. “It pays to know somebody who knows somebody. Jah get you what you need, boo.”

“Nigga, stop trying to mack and light the weed!” Rhonda broke the mood.

The four of them sat on the stoop, passing the blunt of potent weed and talking shit. Though Jah was definitely gangsta with his, when he was in good spirits he was a funny dude. Even Reese managed to unscrew her face and laugh at some of the off-the-wall shit he said. The strange thing about weed is its ability to bring people together. If you got high enough in the right company, you could forget what you were pissed about in the first place. At least until you came down.

When the blunt was about three quarters of the way done, Jah’s eyes took on a funny glare. He was fixed on the dice game as if he was just noticing it. Yoshi and Reese seemed oblivious to it, but Rhonda knew what time it was. He was scheming.

“I’m about to get up outta here,” he said, stepping off the stoop.

“There you go, on your bullshit already,” Rhonda said.