CHAPTER SEVENThe next day
Marquan stood in line impatiently waiting for his turn to use the pay phone. As soon as it was his turn, he snatched up the telephone and proceeded to make his call. Once the time came, he stated his name and waited for the chance to talk to whoever had accepted his phone call.
“Well, goddamn. It’s been months, it’s ‘bout time someone answered.” Maquan waited for a response but he didn’t receive one. He did, however, hear the television in the background which was playing cartoons. His brows furrowed and he said, “Hello?”
“’Sup, my nigga?” a familiar voice asked.
Marquan’s brows furrowed further as he wondered why Apocalypse was answering the phone at his house. “’Sup, cuz? What chu doing at the house?”
“Oh, you ain’t know, cuz? I’m the new nigga that’s dicki
