Raymond 'Rooster' Jones is a 21 year old man who didn't come from money and is from the other side of the tracks. Raised by his aunt and uncle. Rooster who should be enjoying life as any 21 year old kid should be doing. But Rooster's life is not abo...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
JADA
Me and Rooster are back together for a good three months. It was mid-November, and I was incredibly happy. We had so much fun together. I still have my own place I don't plan on moving in with him just yet. I think it's better this way, and I turned the other bedroom that was ole girls room into Rima and Rayna's room.
I've been getting them more and more just being a mom to them. And I have been getting to know Rayna more and sometimes I need to call Rooster and ask a question but other than that things are perfect. Right now Rooster was here and he just got done helping me put the girls to bed and we were waiting on my brother to get here to babysit for me.
"You haven't noticed?" I asked
"Um, no. I've been more interested in your, um, eyes."
I closed my eyes. "Gee, I could have sworn you've been staring somewhat lower. What color are my eyes, Rooster?"
Rooster kissed me on my forehead. "You can open your eyes, baby. They're a nice soft brown."
I smiled and put my arms around Rooster's neck. I kissed him softly on the lips. "Thank you for the compliment. I don't believe anyone's noticed my eyes before."
Rooster smiled. "You have a pretty face. And I like the way your hair frames your cheeks."
I kissed Rooster again. "Mmm, Rima is right, you are sweet she said that the other day." I said and he smiled then touched his heart. My dad and brother finally showed up and took the girls to let us be alone, but my dad did tell Rooster to keep his hands to himself then they left. They left so we could do homework together. I was marveling at his new hair, which was still black, but he'd gotten a few subtle blonde streaks. It was so sexy. Not only that, but he was wearing those horn-rimmed prescription glasses—because we all know those people who put them on even though they have perfect vision—with his hair dangling in front of his face, wrinkling his nose at his complicated math homework. We're talking calculus, AKA pointless confusion.
I was reading a book for one of my English classes, highlighting the sentences that seemed important. But I was so not focusing. Rooster was sitting there in his short-sleeved Atreyu t-shirt, looking like a grown scene kid, with that sleeve tattoo winking at me. He actually looked like he was doing work, too, the way he kept furiously rubbing the eraser bits from his page. I tapped my highlighter against the page, trying to focus. Fail.
"Rooster, how's it going?"
He gave me the thumbs up. "Almost finished. How about you?" He said, without looking up.
I shook my head. "I can't focus. Maybe I need to go take a shower or something."
I kid you not, his eyes popped open wide as soon as I said 'shower.'
Rooster took off his glasses. "Right now?" he asked
I sighed. "Yeah. It's one of my many ways of procrastinating."
