Trill Paradox (A Mindless Behavior Story)

29- Warning Signs.

7:37 PM

- Chresanto.

Hey Chresanto. I Got That Note That You Gave My Friend Ashley, And My Answer Is .  . . YES! I Will Go To The Dance W/ You. ♥♥♥ I'm Going To My Aunt's House Beforehand, So You Can Pick Me Up From There (It's Five Blocks Away From Campus, I'll Text You The Address).

I Will Make Thursday Night Worth Your While ;)

- Yours Truly , Benze.

I smirked to myself, reading over the message that Benze sent me. I couldn't lie; I was feeling myself because I had scored a good-looking date—like I knew I would. How could Benze say no to me? I was smart, had style, and I was handsome. I had her in the bag as soon as I made eye contact with her. That was a given fact. I could have any girl I wanted in Mercy Hall.

Any girl except for Jah, my subconscience picked at me. I rolled my eyes at the thought. My fingers began to glide over the touch screen keyboard of my iPhone when I heard the doors to the library open. I didn't even bother to look in the direction because it was probably someone leaving or coming in to do a last-minute checkout on a book.

  "I will make Thursday night worth your while," I heard someone say from behind me. I jumped in surprise, almost dropping my phone out of my hands. Craig appeared from behind me chuckling. He sat in the seat beside me, placing a paper bag with two plastic containers on the table. From what I could see, the containers had food in them.

"Who is that from?" Craig inquired.

"Not sure if I should tell you since you almost made me drop my phone," I snarled. He laughed and put his backpack under his seat. "Just know that her name's Benze and she's going to be my date for the dance."

"Benze? Sounds familiar. I think that was one of the girls who tried to ask me to the dance."

My eyebrows knitted confusedly. "And you said no? That girl is fine! And I know you seen the back dimples."

He shook his head. "She's a gold digger; the Kim Kardashian of this school. She's too Hollywood for me. That's what you like. I don't."

"I don't think she'd be a gold digger," I replied, putting my phone in my pocket. "Besides, what type of money could she get out of me? I don't do music like you, I don't have any celebrities as friends or family, nor do I want celebrities as friends or family. I'm just a simple nigga from Compton."

Craig opened up one of the plastic containers, revealing a practical full course meal; country fried steak, gravy over garlic mashed potatoes, cabbage, and a thin slice of cornbread. He dug in the bag for a fork and began to eat. "A simple nigga from Compton that plays basketball. You have potential to play in the NBA. You know that, I know that, and Benze knows that. She sees you as an easy come-up—shit, she sees all of the guys here as easy come-ups. We all can afford to go here for five-thousand a semester, right?"

I was completely distracted by the sight of Craig's food. I hadn't eaten much all day, and seeing how good Craig was eating made my stomach yearn for food in an uproar. Craig must've noticed me staring at his food, because he slid the second container over my way. I smirked, rubbing my hands together.

"Thanks, bro." I said as I opened the container. I had everything that Craig had in his container except for cabbage. It was just the way I liked it. I grabbed a fork and began eating, starting with the steak. The steak crunched between my teeth and its seasonings satisfied my stomach. "Damn! This is hella good. Who made this?"