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"We teach girls to shrink themselves
To make themselves smaller
We say to girls,
"You can have ambition
But not too much
You should aim to be successful
But not too successful
Otherwise you will threaten the man. Because I am female
I am expected to aspire to marriage
I am expected to make my life choices
Always keeping in mind that
Marriage is the most important
Now marriage can be a source of
Joy and love and mutual support
But why do we teach girls to aspire to marriage
And we don't teach boys the same?
We raise girls to see each other as competitors
Not for jobs or for accomplishments
Which I think can be a good thing
But for the attention of men
We teach girls that they cannot be sexual beings
In the way that boys are
Feminist: the person who believes in the social
Political, and economic equality of the sexes"
-Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie- We Should All Be Feminist.

________________

Zee Banks...

Growing up in the streets of Baltimore, I never had that loving mother and father I saw on tv. They were too busy, working and getting money, that I was the last thing on their mind. I guess that's where I get that from.

I'm the only child between the two, but I do have an older brother on my father's side. It's seems as though pops was doing more then working a 9 to 5 hour job.

I remember raising myself from the ages 13-18. I would scrape up money around the house, mow lawns and shovel snow when needed. Basically I saved up money for lunch and things like that. Nobody else would supply my needs. So I had to get money the best way I knew how. Independent at 13 buying my own clothes, meals and cosmetics.

At the age of 16 I began working at Home Deport for two years. Once I saved enough money, I was able to move in an apartment. I moved out on my own at 18 in an one bedroom apartment which I pay $500 a month for.

But the job I had, wasn't paying me enough money so I had to find another one. I'm now 23 and what I do is looked down upon in society because I'm a female. But who gives a fuck, money is money.

"What." I groan rolling over to look at the time. It's going on 2 in the morning, and this nigga is calling me about some nonsense most likely. I just want some sleep.

"Bring ya ass here now." He speaks through the phone, hanging up. I sit up in the bed sighing, swinging my feet to the side of the bed.

I sigh in frustration, putting my hair into a bun. After slipping on some clothes and sandals, I grab my car keys out the bowl leaving out.

Walking out to the warm air, I stuff my hands in my pockets closed out. It's creepy walking around the projects at night. The drug dealers, and addicts just loiter around here. One homeless man grabbed me last week and I made sure to use my pink mace. I haven't been grabbed since either, niggas know I'm not the one.

I unlock my '03 Lexus about to approach it when I bump into someone making me drop my keys. I was about to spaz on him but I seen it was Latrell so I calmed myself. We live in the same building and an old friend of mine.

We started hanging out when I first got here, then he told me he had feeling for me, and I ended that friendship quick. We then became distant to the point where he didn't even come around my door anymore.

I don't believe in love, or fairy tales. The shit just always seemed fake to me. I'm all about this money anyway, I know it won't leave or betray me.

"Oh shit my bad Banks. I ain't even see you." He chuckles calling me by my last name. I nod moving around him.

"You good Trell." I sigh, getting in my car.

"You about to go make that money?"

"Nah not tonight." I tell him, cranking up. I roll my windows down, bumping Top by Lil Uzi Vert pulling off. I ain't really have time for the talking shit. Latrell never talks about shit anyway. At least not any more. I take a 45 minute drive to where I was suppose to be a hour ago. I know Ima hear his mouth. It never fails.

I park in front of his door, cutting the engine as I got out. On cue my phone rings, and I knew it was him so I answer it.

"Where the fuck you at b! I called you like an hour ago fuck you doing?" He snaps. I roll my eyes, locking my car while traveling up the steps to his door.

"I'm outside nigga open the door." I demand.

"It's already open." He hangs up in my ear once again. I swear this nigga is rude as fuck but when he calls in the middle of the night I can never deny him. Mostly because his stroke game is addictive.

"Bricks!" I call while closing and locking the door behind me. The house is pitch black, and I wasn't about to play these games with him.

"I'm leaving yo!" I announce, turning around. I open the door just for it to get closed back in front of me. I jump when I feel his presence right behind me. These were the type of games he liked to play, knowing damn well it was turn on for me.

"Where the fuck you think you going b?" His deep New York accent questions sternly. I was about to answer, but he bumps his front into my back roughly. I stumble into the door, lowly moaning in pleasure.

"You think you leaving me without giving me what I want huh?" My breath hitches, feeling his hands touch every inch of my body. He posts my hands up on the door, intertwining our fingers as he spreads my legs with his foot.

He unbuttons my jean shirt, exposing my cleavage as he pushes my hair back to view my double d's. He kisses my neck and ear, squeezing my chest causing my moans to release. This teasing shit was the worst thing, especially when he knew what I wanted.

"Bricks, n-no hickeys." I gasp.

"Did I ask you to speak?" He turns me around, making my back face the door and me face him. I shake my head no as he picks me up taking me up the steps. When we get to the room, he throws me on the bed as only the street lights shine in the window, identifying his physique and boxers that's exposes his ten inch arousal.

I lay back as he climbs on top of me, stripping my clothes off. I return the favor, throwing them behind me as he puts his head between my thighs. Bricks really wasn't playing. Remind me to keep his ass waiting an hour longer next time.

°°°°

After hours of non stop sex, I fell asleep right on Bricks' chest. I guess y'all saying, "well how you say you don't believe in love, and sleeping on top of the dude?"

We'll see here's the thing. I've know Bricks since we were 10 years old. That's when he first moved from New York to here in Baltimore. We went to middle school and high school together. We were always close. Grew up on the same block, his people knew my people vise versa.

He was my best friend. His real name is Jefe, but I gave him the nickname Bricks. He always use to fight in high school. And when fighting niggas, guys always described his punches to hitting a brick wall. So it fit perfectly.

Things got heated between Bricks and I, I say around junior year of high school. I went to his house one day after school and his parents weren't home.

One thing led to another and he was the first to take my virginity. Crazy thing is when he fell asleep, I got up got dressed and left. He kept calling my phone, texting me, stopping me in the hallway even showing up at my house unannounced. One day I finally let him explain his behavior.

He was man enough to let me know I had him whipped for a first timer. And that he always had feelings for me since we were kids. But at that time just like now, a nigga was the last thing on my mind. I told him we couldn't be and we fell off for a while.

I moved and changed my number once we graduated high school. He went to NYU. Then after completing his degree, he came back and we bumped into each other in at the club. We exchanged number and addresses look where we are again. Now that we're back in each other lives as adults, after sex he'll pull me right next to him so I can't leave. But he has to know he can't tied down.

"Bricks." I whisper, shaking him. I pop my head up to see he's sound asleep. I slowly unwrap his arm from around me, sitting up while swinging my feet to the side. I scoot to the edge putting on my bra and panties, reaching down for my shirt to put my arms through it.

"Leaving again?" I jump, holding my chest.

"Why do you keep doing that?" I whine annoyed, stepping into my joggers. I stand to my feet pulling them up, buttoning my shirt after.

"When you gone stop playing and be my girl b?" He questions, sitting up. I slide my feet into my Gucci sandals, scoffing.

"Bricks you already knew the deal when I got here. Besides I'm not the one for you." I tell him, grabbing my keys and phone off the floor. It's now six in the morning which only gives me no time to lounge around. I knew I should of just stayed in the got damn bed.

"Whose the nigga in this relationship again?" He jokingly questions, squinting his eyes. I laugh, putting my hair back into a bun.

"One, there is no relationship, and two, if there was it would be me." I chuckle, giving him a kiss on the forehead. He shakes his head, smacking his lips.

"You can really be wife material if you stop doing what you're doing." He whines.

"Bricks you try to talk me out of this all the time yo. I'm not trying to be a house wife, take care of kids and do 'wifely duties'. That's how society sees us, or men like you portray us to be. I'm good off that. Us women can do the same shit you men can do, but better. And I'm the prime example of how that works. Now I'm done talking about this shit. I'll see you around." I mumble, turning on my heel. Bricks grabs my arm pulling me into him.

He kisses me deeply, walking me backwards into the door frame breathing intensely. I know he was giving me his all, but I just don't feel the same way about him like he does about me.

"I gotta go." I mumble into kisses. He sighs in defeat, pulling back as I walk in to the hall avoiding eye contact. I gotta be some where in two hours, and if I'm not there my boss will have my ass.

°°°°

I enter my apartment, getting knocked down to the hard wood floor as soon as I open my door. Hissing in pain, I hold my face seeing Remi towering over me.

She's my boss assistant and since he doesn't believe in hitting females, he hired her for that one reason.

"Hey pretty lady? Boss man wants to see you." She chuckles squatting down to eye level. I fake smile, kicking the shit out of her almost bashing her face in. Four strong arms take me off her as I snatch away from them screw face.

"Get the fuck off me! Amir why the fuck did you bring Elmo and the Sesame Street Gang to my fucking house! I told you I don't want them here!" I holler as I enter my living room.

Amir is sitting right on the couch, drinking a Voss water smirking. I swear I can't stand his ass. I'm so glad after this payment I'm done working for his ass. After three years, I'm finally free from his antics

"Well I thought I'd surprise you. You got my money?" He questions with a raised brow. I roll my eyes, grabbing the money from behind a picture that hangs over the mantle piece. I throw the roll of money, crossing my arms watching him count it. He smirks standing to his feet.

"You never disappoint me baby." He chuckles, stuffing the money in his pocket.

"Nope. Now get the fuck out and take your circus act with you." I demand, pointing to the door. He waves to his guards and assistant to leave, putting his focus back on me. As he steps closer to me, I back into the wall furrowing my eyebrows.

"Amir what the fuck are you doing?" I question confused.

"You can't tell me you don't feel the connection between us Zee." He chuckles, pulling on the hem of my shirt. I swat his hand away slapping him afterward. I don't know what he thought this was, but he got me fucked up. I'm not even one of his regulars. Hell I wouldn't fuck him if he wasn't someone I owed money back too. He's nasty as fuck from what I heard.

Amir massages his jaw, backing up. I scold the back of his head, following him to the door to escort him out. As he leaves, he turns to say something but I slam the door in his face. I sigh in relief, putting all the locks back on the door. That nigga just be breaking into my shit, I know I gotta move outta here now. I don't have time for the nonsense.






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