”“I’ll be back soon.”“So you’re gonna stay over here fucking that man,” she gasped.“Chill out, baby! I’m just fuckin’ dat bitch! I... ain’t no love. Go on back home.”“Don’t come back! I don’t want you. I need to get an AIDS test.”“You actin’ a fool. Get in yo’ car and go back home. Here’s $37,” he extracted crumpled bills from the pocket. “Buy a pizza or some!”“You’re an ass, Travon!”“I done told you. I ain’t gon’ say it no more,” he raised his hand.She turned and went back to her vehicle. She. One of those spooky looking places late at night. Opening a sliding door that screeched like an air raid whistle, we walk across the concrete floor to some offices. The sound of my cleats on the concrete echoed throughout the building—no sneaking in here. Inside one of the offices, , we find, OMG it's Mr. Clark ! I flash a look at of horror at Mark and he just grins and says “roll wit it homie” Having his back to us when we entered the room, Mr. Jones turns around after fishing some buds. More

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