So Gone - By Jennifer Luckett Page 0,2

against my desktop to control the exasperation that was rising up in my chest.

“Bring him on.” I sighed. "But you know I’m at work, and you can’t make this a habit.”

“Yeah, whatever. You need to tell yo’ man to start answering his phone when I call him; then we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” She smacked her lips and hung up the phone.

She's nothing but ghetto trash! I reminded myself. You can't do better if you don't know any better.

I rolled my eyes towards the ceiling and counted to ten. Breathe in . . . and out. Then, I heard hollering and screaming coming from outside my office window. I peered out of the window. Blunt’s four-year-old son, Devin, was throwing a temper tantrum right in front of the building. He had fallen to the ground and was spinning around in circles.

I stepped out of my office and exited the double doors that led out to the staff's parking lot. The oven-hot August heat rushed up on me the second I stepped outside. I squinted my eyes against the blazing sun and approached Chunuchi and Devin. My heels clacked with each stride.

How in the heck did they get here so fast? I wondered. She had to have been up the street from the school when she called. That was just like her inconsiderate behind. Ugh! I was so tired of people taking me for granted.

I frowned when I saw her grab Devin by one arm and pop him across the back. He hooped and hollered and continued scooting around in small circles, screaming at the top of his lungs like she was killing him.

“Shut yo’ ass up!” Chunuchi yelled before whacking him good.

I shook my head in disgust, not only at her for disciplining him in public, but also at her appearance. She was a cute young lady with a gorgeous dark brown-sugar complexion. Even after giving birth to four children, she maintained a body that was to die for.

I can give props where they are due, but the whore was wearing a pair of snow-white coochie shorts that showed the print of her split, and half of her bottom was hanging out. It didn't get any better when I looked up top either. She wore a soft pink spaghetti strapped top that was clinging to her boobs, showing way too much cleavage. She looked like hooker material.

It was no surprise that at twenty-four years old, she already had four children and each of them had a different daddy.

I walked right up to Chunuchi and placed my hand on my hip. “You really caught me off guard with this one. If you can’t do anything with him, neither can I,” I snapped.

Devin finally stopped screaming and got up off the ground. He slung his book bag over his shoulder and stood there with his face balled up looking like he would kill both of us if he had a gun.

"Chunuchi, maybe you should settle him down a bit before you go," I politely suggested.

“Call his daddy, and maybe his ass can come get him. I don’t kno’ what to tell you. I’ma let you and that nigga figure this shit out,” she shot back looking at me with her lip curled.

I put my hand up to stop her before she went somewhere extra. "Uh, this is not the day for your drama."

“Drama? I'm not no damn drama, okaayy! Drama is this boy right here." She pointed at Devin.

“A child imitates what they see.”

“Well, how come out of all four of my kids this is the baddest li’l mothafucka I got? Ain’t none of their daddy’s worth a damn, Blunt included.” She shoved her and Blunt's mistake in my direction.

I fixed my mouth to object, but she spun on her heels, climbed in her car, and drove off.

As I stood there with my arms folded across my chest, I wondered if she threw the rest of her kids off on people. She seemed to always throw Devin off on me when she couldn’t find his daddy.

I extended my hand out to him. “Come on, Devin, let’s go inside,” I offered.

“Nope. You can’t tell me what to do. You ain’t my mama!” He snatched his hand away.

I looked down at him and wanted to bop him on the head. Devin wasn't the least bit intimidated. He looked up at me in defiance, daring me. I took a deep breath and reminded myself that he was nothing but a child.

I softened my glare