A young Megan Pete loses her father and is left with her stepmother. Megan struggles to find love and when she think she has, it's not what you would expect.
"Ok, first of all, I don't like you," I said crossing my arms.
"You don't have to like me Jovon, but can you just accept the dog?"
I sat back on the couch with my arms still folded while the brown-skinned woman held out a small pit bull with a little tie on. I knew she was trying to make up for how she treated me on Easter Sunday.
"Hmm, I'm surprised you got me anything considering," I dragged as I took the grey dog from her hands.
"Considering what?" she asked, raising her left eyebrow.
"Nothing, Beyoncé. It's whatever."
The dog seemed shy, plus he was shaking. I tried my best to calm him down by rubbing his back, and he responded by licking my hand.
"Aweee, what should I name you; how about 4oe; do you like that?" I asked him rhetorically. "Let's take this ugly ass tie off of you."
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"Four; what kind of name is that?" she questioned while making a face.
"A good damn name, besides I don't want my dog to have a basic ass name like your last dog Kathy."
"Ok for one, that was your father's dog."
"But you named the dog, Beyoncé," I said as I pointed at her while getting up.
"Where are you going?"
"To the nail salon, you know I work there."
"Well, I'm coming with you.
"Noooo, Beyoncé."
"Why nottt?" she whined.
"Why do you want to come? If you think you're getting a free nail appointment out of me, you damn skippy."
"I don't, I just want to spend time with you."
"I guess."
"Let me go change first." She ran back upstairs and I waited. She eventually came back down dressed up. But of course, Beyoncé just had to be Beyoncé. I grabbed my purse from the accent table by the front door and walked towards my car with 4oe in my hands. After getting in, I put 4oe in the backseat into this dog car seat that I already had. I watched Beyoncé get into the car and after she got settled, she started staring at me.
"What?" I asked still at the backseat of my car.
"Please do my nails," she begged with puppy dog eyes, fully turned around in the passenger seat.
I stared at her for a moment and noticed her eyes were getting lower.
"Giselle, what don't you get? I don't like you, damn," I said as I looked down where Beyoncé's eyes kept going; I let out a small gasp when I noticed one my nipple rings was showing; I adjusted my lavender top and allowed my eyes to meet Beyoncé's again, which made me realize she had never broke her glare. I brushed it off and got into the front seat, putting my car in reverse and drove out of the driveway. The drive was quiet for the majority of the way to the nail salon, except for some barks from 4oe. About twenty-five minutes later, I pulled into the nearest parking spot in front of the nail salon; we were always packed so finding space close enough was difficult. I was just about to open my door and get out, when Beyoncé pulled me back into the car by my wrist, aggressively.
