Page 3 of Bern and Isley (D-Ville Projects #5)

Bern

“Man, you need to hook me up with Isley… she was looking fine as shit at the party last night.”

My brows furrowed as I mugged my cousin Antwan. “Nigga, don’t play.”

He and my homie Theo had stopped by my mom’s house to help me straighten up from the night before.

We were all too faded to clean up immediately after the party.

It was true that Isley was sexy as hell.

The way her titties were sitting up in that white tank and her ass was looking good in those distressed shorts.

Although they were a little baggy, any man would notice she had a wagon back there.

But I still didn’t appreciate my cousin speaking on that shit.

“What?” Antwan shrugged. “Hell, you ain’t making no moves on her. Might as well let me shoot my shot.”

My nostrils flared and my fists clenched. “She’s off limits to you, nigga. Besides, she got a man.”

The truth was I’d always loved Isley Baker Simmens, ever since we were ten years old.

The day she moved into the D-Ville Projects, I thought she was the prettiest girl I’d ever laid eyes on.

She had medium brown skin and back then she was skinny as hell.

Her hair was long, but she always wore it in a ponytail.

As cute as I thought she was, there was always a sad look on her face.

And rightfully so considering the devastating loss she’d experienced at a young age.

She’d moved to Douglasville Projects with her aunt because her mother and older brother had tragically died in a car accident.

I had never lost a close loved one. My mama was my entire world; I couldn’t imagine how fucked up I would be to lose her. Especially as a kid.

I always found a way to talk to Isley when I saw her around the complex or even at school.

She didn’t have any friends, so I always went out of my way to invite her to sit with me at lunch.

Sometimes she accepted my offer, sometimes she didn’t.

Our friendship didn’t really bloom until I had to beat a nigga’s ass for her.

After that we were damn near inseparable.

If I wasn’t playing basketball, I was next door at her apartment, playing video games, or she forced me to watch chick flicks with her.

Everyone swore up and down that we had something going on.

But that was far from the truth. Though I’d always had feelings for her, I never acted on them.

I knew she saw me as just a friend. And a friend was what she needed most after all the trauma she’d experienced.

I didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize the friendship we’d built.

I never wanted to do anything to lose Isley. I needed her in my life.

“I’m with Antwan… Isley is fine as fuck. I’m surprised her man wasn’t with her. Shid, if I had a shorty that fine, I wouldn’t let her out of my sight,” Theo added.

“Y’all niggas worried about the wrong thing. You supposed to be over here helping me.”

“Shit, we can multitask.” Antwan chuckled as we began breaking down all of the tables and stacking chairs. I changed the subject to NBA games to get those niggas’ minds off Isley.

We were done putting everything up and throwing away trash within an hour and a half so we sat in the kitchen and had a couple of beers.

Well, they had beers. I just had water. I was still a little hungover from the night before.

It seemed that I’d become a lightweight after going five years without any liquor.

I chopped it up with the fellas for another hour before hopping in the shower.

It was such a blessing to be home. I had missed the privacy home provided.

That shit was priceless. That alone was enough to keep on the straight and narrow.

While in the shower, I washed my hair thoroughly.

I had an appointment with Isley for her to start my locs.

I dried off and moisturized before getting dressed.

I threw on a black V-neck tee and gray joggers.

I sprayed cologne before putting on my smart watch.

I settled on a pair of black and white Jordan threes for my footwear.

“I’m about to head out, Ma. You need anything before I leave?”

“Nah, baby. I’m good. Be careful, hear?”

“Of course.” I leaned over the sofa where she sat and kissed her forehead.

My mama was the realest. Despite my fuckups, she stood ten toes down for me, never turning her back on me.

I knew I could always count on her. And Isley.

Those two were my lifelines. I grabbed my keys from the glass console table then headed out of the door.

It was another humid ass day, so I didn’t waste any time hopping into my black 2020 BMW 8 series Gran Coupe.

It was my last purchase before I went to prison.

Shit was practically brand new. It hadn’t been driven since I went away. It barely had two thousand miles on it.

While the cool breeze of the air conditioner hit my face, I searched for some tunes for my quick ride to the D-Ville Projects, my old stomping grounds.

I decided to check out Krist’s mixtape. He was one of the niggas from around the hood making a name for himself on the music scene.

Traffic was light, as it usually was on a Sunday afternoon.

I pulled up to the Douglasville Projects in less than ten minutes.

Well, the name had been changed to Meadow View Apartments.

I drove around until I found a close parking spot near the building’s entrance.

I put my car into park and just stared at the building I once called home.

It looked nothing like the place I grew up in.

It had been renovated since I was locked up.

But it still felt like home in a sense. My mother and I lived there until I was fifteen years old.

We ended up moving because my mom got married.

It was bittersweet. I was excited that we were moving into a nice three-bedroom house with a big ass yard.

My new stepdad Norman had bought a basketball goal for me so I could invite my friends over to play ball.

But I was sad to be moving away from my favorite person, Isley.

We were only a few miles from the D-Ville Projects, but that didn’t stop Isley from breaking down like I was moving across the country.

I must admit, I shed a tear myself. Although we still saw each other at school, it was a big difference from living across the hall from each other.

Isley’s Aunt Fee didn’t have a vehicle to bring her to my house to visit, so my mom would pick Isley up every Saturday to hang out all day then take her home that evening.

There were even plenty of times that I would walk over to the D-Ville Projects to chill with her during the week.

I didn’t mind walking a few miles to be with her.

But when I got my first car at seventeen, I would go see her or pick her up whenever she wanted.

I killed the ignition and stepped out of the vehicle.

I hit the lock button on my key fob until I heard a series of beeps.

Walking up the sidewalk, I spotted a few members of the local gang, DP, hanging around.

Even though I never joined the gang, I was cool with just about every nigga affiliated.

I had grown up with the majority of them.

I nodded at them in acknowledgment as I walked past to the building’s entryway.

It seemed like it had been forever since I’d stepped foot on the premises.

It was crazy how five years felt like a lifetime.

The pissy smell that used to plague the halls was no longer present when I entered the building.

It still had a fresh new paint smell though it had been five years since the renovation.

It was nice to see they had a working elevator.

I selected the fourth-floor button as soon as I stepped in.

When the elevator beeped, notifying me of my preferred floor, I stepped off and headed to apartment four fifteen.

Out of nowhere, excitement raised up inside of me. I grinned as I knocked on the door.

“It’s open!” Isley yelled out.

Turning the doorknob, I entered the unit Isley shared with her Aunt Fee and her cousin Scrap.

Isley stood beside the kitchen table. Her faux locs were pulled into a low ponytail.

She wore a salmon pink sleeveless dress under a cheetah printed stylist apron.

Her face was fresh and free of makeup. She looked beautiful as always.

“Hey, I’m almost finished with little Miss Jameah,” she announced.

“Cool.” I glanced down at the child who sat in front of her glued to an iPad. Isley was sliding multicolored beads on the ends of the cornrows styled into two ponytails.

“Go ahead and have a seat. Don’t act like a stranger.” She smiled widely, showing her pearly white teeth.

I took a seat on the worn, brown, leather sectional.

I looked around the place. The décor in their apartment was pretty much the same as it was the last time I’d visited.

Next to the sofa was an oval-shaped coffee table with a huge Bible open to the middle page.

Across from the sectional on the opposite wall was a fifty-inch television that sat on an upcycled dresser Isley had painted deep red.

The walls were covered in various Christian-related artwork and framed family photos.

There were several house plants sporadically placed around the living area.

There was a soft knock on the door just as Isley sprayed oil sheen on her young client’s hair. Isley wiped her hands against the apron as she walked toward the door and opened it. I couldn’t help but notice how her plump ass jiggled in the thin dress she wore.

“You’re back just in time,” Isley told her guest, who I assumed was the girl’s mom. “I literally just finished.”

“Perfect,” the lady responded. “Meme, your hair is pretty. Do you like it?”