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Onika Pov
Maraj Household

Another day, another hood game. The first game, we won. Now it's the day of the second game. We have a long time before tonight begins, so I want to go shopping. I already have my hair braided the way I want it, and my nails are done. As much as I would like to make my brothers sit in a long nail shop, I actually like my nails right now.

I have to first pick up Solange, then Dina. I'm only able to leave without the boys because we're going through hood games. When they do this, nothings supposed to happen. If anybody tries anything, their side automatically loses the game. So i'm safe...

"What's wrong witchu?" I asked Solange. She hopped in the car looking all pissed. Before she said anything, my back door was being opened. Beyoncé and Samara got in. "That's what's wrong." she pointed to the back. I mean, she must've not wanted them to come. I don't care if they come, that's on them. They'll be mad when we walking too much and their ready to go.

I chuckled and pulled off. "Hey Princess." Beyoncé and Samara said at the same time. They looked at each other weirdly and just awkwardly looked away. They're too much alike for them to be so distant from each other.

Dina was easier to pick up, she actually started talking, ending the uncomfortable silence. These siblings are really weird. "When we get there, my boyfriend gonna meet me and pick me up." Dina said with excitement.

My phone kept ringing, so I had to silence it. The name was popping up on the screen. Damien. What could he possibly want?

"Damien said answer the phone Princess." Dina spoke from the back. I glared at her through the mirror and she shrugged. How the hell imma answer if i'm driving. I swear she don't think. Plus, she act like she don't see Beyoncé in the car, messy ass. My phone had been going off in my lap, but I was ignoring it. It's connected to the car, so I put it on DND because the music was being interrupted. He called again, more than twice. Ugh. "Hello." I answered lowly.

"I just saw you pass by, where you going?" He asked, you could hear the smile. I sighed heavily, pulling into a parking spot. "I'm at the mall....wassup?" I replied, crossing my legs in the seat. Now that I think about it, I shouldn't have told him that. He gon try to pull up, hell no. "Oh word? Lemmie come up there witchu." See? This dude always wanna be around me. I mean he is my best friend, but sometimes I need a break!

"Uhn uhn. It's girls day. No boys. I'll talk to you later, bye." I hung up. Solange and Dina found that so funny, cackling loudly. Even Samara added in a loud laugh. I looked between them, mugging. I knew why they were laughing, but I wasn't about to feed into their bullshit today. Now they finna be cracking jokes. "Samara you laughing like you know sumn." Beyoncé looked at her. Samara mugged her and looked at me smirking.

"I know more than you obviously. Or you would've been laughing. Dodo bird" She said before getting out of the car. Oh shit. "How she be talking and interacting with everybody but me?" Bey threw her arms in the air. I was wondering the same thing.

When we got into the mall, we went straight to Foot Locker. Them new Jordans came out yesterday, definitely gotta get em. We were the only ones in there, and I spotted the shoes. I'm so excited because their so cute! "Hey, need anything?" Some dude walked up to me. I nodded and pointed to the shoe. It was at the top, so I couldn't grab it. Shut up.

"Yea, can I get a 6 1/2 in those?" he nodded and headed to the back. I looked around, picking out different shoes. "We finna go to the food court. BRB!" Solange shouted across the store. I just nodded, why must she be so ghetto.

These shoes are just so cute today. I want all of them, but I'll get a whole lecture about spending money if I do. My parents and brothers think I spend unnecessary amounts of money because I buy whatever I lay my eyes on; if I like it. Especially if it's pink, and they have all the pink shoes out today. "Here you go. Anything else?" he asked licking his lips, showing his pearly whites. Cute.

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