Book 1: She's a Keeper | August Alsina (fin)

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Song in mm is where I got the book title. If you didn't know, aug has a song with snootie wild called She's A Keeper.

Fyi all this happening is in the course of 1 day. The day that August comes back to ATL to make things right. I know it's a lot going on but but I just had to throw some else in there 😊

"Can you please tell me where we're going?"

"Nope," I repeated. "You gettin' on my nerves again, I'm gon' put yo' ass in tha backseat. Keep playin'." I threatened.

She shut ha mouth then.

"Can I?" She asked ta hook up tha aux ta ha phone, I shrugged. She was gon' do it regardless, ion kno' why she even asked.

"You ain't finna be bumpin' that trap shit though, not taday." I warned her.

"But Wugga—" "And you thank callin' me dat gon' make it betta fa you? Not taday. I already watched ya do ya make up ta it. 'Bout ti'ed of that shit. Ain't no mo' taday."

"Finnnee," she whined. "If I can't play trap, can I at least play your music?" She pleaded wit me. I glanced ova at ha and she had ha big ole' puppy dog eyes on.

I hated when she was in this mood. If she wanted ta play trap and I wouldn't let ha, she'd go straight ta ha playlist of my music. I enjoy ha music most when she ain't tryna turn up, that Lyfe, Anthony Hamilton, Lauryn Hill and allat.

I sighed, "Fine, but I ain't sangin' fa you." I agreed.

"That's fine, I'll just sing for you." She grinning as one of my old songs I did fa real started playin', Cool On You.

Listenin' ta me from years ago, my shit was was horrible. Can I say I'm blessed na? I done came a long ass way.

Coming back from my thoughts, I listened ta Cydney sang fa alil while ta tha song. She wasn't half bad actually. Usually she actin' a fool rappin' n' shit, but na she sound decent fa once.

I laughed ta myself, noddin' my head. I just let ha sang ha lil' heart out while I drove us ta get some good food.

*

"So this is why you told me to wear something nice." She said once we were seated.

"Yeah, ain't wanna have you outchea in jeans and a t-shirt like dis Popeye's a'some shit," I shook my head.

The waiter came around and we ordered our drinks. As much as I wanted some liquor, I went against it cause somebody gotta drive. I settled on a Sprite while Cyd got a water with lemon. Ha usual.

"You know you could've gotten some alcohol," she piped up, "I could've drove home."

I 'bout choked on air when she said that, "Hell na, don't nobody drive my baby but me."

She rolled ha eyes, "Whatever, you act like I can't drive."

"I ain't Neva said you can't, I just don't like nobody drivin' my shit otha than me."

She mumbled sum slick shit unda ha breath.

"Hey," I reach across tha table and picked ha face up ta look at me, "Whatchu said? And don't change what you said." I warned.