Blame It On The Streets

LA Confidential Pt. 2

{June 1st Wednesday 6:30 pm}
Teyana.

"What you watching baby girl?" Keenon plops in the bed next to me.

"I don't know what this is." I respond, playing Stack on my phone.

"Babe you suck." He chuckled watching me play.

"Shut up." I laugh. "I bet my high score is higher than yours."

"What's your high score?"

"64."

"64?!" He repeats. "Girl get outta here. My high score is 1738."

I laugh loud. "Boy shut the fuck up. What is it really?"

"It's like 105."

"Damn. What do you be doing? Playing this game anytime you can?"

"Yup."

"You would think you're getting paid for it."

"I might as well be, I'm that good at it."

"You ain't that good."

"Better than you." He mumbled.

I rolled my eyes. He takes the remote off of my lap and goes to guide.

"You're watching Cake Wars, Teyana seriously?"

"I told you I wasn't paying attention to the tv."

"Then why is it even on? Damn making the cable bill all high and shit for no reason."

"Chill out you be doing the same shit acting like you're watching ESPN when your eyes be closed and you snoring and when I change the channel then you wanna wake up."

We both laughed.

"When's the last time that's shit happened?"

"Last night."

"Stop fucking lying. You know damn well what we was doing last night."

I looked him up and down. "Yeah I do know, we were fighting over the remote. Don't know what you was dreaming about."

"I wasn't dreaming."

"Wet dreams thinking that I'm smashing but I'm sleeping." I sing, knowing that I'm annoying him. "You must want it bad." I continue.

"Shut up." She pulls me onto his lap.

I laid my head on his shoulder, my eyes scanning every tv show title that he passes. "Ooh turn on Hot Bench."

"Nah fuck a Hot Bench."

"Come on please."

"Nah."

"Please."

"No."

"Please."