Sincerely

Cincere

Not only am I now board-less and jacket-less, I'm also weedless.

And most importantly, Lee-less.

I start heading over to Reggie's, since he should be home right about now.

I grab my phone and start playing a playlist that me and Lee made together. Our music taste is pretty different, and it took a while for us to find some songs that we both knew and liked. Some of his songs I listen to everyday, just to get used to his kind of music. With how cold and snappy Lee is, his music taste shows that part of him that actually cares about what's going on around him. Which is why I like listening to his music. It's like the part of him that he won't allow to talk is speaking to me.

I whistle and tap on my wheel as I pull into Reggie's driveway. Once I get out of the car I spot Chance's bike laid down in the grass.

I knock three times on the door, and I hear Reggie shout something from inside about opening the door. And when the door swings open, I'm welcomed by Chance's hard glare.

I nod at him, "You gonna let me in or not?"

"Not." Chance says, while sticking his jaw up to make himself look tougher.

I roll my eyes and lean against the doorway, "Hey Reg, can you tell your gremlin to let me in?"

"Chance, get out of the doorway." Reggie shouts from the other room. Chance scowls and glares at me the whole time as I walk in and shut the door behind me.

"Where's your uncle?" I ask.

"You heard him, didn't you? Go find him yourself." Chance scoffs as he plops down on the couch.

This fucking kid, dude.

"Reggie? You busy?" I shout as I set my bag down.

"I'm in the kitchen." Reggie hollers back.

I head over towards the kitchen and see Reggie attempting to make mac & cheese. He's not doing horrible at it, but I surely wouldn't eat it.

I lift myself onto the kitchen counter, "Who are you trying to poison with that shit?"

Reggie chuckles and turns the burner down, "Ah, I'm just trying to come out of my shell. But this cooking bullshit just isn't for me."

"Takes time and practice. And less pepper." I say.

"What brings you here, son?" Reggie asks while disappointingly putting down his mixing spoon.

"Just for half an ounce. And to talk, cause shit has been kind of crazy."

Reggie sighs as he looks at his attempted mac & cheese, "Go ahead and go to the living room. I'll be in there soon and we can talk and whatever."

I do as he says and sit down in the chair I set my book bag next to. I grab my bag, and once I do Chance comes up to me.

"Have you written anything new?" he asks.

I nod and toss him my writing book, "Nothing special, just poems here and there."

"Your writing is cool. I don't know how you do it. I try to, but nothing comes up." Chance says while grabbing my journal.

"I'm sure something does come up, you just don't get it down on paper." I say.

"I mean, yeah, but how do I write something that no one else has already written? I feel like everything has been written already."

"Then write about that."

He stares at me, "Write about how everything has been written already?"

I shrug, "Why not? It's how you feel. And for me, emotions are the best thing for me to write. Even if I don't always understand them."