This story follows a young woman by the name of British whose mother was tragically murdered by sources unknown, this causes her to move back to Jamaica temporarily bringing back old flames she thought she already placed behind her.
Date started: Oc...
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British
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BRITISH SMITH|24
The music was loud and everyone got cooped up and cosy with each other.
There was whining and twerking among many other dances, people held on to randoms and gave them the dance of their life. I must have zoned out momentarily because I didn't notice Jayda dancing on her friends that she had invited with us, Samantha and Tori.
I didn't know either very well but I remembered Tori from my first year of high school. She was very loud and outgoing, I never once had a conversation with her but based on first impressions she had a pretty bad one back then.
Her light skin clashed with the dimmed red light as a Vybz Kartel song played.
Baby yuh skin smooth but yuh love it rough~
Her black dress and tattoos made it hard to look away even as a straight female. I admired her and wondered if she had changed, in that exact moment she smiled at me. "You're not dancing, whyyyy?" She was slurring already and we hadn't been here for an hour yet, "Not feeling up to it, just observing." Samantha chuckled at my statement then took the cup with a mixture of Appleton and Pepsi from Tori's hand.
Sam wore an orange dress that left little to the imagination, it had small cutouts on the sides that displayed her chocolate dark skin and tattoos, compliments were due because she was gorgeous.
As for Jayda, she was in the cutest of pink dresses and she'd never stood out more, her brown skin was practically glistening in the dimmed light while I stood in a sexy red dress looking around the club like I didn't belong.
I'm not socially awkward but I was still thinking how wrong it seemed to be partying hard and having fun while my mother's dead body lay cold in the freezer of some dark funeral home. I suppose I wasn't shy, I was just a little tense.
I felt an arm to my lower back causing me to feel even guiltier, "Hey, calm down and have fun. It's just one dance." I looked at Raqueem who tried to talk loud enough for me to hear him. I was still a little shocked at the fact that he accepted my offer to go out with me. Wah if mi did a walk and kill man?
He took a sip and the red cup glistened as the lights bounced off. Something within me made me feel like I was cheating even though I wasn't doing anything. I was just engaging with Raqueem on a friendly note, I wanted to get out of the house and he happened to be available.
Maybe I'm just trying to convince myself that it isn't because I'm battling the guilt inside. Was I getting over Zion because he wasn't giving me the attention I knew I deserved? He was coming home late and he'd fall asleep early, even the sex got worse and it wasn't even so hot to begin with.
