Aight

"Yo, what up nigger?"

"Did you just call me nigger?"

"Hey, hey, man, you can't say nigger-"

"Why not? You just called me a nigger-"

"Cause you white, you ain't no nigger-"

"What the fuck? I was just repeating what you said-"

"You can say cracker-"

"So can you-"

"Yeah, but my peeps been in slavery for 600 years-"

"I ain't enslaving nobody. As a matter of fact, I support my black brothers-" Mark clasped hands with Donte, exchanging a tight wad of five twenties for a sliver of alumimum foil folded flat several times over, which he slowly slipped into the front pocket of jeans. "So take that motherfucker. Besides, y'all like being called that-"

"Fuck you say-"

"What's the name of your gang?"

"The Cedarville Niggers-"

"All right then-"

"Man, we takin' ownership of that shit-"

"Whatever. I'm fuckin' white as a ghost and I don't like bein' called nigger-"

"Damn, motherfucker, there you go again-" Donte glanced his knuckles off the side of Mark's ribs through his leather jacket and laughed. "You a crazy motherfuckin' white boy-"

"Cracker. Get that shit right-"

Donte laughed again and ran his hand lightly over his cornrows as he looked around. He nodded towards a security guard walking their way. "You wanna smoke-"

"Sure-"

"Let's get the fuck outta here-"

Donte put a key in the door of an old burgundy Cadillac that sparkled in the twilight. "Here's my lady-" He locked the doors after Mark got in, pushed the gas pedal three times, then turned the ignition. "Purrin' like a fuckin' kitten-"

Mark laughed, watching the mall grow smaller through his tinted window as Donte pulled onto the highway. He reached into the glove box and grabbed a small box. Flipping the lid, he pulled out a plastic baggie filled with weed and rolling papers and set to crafting two of the skinniest joints ever known to mankind.

Donte jerked the car into Mark's neighborhood, sped past 20 or 30 cloned single-family homes and softly alighted onto a narrow blacktop that stretched around the back of the community's electrical power boxes. Out of sight, he jerked the key backwards and turned down the radio. "Gimme some of that shit-"

Mark handed one of the toothpicks to Donte and watched as the only 21 year-old Cedarville High lit and sucked down half of his perfectly cylindrical creation. Donte handed Mark the joint as he began choking, waving the smoke pouring from his chest out of his face. "Smoke the rest of that white boy's dick, will you?"

Mark grinned and obliged his friend, burning his lungs and fingertips with the rest of the twig. He stubbed the remaining millimeter in the ashtray and exhaled, the veins in his forehead straining with the force of his gagging. He picked up the other string of a joint and handed it to Donte. "Here-"

Another two drags between them and several thousand coughs and they lay back against their leather headrests. "Is is it true what they say about you," said Donte.

"What's that?"

"That you're a faggot?"

"Who says that?"

"People-"

"That's funny. They say you're on the DL-"

Donte laughed. He punched Mark's knee. "Man, I got nothin' 'gainst faggots." He coughed. "You know Larry-"

"Yeah-"

"I let him suck my dick before-"

"Really? Why?"

"Motherfucker owed me three hundred dollars. But he only had two hundred. So I said, 'Suck my dick and you ain't gotta worry 'bout the other hundred.' I was just kiddin'. Next thing I know, nigger on his knees with my dick in his mouth-"

Mark laughed. "What the fuck?"

"Best head I ever got-" Donte turned his bloodshot eyes to Mark and shifted in his seat.

"Ha-" Mark closed his eyes, giggling.

And Donte's lips brushed against his, the man's large knotty hand guiding Mark's to his crotch-