Crazy In Love With A Thug: Bari and Seven by LaDonna Robinson Read Free Book Online

won't go trying to live in that house until your emancipation is legal. You don't want to end up in a foster home somewhere."
    "A foster home? Can they do that to me?"
    "Hell yeah, they can. Now promise."
    "What will I do until then? I can't go back to Trish. I guess I can go live with Big Mama and Paw-Paw until then."
    "No, you can stay right here. Then, when it's legal, you can move into your house."
    "I don't think so, Darshon. Thank you though."
    "Then forget it."
    "Why should I live here with you? You're a stranger."
    "You always bathe in stranger's homes? You always eat stranger's food? You always wear stranger's clothes?"
    "That's not what I mean."
    "Then what do you mean? Bari, you need somebody to teach you some things. You can't just decide to be on your own one day and then do it. You'll end up dead somewhere. You're too naive."
    "How long will it take?"
    "Are you in a hurry?"
    "Yes, I am. I want to move back to my daddy's house. I hated living in an apartment. I hated living with Trish period."
    "Then let me help you. You have to trust somebody."
    "You just told me I'm too trusting. Now, I'm not trusting enough?"
    "Bari..."
    "Okay, but I have to let my Big Mama know where I am. And if anything happens to me, my Paw-Paw will kill you," I said seriously. "I don't have any clothes. I don't have anything. You have to go to Trish's and make her give you all my stuff."
    All my stuff consisted of my clothes. That was it. There was no other sign of my existence there except for the twin sized bed and the small dresser. No pictures of me like there was of Trish all over the place. And none of my daddy either.
    "And you have to take the bottom drawer of my dresser out and bring me that box that's hidden there. Those are all my pictures of my family. Please," I asked near tears at the thought of losing all my pictures.
    They were the only real memories I had. I watched Darshon pick up the phone, then listened intently as he told his brother to retrieve the box but to leave the clothes.
    "What am I supposed to do about my clothes?" I asked.
    "We'll take care of it tomorrow."
    I hate clothes shopping. Trish always picked them out. She said I had to be careful of the colors I wore because I was so black. If I picked orange, I’d looked like Halloween. If I picked yellow, I looked like a bumble bee. If I picked green, I looked like a rotten avocado. So she picked all the colors.
    "I don't really like to shop for new clothes."
    "What?" he looked at me in amazement. "All girls like to shop."
    "I don't."
    "Why not?"
    "I just don't. I hate waiting in line to pay for stuff," I lied.
    "Bari, you can't go through life tying every bad experience you've ever had to something in the present. You have to let go of the past if you really want to move forward."
    I didn't know how to let go of my past. My past, most of it anyway, was the only joy I had ever known in my life.
    "I can't.”
    "What do you mean, you can't?"
    "I'm not ready. My daddy is in my past. My sister is in my past. I'm not ready to let them go yet."
    "You don't have to let them go. I'm talking about hurtful stuff." I nodded. "And if something bad happened just shopping for clothes, you can't carry that around forever. You have to buy new clothes at some point. And besides, I'm fun to shop with," he smiled.
    I smiled back.

 
    Chapter 12
    "Do you like this?" I shook my head. "This?"
    "No."
    "You are trippin', Bari. This is Gucci. Nobody don't like Gucci. What about this?" I shook my head. "This one would look the bomb on you."
    "I don't like it." It was a black wrap around jean dress by Calvin Klein. I picked up the price tag. Seven hundred. "As a matter of fact, I hate it."
    Darshon started laughing.
    "You're not supposed to trip off prices when somebody else is paying."
    "I really don't like it."
    "Well, I'm getting it anyway."
    I followed him all over the store, then to the next and the next. He had at least ten bags already; jeans, shirts, shoes, shorts, dresses,