How y'all kids doing?
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Phylicity
Bryson laid his head down on my leg, and bit into my knee.
I shook him off. "That shit hurts, Bryson"
He was breathing hard, and beads of sweat dripped down his face.
I grabbed hold of his face, and made him look at me. "What's wrong?"
He grunted before standing up and pulling his shirt off.
He grabbed a bag out of his backpack and walked across the gym to sit by himself.
A whole army of niggas turned and looked at me.
"What?" I asked Cydney, feeling my heart beat faster.
"I don't suppose he scratched his own back up like that"
My face flushed red, and they started laughing.
"Shut up" I watched Bryson throw what I assumed was some pills into his mouth.
"Whats wrong with him?" Winnie asked.
"I don't know. He didn't tell me"
He wiped his face down with his shirt, and peeled off the gauze on his arm.
"So how was it?"
I smirked. "I'm not finna tell you how my nigga dicked me down. That's between us"
The coaches blew their whistles, and we all stood up to go to the health room.
I walked towards Bryson as he put his shirt on.
"You okay?" I questioned cautiously, and examined his face.
Mostly his eyes.
"I'm good, boo. You good, yeah?"
He shoved whatever he had in his little bag down, and I lifted up his nearly empty backpack.
"Thanks, boo"
He stepped down from the bleachers, and kissed me on my lips.
"You brought drugs to school?"
"Those ain't nothing. I bring dick to school everday, and that's a lethal weapon"
I wanted Bryson to walk in front of me, but he walked behind me, and squeezed my butt.
"Some love" He requested.
"You're making me nervous" I turned and hugged him.
He threw his good arm around my neck, and kissed my forehead.
"How were you when I was gone?"
"Another time" I said as we stepped into the classroom.
"Oh, you was being bad, yeah?"
"Myers, Tiller. Late"
Bryson sat down at the desk infront of me, and put his head down.
They passed out worksheets, and I took Bryson's to do his work for him.
"Damn, Phyl, is your nigga dead or sleep?"
I shrugged my shoulders. "I'll just leave him alone I guess"
I put one headphone in, because I was still up for conversation.
I been up for two whole days thinking what I did to keep you going
Thumbing through the voicemails that you left me telling me where I went wrong
"You know Bryson doesn't have any friends"
"Oh, so I'm not enough?" I teased.
"No. He needs some niggas"
The only other guy I knew that he was cool with was his father.
"He doesn't like people"
I switched up my handwriting when I wrote on Bryson's paper.
"It's a wonder he likes you. The way he carried yo ass on his first day"
"That's a distant memory" I took my headphone out.
"Arthur said that Eris stopped coming to school"
"Good. I think the bitch was crazy"
"Language!" Coach shouted.
"Sorry" I apologized.
Heather sucked her teeth. "The nigga must have selective hearing"
I finished up my work two minutes before the bell rang.
Everyone left, and I shook Bryson. "Baby"
He was slumped over.
I lifted him up, and he fell out of the desk.
Bryson fell ontop of me, and the desk fell in the other direction.
I kicked it away from us, and groaned.
"Bryson!"
The damned coach had left his own class.
I had pushed him off of me, and shook his face before feeling his neck for a pulse.
He barely had one.
I was shaking so bad, that I had a difficult time holding my phone properly to punch in 911.
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