Page 64 of Buy Back My Love

“White Boy Rick.”

I looked from him to the truck. “That is not that man name.”

“Hell nah.”

“Then why you calling him that?”

“Look at him.”

By then the truck was close enough for me to get a good look at the driver. Young white dude with a baseball cap pulled low and tattoos running down the arm he had hanging out the window. His truck was clean as hell too, the kind of clean that told me he probably spent his Saturdays outside washing tires.

I started laughing. “Van, leave that white boy alone.”

“He like that shit.”

The Chevy slowed beside us, and the driver leaned toward the open window. “What up, Van?”

“What up, Rick?”

I turned my head so fast Van caught me looking.

“You really call that man that to his face?”

The dude heard me and started laughing. “He been calling me that shit for two years.”

“See?” Van said. “He answer to it.”

“You stupid.”

The guy looked over at me. “You must be the new neighbor.”

“Something like that.”

“I’m Ryan.”

My eyes went straight to Van, who suddenly became real interested in Snoop.

“Hi, Ryan,” I said, putting a little extra on his government name just to fuck with Van.

Ryan grinned. “You can call me Rick too.”

“Aight, man, get the fuck out the street,” Van told him.

“Don’t hate the player, hate the game!” Ryan yelled back before pulling off, still bumping his music loud as hell.

I looked at Van. “White Boy Rick is corny as hell.”

Van laughed. “You just met that man.”

“And that was enough.”

I was still laughing when I realized I liked whatever Ryan had been playing. “Wait. What song was that?”

Van looked over at me. “You don’t know that one?”

“Obviously not if I’m asking.”

“That was Prove It. 21 Savage and Summer Walker.”