THREE (REVISED)

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CHAPTER THREE

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CHAPTER THREE

☆☆☆

I'm not exactly sure how I got myself into this situation, but Habiba, Sage, and I are now sitting in a small circle playing Uno. Habiba does most of the talking, and I respond when necessary. Sage, on the other hand, barely speaks unless Habiba forces her to.

She doesn't seem to like me much, though I have no idea why. If anything, I should be the one who's mad after getting told to "watch where you're going" despite apologizing multiple times. But every now and then, I steal a glance at her, and she's buried in her cards-never once looking up.

"So, Cory, how come we've never seen you around here before?" Habiba asks, placing down a yellow four.

"I don't live around here," I reply, putting down a blue four and changing the color. Sage follows with a blue one, and it's back to Habiba.

"Oh? Where are you from?" she asks curiously, reaching up to fix her septum piercing before drawing a card.

"Manhattan," I say.

As soon as the word leaves my mouth, the mood in the room changes. The air feels heavier, thick with something unspoken. Habiba watches me with interest, but Sage... she chuckles.

What the fuck is so funny?

"So what?" she finally speaks. "You just came to get a tour of the ghetto?"

I stare at her, momentarily speechless. Not sure if I'm more stunned by her words or the sound of her voice. Both leave me speechless.

"Sage!" Habiba scolds, throwing her a look before turning back to me apologetically.

I shake my head. "No-I just have a friend who lives here, and I came to visit him."

Sage tilts her head slightly, a smirk tugging at her lips, but there's no amusement in her expression. Just judgment.

Why do I care?

"Right..." she mutters, dragging out the word.

I glance at her again. If looks could kill... well, she'd be just fine, because I'm not that bold.

"Just ignore her," Habiba says, rolling her eyes. "Uhm... where's the friend you came to visit?"

I place my next card down. "He's at home. We kind of got into a fight, so I left."

I replay the argument in my mind, over and over. We don't usually fight, but lately, it's been happening more. He thinks I'm not taking my life seriously. I know he's worried, but that doesn't excuse what he said.

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