She jetted out of Mrs. Moreno’s apartment with the sounds of the old lady fussing in Spanish ringing in her ears. Feeling free as a bird, she walked down the streets of Harlem swinging her hips and enjoying the attention her tight jeans and sexy, curvaceous body attracted from the young boys on the block and the grown men in their shiny new whips. Fifteen minutes later she ran up the stairs to her friend Cheyvon’s project apartment and knocked on the door. The two girls caught the train uptown to 149th Street and spent the whole day boosting cheap outfits and eating pizza slices and Italian-style heroes. It was getting dark outside by the time they returned to Harlem with their stolen goods. Nooni had picked up a couple of pairs of jeans, two skirts, and an ultra-sheer white mini dress that had an open slit from the neckline to right below her navel. Cheyvon had boosted three skirts, a cute dress, and a cheap bottle of perfume for her grandmother. The thrill of stealing was physically exciting, and it had Nooni’s coochie nice and slippery.
