keliiidawggg2 This ones for you, I hope you like it 😬❤️
Ajani's POV
"Why we gotta move in with the nigga?? We fine where we at," I told my mom as I finished loading another box into the moving truck.
She didn't respond but I could feel her eyes burning a hole in the side of my face. I turned to look at her and immediately corrected myself.
"Um, what I meant to say was, why must we move in with the lovely, young, man? I prefer where we live now."
"Mhm, that's better. Don't be talking to me like I'm one of yo lil friends," she said pointing a finger in my face.
I moved my head back slightly. Her nail was so close to my face that it almost poked my damn eyeball out. Me and my mom love getting our nails long. I don't know why. We just do.
She lifted up another box and put it in the truck. Today we're moving in with her boyfriend, and to say that I'm not happy about it, would be an understatement.
"Besides, it's not like you have to change schools or anything," she added.
I guess that was true. If I did have to change schools, I'd probably be raising hell right now.
"But still..." I mumbled as I grabbed another box. Mom sighed.
"What?" She asked irritably, placing a hand on her hip, "I don't see what the issue is. His house is MUCH bigger then ours. Why wouldn't you want to move in with him?"
"Mom, you know me and yo mans don't really get along," I said. She let out a sigh.
"I know, but I think that if you actually took the time of day, to get to know 'my mans', you would realise that he's not so bad. You guys actually have a lot in common," she said, and I scoffed.
"He keeps his ketchup in the refrigerator, I can't fuck with that."
She stared at me as if I was stupid, but I was actually being for real.
"Why do I wanna live with somebody, who keeps they ketchup in the fridge? That's mad sus to me. I don't think he right up there, ya know what I'm saying?" I said as I pointed a finger at my head, implying that he was unstable.
I was only speaking facts. People who keep ketchup and barbecue sauce in the refrigerator can't be trusted. If you eat your ketchup cold, you belong in the crazy house.
I used both hands as I picked up another box. This was a heavy one. It had all of our kitchen appliances in it. Pots, pans, utensils, all that stuff. I'm glad that we was at least bringing our own utensils.
It would be a cold day in hell before I use the same spoons and forks as him. I don't know where his mouth been. He look like the type to eat old dirty pussy and I'm not trying to taste yeast infection while I'm eating dinner.
I lifted the box off the ground and suddenly dropped it when I felt a sandal hit the back of my head, with a lot of force. I yelped as the heavy box landed on my feet.
"Ouch!" I hollered.
"STOP FUCKING COMPLAINING AND LOAD THE GODDAMN BOXES!!!" Mama screamed as she pointed the sandal at me.
I could've sworn all her ass beating shoes were packed already. I made sure of it. I know she didn't open up one of the boxes just to whoop me with her dirty ass crusty ole sandal.
I rubbed the back of my head, trying to soothe the pain, before bending over and picking up the box.
Once that was done, she grabbed the lift-gate and pulled it down, shutting the back of the truck.
