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11 days before graduation
prom is the closest thing to a wedding that a girl will experience during adolescent years. in terms of the event, not the actual sacrament of course. some people may resonate with the extravagance of a sweet sixteen or a quinceanera. some may have experienced grand cotillion balls. jayda had prom. outside of this event, she would never get to experience the formality and decadence of the aforementioned. prom was her time to shine. and she deserved it just as girls everywhere do. she deserved the glitz and glamour and romance of the night.
so imagine her distress when prom was a mere 2 days away and her boyfriend (now ex) was ruining the fantasy for with his incessant denial to uphold his agreement to take her to prom.
"who in the hell breaks up with someone during the peak of senior madness. we had plans for prom and our grad party and the whole summer damn-near." jayda whines to her older sister whitley, affectionately known as leelee, who was back home from college. the two sisters, thick as thieves with only a two year age gap between them sat crossed leg on the kitchen floor, plowing through a box of oreos.
"yeah that's very outrageous. you have every right to be outraged." whitley agrees through a mouthful of oreos and peanut butter, her favorite "quirky combination". jayda scrunches her nose in disgust and blinks at her sister hard.
"i know that, but how am i going to fix it?"
whitley blinks back at her and shrugs. "there's a million and one ways to bag a nigga baby. get a new one and get right."
"i don't want to find a new one, i want mine back and for him to stop acting like an ass."
standing up to search for a clean glass, whitley doesn't respond to her right away. "um," she starts while filling a plastic cup with water, "i hate to be that one, but i think that ship has sailed baby. also, why don't we have any damn clean cups?"
laying herself down in distress, jayda swallows the tears that are threatening to start flowing. "we have cups they're just in the dishwasher. no one's ever here but me, so i only use paper and plastic cups."
"girl getcho ass from laying on the kitchen floor. you'll find a new prom date. niggas' a dime a dozen. now what do you mean you're the only one here?"
jayda sighs and stands up, empty box of oreos in hand. leaning against the refrigerator, she tries to shoot the box into the trash. "mama's always working or out with some friends, i don't even know. you're focusing on the wrong thing and now i'm more distraught than when we started. pick that box up for me by the way, i'm going for a drive."
a/n: super short chapter but I needed to get it out since i'm back in the ville and college about to have its foot in my behind. mantra for the year: "it's not about the outcome, it's about the pattern."
