Tey
“You ready?”
Teyana Smith glanced over at her brother from beneath the black ski mask covering the lower half of her face.
The Charger idled quietly at the curb while darkness still clung to the city. It was one of those hours where Ashbourn felt abandoned. The corner stores hadn’t opened yet. The buses weren’t running heavy. Even the people who usually spent their nights posted outside had finally disappeared into somebody’s apartment to sleep off whatever they had been doing.
Across the street sat a small duplex.
Nothing special. Right next to an empty lot overtaken by weeds. Nothing worth looking at.
Unless you knew who was inside.
“Yeah,” she answered.
TJ nodded once. “You good?”
The question almost made her laugh. Not because it was funny, but because it wasn’t. There wasn’t nothing good about either of their lives. Not really. Still, she understood what he meant.
Was she nervous? Second-guessing herself? Thinking about backing out?
The answer was no. A long time ago, life had stopped giving her room for fear.
“You?” she asked.
A grin tugged at TJ’s mouth. “Always.”
“Liar.”
His chuckle filled the car briefly before disappearing. The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable. It never was between them. They’d been carrying too much together for too long.
Outside, the duplex remained still.
Three nights ago, one of TJ’s younger runners had gotten caught slipping. Product gone. Cash gone. Face split open. The message had been clear: somebody thought the Smiths were slipping.
Now it was their turn to answer.
TJ grabbed the duffel bag from the floorboard. “Aight then.”
The words hung in the air. No dramatic speeches. No pep talks. Just business. The way it always was.
Both doors opened at the same time.
The cold morning air slapped against Tey’s skin as she stepped onto the pavement. Gravel crunched beneath their boots while they crossed the street as the world around them stayed quiet.
By the time they reached the front porch, Tey’s pulse hadn’t changed once. Maybe it should’ve. Normal nineteen-year-old girls got nervous walking into situations like this, right? Then again, normal girls weren’t helping raise four siblings. Normal girls weren’t carrying rent money in one pocket and a pistol in the other. Life had made its choices for her a long time ago.
The front door exploded inward beneath TJ’s foot, and everything after that happened fast. Yelling. Movement. Confusion. Just pure chaos.
As always, Tey took the lead. She was a sharp shooter, but that wasn’t why. TJ wasn’t fond of her taking his followup and leaving her behind to what was unbeknownst to him. With her in the front, he was able to watch her from every angle.
Somebody reached. Dropped.
Somebody ran. Dropped
Any sudden move made by anyone that wasn’t her brother, Tey was laying them niggas out. And rightfully so.
It’s them or us.
While TJ collected, she kept watch over him. That was the thing with their dynamic, they always made sure to have each other's backs and fronts. I mean that’s how they ended up in this position to begin with.
Take care of each other! We all we got!
Those words lived rent free in Tey’s head.
By the time it was over, TJ had every dollar that belonged to him back. Plus more.
Fifteen minutes later, they were driving through the sleeping streets of Ashbourn again. The duffel bag sat heavy between them. Neither said much. The city rolled past the windows while the adrenaline slowly faded.
Finally, TJ nudged the bag with his foot. “Pussies.”
Tey laughed. “They really thought they could fuck with us.”
“And keep breathing.”
“Exactly.”
TJ shook his head. “them niggas ain’t got no survival instincts.”
That earned another laugh from her. The conversation died after that. Neither one needed words.
By the time they reached Da Wood, the sky had begun turning dark blue. The projects sat quiet beneath the fading night. Rows of tired, brown brick apartment buildings stretched toward the horizon.
This wasn’t where she grew up. The house she’d grown up in was gone now. Sold years ago, back when TJ had been eighteen, terrified, and trying to figure out how to feed five kids with no parents. At the time, it had made sense. Sell the house. Get connected. Build something.
Now here they were. Back in the projects. Back where everything started. Funny how life worked.
TJ parked behind Building C. Far enough away, close enough. In a spot that didn’t attract attention, not that anybody was awake enough to care.
“You got Trent field trip money?” TJ asked, cutting the engine.
Tey rolled her eyes. “Already packed.”
“Tati paperwork?”
“Signed.”
“Trey’s medicine?”
“In his backpack.”
TJ laughed, the tension finally leaving his shoulders. “I don’t even know why I ask.”
“Exactly.”
For a moment, they just sat there. Brother and sister. Not soldiers. Not hustlers. Just family. TJ reached over and squeezed the back of her neck, the closest thing he ever did to showing affection.
“Love you,” he said.
Tey immediately looked out the window, shifting her weight. “Yeah, aight.”
His laugh followed her right out the car. “Love you too, Tay.”
The apartment was silent when she stepped inside. A beautiful kind of silence that only existed right before children woke up.
She locked the deadbolt behind her and immediately stepped on something hard.
Crunch.
Looking down, she found a plastic toy truck beneath her foot.
“Dammit, Trey,” she muttered, a smile tugging at her lips despite herself. That boy left evidence everywhere.
Sure enough, when she pushed open her bedroom door, she found him stretched across her mattress. One sock on, one sock off, his mouth hanging open. Completely gone to the world.
Tey checked the wall clock. 5:58 AM.
“Damn.”
The peace was officially over.
By six-thirty, the apartment looked like a minor war zone. Trenton was loudly arguing with the bathroom sink because the water was “too cold.” Tatiana was staring blankly ahead, pretending not to hear anything. Treyvon had somehow managed to lose a shoe between the bed and the kitchen.
And Travis was already working her last nerve.
“Treyvon, where your shoe at?” Tey yelled over the noise.
“I don’t know.”
“How don’t you know?”
A tiny shrug. “I just don’t.”
Jesus. Tey closed her eyes. Just for a second. Long enough to remind herself not to lose her mind before seven in the morning.
Then Travis walked out of his room wearing a heavy black hoodie pulled over his head, despite the fact that it was already pushing eighty degrees outside. Her face twisted immediately.
“Where you think you going dressed like that?”
Travis didn’t even slow down. “School.”
“You look like you headed to a lick.”
That got his attention. His eyes cut toward her instantly, sharp and defensive. “What you want me to wear?”
“Something that don’t make you look like you finna stand on a corner all day.”
A humorless laugh left him. “Man, whatever.”
“Travis.”
“No.”
“Travis.”
He finally spun around, his jaw set. “What?”
“Take the fucking hoodie off.”
“No.”
The apartment got quiet. Real quiet. Tatiana glanced up from her cereal. Trenton stopped talking. Even little Treyvon looked back and forth between them.
Tey slowly stood up from the chair and folded her arms. “I’m not asking.”
“And you ain’t my fucking mama.”
The words landed exactly how he intended them to. Hard. Sharp. Cruel.
Silence filled the kitchen immediately. For a second, nobody moved. Nobody even breathed.
Travis looked away first. Not because he felt bad, but because some part of him meant it, and some part of him didn’t. He was fifteen, angry, and hurt, and he didn’t know where else to put it.
Tey stared at him. For one split second, she wasn’t nineteen anymore. She was fifteen again. Standing in a living room filled with blood, holding a gun, watching her entire world fall apart.
Then she blinked. The moment disappeared.
“You’re right.” Her voice was quiet. Way too quiet.
Now Travis looked back, his head snapping toward her because that wasn’t the explosive response he expected.
Tey reached onto the counter and grabbed her keys. “I’m not.”
The fight left Travis almost immediately. Not because he won, but because he didn’t. The flat sadness in her voice hurt worse than yelling ever could.
“But until our real mama walk through that door,” Tey said, her voice steady and piercing, “you’re gonna do what I tell you.”
The words hung there. Nobody had a comeback for that. Not even Travis.
Tey looked away first. “Now take the damn hoodie off.”
A few seconds passed. Then he sighed dramatically and pulled it over his head, revealing his school t-shirt. The tension didn’t disappear, it never truly did, but the argument was over. For now.
Tatiana quietly stood and carried her empty bowl to the sink. Unlike Travis, she wasn’t loud with her resentment. Tatiana carried hers in eye rolls, in heavy silences, and in the way she never quite listened the first time. The girl loved Tey, loved TJ too, but she also remembered enough of the past to know life wasn’t supposed to look like this.
“Bus coming in ten,” Tey reminded her.
“I know.”
“You got your project?”
Tatiana rolled her eyes. “I said I know, Tey.”
“Okay.”
The teenager grabbed her backpack and headed toward the door. Travis followed right behind her. Neither said goodbye. Neither said thank you. Just teenagers carrying around too many emotions with nowhere to put them.
The door shut behind them, and Tey released a slow breath.
Trenton immediately looked up from the table. “Can I have chips for breakfast?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because chips ain’t breakfast.”
“How you know?”
Tey blinked at him. Slowly.
Trenton grinned. Treyvon burst out laughing. And just like that, the heaviness dissipated. At least for a little while.
An hour later, she was walking the boys toward Ashbourn Elementary. Trenton walked a few paces ahead, kicking a flattened soda can down the sidewalk, while Treyvon held tightly to her hand.
The neighborhood looked completely different now. Da Wood was awake. Old folks sat outside on folding chairs, talking over steaming mugs of coffee. Women hurried toward the bus stops. Cars pulled in and out of the crowded parking lots, and the sidewalks were filled with kids dragging oversized backpacks. Life, everywhere.
“Morning, Tay.”
She looked up. Old Miss Ruth sat outside Building B, sweeping her concrete porch.
“Morning, Miss Ruth.”
“Tell that brother of yours to stop ducking me. He still owes me for fixing that pipe.”
Tey laughed. “I’ll tell him.”
“You better.”
A few buildings down, another familiar face waved. Then another. Everybody knew everybody around here. It was one of the blessings and curses of Da Wood. No matter where you went, somebody was in your business.
By the time they reached the school fence, Trenton was already breaking into a run toward his friends.
“Slow down!” Tey called out.
“I’m fine!”
“You ain’t fine if you bust your head open on the asphalt!”
He ignored her, as usual. Treyvon wrapped his little arms around her waist in a quick hug before heading toward the kindergarten line. “Love you.”
Her heart softened completely. “Love you too, baby.”
The walk back home felt quieter. Lighter. At least until she heard someone shouting her name from across the street.
“Tey!”
She kept walking.
“Tey!”
Still walking.
“Teeyyy!”
A heavy sigh escaped her. She already knew who it was. Rico jogged across the parking lot, trying to catch up the same way he’d been trying to catch up for the last six months.
“What, Rico?”
“Damn.” He placed a hand over his chest dramatically. “You always sound irritated when you talking to me.”
“Because you always irritating me.”
A couple of guys standing nearby outside the corner store immediately started laughing. Rico pointed a finger at them. “See? That’s why she think she funny. Y’all amping her.”
“I don’t think I’m funny.”
“You do, though.”
Tey folded her arms, stopping in her tracks. “What you want, Rico?”
Rico flashed a wide grin, leaning in a little. “You know what I want.”
“No.”
“You lying.” The grin widened. “Give a real nigga a chance.”
That made her laugh, “A chance for what?”
“You know for what.”
“Nah. Explain it to me.”
The men by the store doubled over, slapping their knees. Rico’s face flushed. “Now you doing too much. You putting me on blast.”
“I’m waiting.”
He shook his head, looking down. “You know I been trying to talk to you for real.”
“And I been telling you no for real.”
“You never give a nigga a chance.”
Tey shrugged, turning back toward her building. “That’s because most of y’all ain’t worth one.”
The crowd exploded. “Daaaamn!” “She got your ass!” “Cooked him!”
Rico looked around helplessly. “No support. None.”
“Because you keep setting yourself up,” Tey called over her shoulder.
The laughter followed her down the block while she continued walking. A small smile remained on her face until she reached her apartment door. Then, reality returned. Bills. Appointments. Responsibilities. Life.
After a quick shower and a piece of toast, she finally crawled into bed. For exactly two hours. No more, no less. Because survival didn’t care if you were tired.
*********************************************
The chemical smell of Olive Oil No-Lye relaxer and burnt hair always hit Tey before she even opened the glass door to Miracles & Melanin.
By noon, the salon was a circus. Six chairs, four dryers, and enough gossip to fuel the entire south side of Ashbourn for a year.
“I’m just saying, if he got money for new rims, he got money for child support,” Ms. Vanessa barked from chair three, her head pinned down under a forest of plastic rollers.
“Period!” someone chimed in from the back.
Tey slipped past the reception desk, tying a black nylon apron around her waist. Her hands were already stiff, and she was tired despite the two hours of sleep she’d managed to steal, but the moment she grabbed her shears, her fingers remembered exactly what to do. For the next few hours, she faded, trimmed, and braided. She listened to women complain about their men, their jobs, and the rent. She smiled when she was supposed to, nodded when it was expected, and kept her own business entirely to herself.
Nobody in this salon needed to know what she’d been doing at five in the morning.
By five-thirty, the afternoon rush finally started to slow down. Tey wiped down her station with a damp towel, clearing away stray clips and storing her guards back in the drawer. Her shoulders ached, and her eyes felt heavy, but she had one last appointment left on her books for 6:00 p.m.
She glanced over at the sign-in book by the register. Keisha had written the name down in her messy handwriting earlier that week: Ameko Parker.
Tey had already figured it was a girl—probably one of the teenagers from down the block looking to get a silk press or some braids before the weekend. She started prepping her station accordingly, laying out a clean cape and making sure her combs were sitting in the jar of blue Barbicide.
At exactly five fifty-five, the bell above the glass door jingled.
Tey looked up, expecting a teenage girl to walk through the door.
Instead, a man stepped inside.
He didn’t look like the regular street dudes posted up by the corner store, although he had the swag. He was dressed in a crisp white shirt, light washed Amiri jeans, and some oversized sneakers. He carried himself with a quiet, distinct kind of confidence. His smooth features and a calm energy stood out against the loud, chaotic backdrop of the salon. He looked around the room for a second before his eyes settled directly on her.
Tey paused, a comb still in her hand.
The man walked straight toward her station, his Balenciaga running shoes thudding softly against the linoleum floor. He stopped a few feet away, a polite, easy smile breaking across his face.
“You Teyana?” he asked, his voice smooth and low.
“Yeah,” Tey said, keeping her guard up out of pure habit. “Can I help you?”
The man nodded, his smile widening just a fraction as he indicated the chair. “I’m Ameko. Ameko Parker. I got the six o’clock.”
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