Jayda Edwards is the typical young black girl growing up in Atlanta, Georgia which is considered to be the spot of black excellence and wealth. Jayda is living a good life with great friends, an extraordinary grade point average, beauty and enjoying...
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Buzz buzz.
The repeated vibrations under her pillow woke Jayda from a deep sleep. She groaned, rolled over, and glanced at the pink digital clock by her bed.
7:30 a.m. blinked in bright white lights.
School started in an hour, but instead of getting up, Jayda closed her eyes, hoping for a few more precious minutes of sleep. That peace didn't last long—her phone rang, cutting into her extra rest.
Annoyed, Jayda reluctantly sat up, reaching under her fluffy white pillow for her phone. She squinted at the screen. Adriana, it read.
"Hello?" Jayda answered groggily, wiping the crust from her eyes, trying to wake up enough to sound coherent.
"Bitch, am I still picking you up?" Adriana asked. The loud sound of chewing came through the speaker, making Jayda roll her eyes.
Jayda slid out of her large bed, sitting on its edge as she took off her satin bonnet. "Well, good morning to you too, Adriana."
Adriana had been one of Jayda's best friends since sixth grade. The two met in Mrs. Holloway's class when Adriana first moved to Georgia. Jayda, shy and reserved, had been sitting alone at lunch one day when Adriana plopped down beside her. Adriana was loud, confident, and saw something in Jayda that led to the first of many lunches together. They became inseparable, and Adriana appreciated Jayda's drama-free nature, which set her apart from most of the girls at school.
Adriana was the polar opposite of Jayda—outspoken, sometimes unnecessarily loud, but she wasn't the type to start drama. She was cool, laid-back, and well-liked for her "don't mess with me" attitude, which is exactly what had drawn Jayda to her.
Adriana laughed. "Good morning, bitch," she said, applying lip gloss to her thick pink lips.
Jayda stood and walked over to her vanity, flicking on the LED lights around the mirror frame. Her room was decorated in soft pinks and whites, with pale pink walls and a white comforter on her full-sized bed. Her friends often teased her for being "overly girly."
"My dad just picked up my car from the shop this morning," Jayda said, pulling bobby pins from her freshly done silk press from the previous weekend.
Jayda's parents were well off, though they would never call themselves rich—just humble. Her mom, Roseanna Garcia-Edwards, was a medical aesthetician at a plastic surgery office in Buckhead, and her father, Dawayne Edwards, was the head doctor of the labor and delivery unit at a hospital in Clayton County. They had worked hard to build successful careers, despite starting young—her mom had gotten pregnant at sixteen with Jayda's older sister, Ariana, and her dad had been mixed up in the streets before turning his life around.
