forty-eight [ ON HOLD ]

four

chapter four// friday, march 15

day seven.

It was officially the first week of the forty-eight days. This meant I had fourty-one days until I was suppose to hand in seventy-five thousand dollars to Jermaine. In a matter of a week, I had seven thousand dollars. I was pretty proud of myself, for I went from having one thousand dollars, to having seven thousand. I sighed gratefully, laying down in my bed staring up at my ceiling. It was ten thirty, and in about fourty-five minutes, I'd be catching a ride with Jordan for our weekly meet up at Sin City. Emmanuel insisted on all of us attending this. This meeting was hight unesscary. Emmanuel claimed that he held these meetings so that we could discuss all the rules that had changed prior to our previous meeting. I groaned. I much rather be at home bored out of my mind, then attending a meeting full of stripper desperate for a one night stand.

I shook my head, shocked at how hyprocital I sounded. I was judging strippers, when in reality, I was doing the same thing they were doing, except their's was out in the open. I groaned, hopping out of bed and throwing on my Keds. Instead of wearing my usual bartending outfit, I decided to go for something simple. I didn't bartend on Friday's, so my attire wasn't to impress anybody. For example, today I had on a simple blouse with black shorts. I was surprised at how good I looked for for a good three months after the passing of my mother and incarceration of my father, my style of clothes had dropped to like a zero. It didn't start getting until of course, I met Jermaine. Even though he seemed like a complete ass now, he'd been there for me.

I got up, grabbing my phone from the charger before walking out my door. Ayako and Aron were once again playing Candyland. I found it hilarious how even after tons of time playing it, Aron still couldn't win. You would think that he'd be letting her win, but in reality, Ayako had tried many times to make the game easier for him, but it just never worked. I smiled at them, waving them goodbye as I made my way towards the parking lot of the apartment. Jordan promised she'd be here on time, but knowing Jordan and her consistancy of being late, it was smart of me not to get my hopes up. I sat down on a bench that was left there, taking in the beautiful night sky.

Atlanta was gorgeous. Even though I'd only lived here for a good five years, Atlanta seemed like home to me. Alot better than Mississippi. Despite the contrary beliefs of Mississippi being filled with farmers and rednecks, Mississippi was quite ghetto. There were the prissy white kids of course, but the area I lived in was filled with country ass black people with loud mouths. I didn't quite fit in there (you know, despite the fact that I'm only fifty percent black.) I was a quiet teen, only hanging out with a significant amount of friends. Once in a while I'd break out of my shell, but all in all, I didn't fit in with the flamboyant Mississippi kids.

The sound of a car horn interupted me from my thoughts. My head shot up, turning towards the direction of the loud sound. I saw Jordan pull up in her Honda Oddsey, running her mouth on the phone as usual. I smirked to myself, getting up from the bench and dusting my clothes off. I headed towards Jordan's car, hopping into the passenger seat, buckling in my seatbelt before turning towards Jordan. "Nice of your ass to finally stop by." I stated, chuckling. Jordan flicked me off before pulling out towards the strip club.

"Gerad was being a bitch about watching the kids." She informed me, shaking her head. I nodded understandingly, for Gerad had never been fond of being alone with the kids. "Oh, so I talked to Gerad about the bbq for St Patrick's Day. It's on Saturday the sixteenth, but you know how our parties go. We'll be there till the seventeenth." She stated chuckling. I nodded, not really paying attention. I had Caden now, so the rich men that would be there would be nothing but eye candy for me. Jordan talked along the way, barely letting me get any words in. But it was how are relationship went. And even if I did get a chance to speak, the possibilites of me having anything nice to say were about zero percent.