Too Far Gone (Urban)

34| The Dumps

Chenelle twirled her fry in her ketchup cup absentmindedly while Shaundi droned on about some party her and Raul went to last night. Usually, she didn't mind listening to her talk—she had a cute little voice that anyone could listen to, doesn't matter who you are—but today she wasn't feeling it. She could tell Pierce wasn't feeling it either by the way he was staring at his tray.

     Raul eyed the both of them occasionally, then looked at Shaundi and shook his head at her lack of awareness. After a few moments, he pulled out his phone and started typing something into it. Then, a few seconds later, Chenelle's phone buzzed, shifting closer to her tray.

From Raul:
You two okay?

     Chenelle glimpsed at Pierce, who already had his eyes on her phone. His dark brown eyes met hers then to Raul. Raul looked at the both of them again. Chenelle unlocked her phone and replied with: We're fine, just not feelin' it today.

     Chenelle flipped her phone face down and leaned into Pierce, stealing a fry from off his tray. He didn't even put up a fight. Shaundi finally noticed their distress and stopped talking, a worried look etched on her pale face.

     "Hey, what's wrong?" She questioned, "You two take some bad drugs or something?"

Chenelle and Pierce frowned simultaneously. Raul rolled his neck and looked at Shaundi.

     "I'm just tired I guess," She lied. She couldn't stop thinking about Jayden, and she knew Pierce couldn't either. Add on their little pep talk, and they both carried the weight of anxiety over the months to come. They still didn't know if Pierce was going to be fathering another child, they didn't know if Russia was expecting, and they didn't know how to deal with Jayden if she was, even though Jayden isn't Chenelle's child. This month just sucked to them.

     "Just cause I'm a pothead, don't mean I'm dumb," Shaundi scoffed. She grabbed a handful of Chenelle's fries and stuffed them into her mouth, chewing a bit before finishing her statement. "Whatever's going on, you can't let it bring you down."

     "Shaundi, you don't even know the half of it," Pierce growled. Shaundi shrugged and took a sip of her soda, swallowing.

     "True, but what I do know is that letting problems linger around ain't doing shit. You gotta take it head on. Ain't that right, Raul?"

     "Sólo dejar de hablar," Raul groaned, "just stop talking, Shaundi, you're not helping."

     "But wait, let me finish!" Shaundi pleaded. She sat tall and proud in her seat. "If you let your woes eat at your mind, you'll go brain dead."

     Raul, Pierce, and Chenelle stared at Shaundi blankly, exchanging confused glances with each other. Shaundi folder her arms over her chest and smiled as if she said the most important thing in the world. Chenelle shook her head, rolled her eyes and took a sip of her own soda.

     "Alright, no more angel dust for you," Raul declared, standing up from the table. He grabbed his tray along with hers and headed towards the trash cans, followed by Shaundi who pleaded for her soda cup. Chenelle looked at Pierce, really looked at him.

     "What?" Pierce asked.

     "I still think you shouldn't have kicked him out," Chenelle responded. She leaned her elbow on the table and cradled her fluffy head of hair in her hands. Pierce rolled his eyes and shifted himself in his seat.

     "He's out of the house, not out of the state. I don't know why you're worried about that."

     "Well, what if he resents you because of it? For taking his freedom?"

     "He'll be fine. He has Jeremiah and Mel to keep him company; and knowing them, they'll get him into trouble on their own," He took another sip from his soda. "Besides, my main concern right now is that baby... I don't know how that's going to affect our relationship."

     "What?"

     Pierce set his cup aside and placed his hand over Chenelle's free one. He trained his eyes on her smooth, bronze skin, caressing her with his thumb. "I've been meaning to tell you something for a while now..."

He examined her for a few moments longer before bringing his eyes up to meet hers. "Chenelle, I think I'm f—"

Raul cut him off at possibly the worse time. "Alright you two, we gotta bring Shaundi home, 'cause right now, she's trying to touch the manager and I don't think he appreciates that."

     The three glanced over at Shaundi, who was attempting to get busy with the manager at the moment. Raul groaned and jogged towards them, leaving Chenelle and Pierce alone momentarily. Chenelle turned back to Pierce, "You were saying?"

     "Huh? Oh! Uh..." He scratched the back of his head. "I think I'm... I'm f-full."

Chenelle slit her eyes at and glowered. "Did you have to be so dramatic about it? Don't do that shit, you had me on edge for nothing."

     Pierce wanted to pull her back when she got up and grabbed his tray, but he couldn't. He already failed and the moment had since passed. He fucked it up. He reluctantly stood from his chair and followed the rest of his friends outside and across the parking lot to his vehicle. Watching the stars' faint light peek through the orange atmosphere, he just wanted the day to end already.

He tossed his keys onto his couch and trudged to his room. The house was too quiet, no giggles or shooting sounds coming from those violent ass video games. He had this small house all to himself, yet now it felt too big for him, empty, like the hole in his heart.

     He wasn't used to being completely alone. He was either with his cousins or Jayden or Chenelle, never solo. Even before Jayden was born and dropped into his life, he had Trinity over all the time. Some people took pride in their solitude; he wasn't one of those people. It made him feel as if he didn't exist, swimming around in an empty space where no eyes lingered to, no one to save him from the inner thoughts he ignored for so long.

     It was then his thoughts brought up Trinity. He wasn't too sure he missed her. He was mostly worried about the child she carried, if it was his, and how he'd have to deal with it. He never took care of an infant before. When Jayden was dropped off, he was already walking, talking, and eating on his own. He didn't have to carry him around or change his diapers, and how was he supposed to be a father in this line of work? He couldn't just drop out, he was in this gang until he died—a life sentence engraved on stone, a predetermined fate.

He was already dead for all he knew.

     The riff of his phone dragged him out of his darkened mind and back to reality. He gasped, squeezed his eyes open and close, then rubbed them with one hand while he felt around for his phone. It was dark; he hadn't flicked his light on the way in. The faint blue glow of the tiny phone screen provided a hint of visibility, enough for him to see and pick up his phone. The noise ceased. One missed call.

He expected it to be Chenelle, but the seven letters on the screen said otherwise.

Two missed calls from Trinity, one text.

From Trinity:
I need you, Rascal isn't the father

✝