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𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐭 | 𝟎𝟖
"playing games"
"You should've been doing your essay instead of riding dick," Nella said blandly, staring at Junele who sat hunched over in the passenger seat of Junele's car. They were parked out front—it was Junele's day to carpool and Faviana sat in the backseat, a small pout on her face, JBL headphones on while she stared out of the window as if she was in a dramatic soap opera.
"I miss my man," she sighed loudly, but the two older girls ignored her—not even sparing her a single glance.
"I'm telling you, Nel, I'on know who taught SJ how to eat puss—"
"Aight, my sister is in the car, Junie," Nella frowned, cutting her off, making Faviana roll her eyes.
"I'm just saying, I thought I had this essay under control," Junele confessed, scratching her head as she stared down at her MacBook screen. "But how am I supposed to convince the audience that self-directed learning is better than the conventional schooling system? Bro, I don't even do my work with my teachers breathing down my neck—I sure as hell ain't doing it on my own."
"Why would you even choose a topic like that?" Nella laughed, leaning back in the passenger's seat.
"It sounded interesting," Junele muttered, deleting the sentence she'd literally just typed, "I need to be interested in order to do my schoolwork. I'm not doing my essay on no stupid shit like... why democracy is better than an autocracy—bitch, I don't care!"
"And that's on period," Faviana nodded, swiping her hand across her neck swiftly.
"Girl, you better hurry it up—its due tonight," Nella shook her head, peering down at Junele's MacBook screen, "you only have fifteen words down... and the majority of it is the essay's title, Junie."
"I got it," Junele waved her off, "my baba don't even play that shit. He will dead crucify me if I come home wit' less than one hundred."
"Word to, Junie's dad is scary," Faviana grimaced, playing with the small keychain of a pink Glock that Ddot had given her, "honestly, the patois is so strong I get nervous when he talks to me sometimes."
"Baba just chattin' forreal," Junele mumbled, her eyes glued to her screen, "he plays too much until it comes to my grades and my mom be the same way."
"Yeah, you needa leave that weed alone," Nella remarked, using her phone to take a short Snapchat video of herself to save in her memories, "have y'all seen my man though? I only saw him for like an hour today." Nella pouted, catching a glimpse of an old video of her and Jay she'd taken a few days ago—she had her arms slung around his neck, and she'd recorded herself, her acrylic nails caressing the back of his neck as he lit his blunt. They were in the back of the school with everyone in a stairwell—they'd all skipped last period, fucking around and talking. Just the video alone made a smile appear on Nella's face, and she watched it a few times consecutively before the sadness really kicked in, and she reluctantly locked her phone screen.
