Eric Harden had his whole life mapped out since the day he was born and never strayed from that path. Until Gavin Adams walked into his life and awoke feelings in him that he never even knew existed.
And now he was expected to just forget about it a...
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I don't think he was getting his bitch back, especially not if she was in this shit.
"I'm not going in there." I shook my head. I wasn't no bougie Nigga or nothing, but that shit looked like a trap house. The stairs was all crooked and shit and I think two was missing.
I ain't never been to a party on the Eastside and from the looks of it, I ain't need to start today. It looked like it was falling apart.
Dre cut the car off, already getting out the car, "Nigga, bring ya bitch ass on."
Who he calling a bitch? I looked in the backseat because clearly the bitch was in the backseat.
I made sure to grab my other dutch before stumbling after him. This don't even look like a safe place to leave a fucking care. But then you know what, who'd even wanna take this shit.
"Do you even know what the bitch got on?" I asked him. Looking around it was just too many people and too dim to pick anyone out. And it was hot as fuck, I started sweating a lil soon as I stepped in this shit.
He shook his head, "I just know she got pink braids right now so."
I nodded. Aight, that should be easy. It shouldn't be too many girls running around here with pink braids. If I'd actually look. Now, I ain't tell him I had no plans of actually looking for her because I was gone sneak off and find a place to smoke. But I could tell by the way it was hard to breath in this bitch and how foggy it was, I could've sparked up right here but I ain't know none of these niggas in here.
I watched him walk off before turning in the opposite direction and I bumped into someone I actually knew.
"Tyler!" He turned around all frowned up, but smiled when he actually saw me. He still had braces.
He came and dapped me up, "Eric fucking Harden."
"Go head, tell everybody my government name. Say it louder." I crossed my arms, "Fuck you doing here?"
Tyler Drake was a fucking beast. QB for our sophomore, junior, and our senior year. He was just that fucking good. He had some of the best offers, but ended up at FAMU for the same reason I chose Tillman. Legacy.
He stepped back, "What? Nigga, this is my party."
"I ain't know you lived on the Eastside, what the fuck. How you even go to Duncan?" It was on the whole other side of the city, at least thirty minutes away from this shit, "Also I almost busted my ass walking in this shit. I should sue y'all for those fucking steps."
"You ain't gone get shit, you see we ain't even got the money to fix the steps," He laughed, punching my shoulder, " And I just used my Auntie's address. They don't check that shit. But, yo! When you get in?"
We ended up standing there for a while talking about mad bullshit. It made realize what the fuck I been missing for the last nine months. This shit right here. Real friends.
