You know, I've been searching for someone
Who can share that special love with me
And your eyes have that glow
Could it be your face I see on my computer screen
Computer Love~ Zapp and Roger
Bria's Point of View
"Bri!", my grandma's voice shouted. I threw my covers back and headed to freshen myself up. I quickly finished and walked back to my room, pass the 2pac and Malcom X posters. How ironic? 2pac being a gangster rapper and Malcom X a civil rights leader. But to me, they stand for the same things. I walked over to my walk-in closet and picked out my school clothes. I decided on a starter Chicago Bulls jacket and baggy jeans. I paired them with some timb's and put my hair in a Jeanie-style ponie. I did one more once-over and hobbled down my steps. I hurried and kissed my 4'6 grandmother on her velvety-brown cheek."Bria, you look nice.Now hurry up and grab one of them toast so you can be on your way to school.", she said. I nodded my head and walked towards the door, grabbing my bag and the toast. I closed my door and looked around. The 2pac memorials were still new. Even though 'Pac was the best rapper of all time, the memorials only added graffiti to the walls. They looked bad before, but this looked even worse. Let me introduce myself. My name is Bria Loraine Jackson. I'm 15 and l live with my mom and grandmother in Oakland,California. I attend Bayhill High. That's all. I slowed down as I came to the entrance of Bayhill and watched the stream of students walk in. I quickly joined them, not wanting to be late. I walked into the school and ran to my locker. "Hey,Chica!!!!!", my best friend, Leaa shouted. "What up, Le?", I asked, nonchalantly. "Nothing much.Living life.", she answered. Leaa has been my bestfriend since we were in KIndergarten. She was the girl with the colorful shorts and shirt and the BIG curly afro.I was the girl with the plain sweaters and jeans and to plaited pigtalis. Opposites do attract. I said my goodbyes to her and walked to my U.S history class. I bumped into someone. I looked up and saw Sean. He never talked to nobody and he had been in so many fights. I tried to go around him but he pushed me back. "You better pick my shit up.", he said. Trying to avoid drama, I got on my knees and picked his notebook up. I got back up and handed it to him. "Here.", I said. He snatched it and pushed me aside, leaving me stunned.
Sean P.O.V
I walked to U.S history and gave mean mugs to the kids that stopped in my way. I hated this fucking school and everybody in it. And on top of all of that, this little bitch OBVIOUSLY didn't have manners. I strolled into my class, giving no fucks about my teacher. As always, eyes were on me. I flipped them off and pulled out my notebook. I heard an annoying ass noise and turned around to tell them to shut the fuck up. And guess who it turned out to be? The little-no-manner-having ass girl. I snatched the pen away from her and threw it on the floor. She looked up at me and rolled her eyes. I turned back around and averted my attention back to my notebook. My name is Sean Carter. I live in a foster home with 20 other kids with no family. I don't know my story and I don't care to know it. To me, my parents are fucking cowards. Anyway, my hostile attitude is not about my parents. It's simply me being the way everybody should be. I don't get how people can walk around kissing other people's asses and being nice to people they don't even know. That ain't me. If I don't know you, we ain't cool and I have ZERO respect for you. I got one homeboy. Len. He might be a Mexican, but me and him been down since the 2nd Grade. Anyway, back to class. "And that's how the constution came to be.", my teacher, Mr.Cornell, said. No Manners raised her hand. "Bria, question?", Cornell acknowledged. She cleared her throat. "U.S history is nice and all, but I would like to discuss some issues today. Why can't we talk about how high the crime rate is? Or even the racisim against black men? Or even the lack of safety for black children?", she said. Everybody was looking at her now. "Sorry, Ms.Jakson, but I cannot discuss this right now. This class is U.S History, not U.S issues today.", Mr.Cornell explained. As Bria protested, a kid stood up. "Man, just shut up and let him teach the damn class. You always tryna be Captain-Save-Some-Shit", he said. Everybody agreed. "Shut the fuck up. Atleast, she saying something that's good. Yo' dumb ass probably don't want her to say it because you don't comprehend the shit she sayin'. 'Ol stupid ass.", I said, silencing him. He looked at me and stood up. I stood up too, daring him to move. The punk sat down and the bell rung, telling us it was time to go. I grabbed my shit. I can't wait to talk to Len. Just as I was leaving, No manners stopped me. "Hey, um I know we didn't get off on the right foot, but I just wanted to think you for putting that fool in his place.", she said. "Yeah, don't think its because we friends or something, I just don't like disrespectful people.", I said, walking off.
Bria's Point of View
He is such an asshole! I tried to be nice to him and he still has something to say. Like,really? Get a grip. Angry, I plopped down beside Leaa. "What's your deal?",she questioned. "You know that boy Sean who think he all that?", I asked. She nodded her head, confirming her knowledge of him. I explained the situation to her and she smiled. "You don't like him?", she asked. "Girl I would rather date Flavor Flav than his stuck up self.", I said,causing her to erupt in a series of loud giggles. School breezed by and it was time for me to go home. I walked through my door and saw my mom sitting in the plush recliner. Now let me tell you, to be 35 my mama was F-I-N-E! She had it all. Boobs,butt,face,hair,legs and everything else. She worked (not one) but 2 jobs to support me and my aging grandmother. "Hey mama.", I spoke. She looked at me sleepily and smled. "Hey, BumbleBee, how was school?", she questioned. I told her all about Sean and what he did. She laughed and sighed. "He sure sounds like your father.", she said. I could see her mind traveling. Far away. To a time where my father was alive.
