Ty'Lia's momma was trying to grant a favor. Mother to mother, she understood that having a child move out is hard. She would want them to be safe at all times, so she offered her friend's son a place to stay until he officially got on his feet. Nobo...
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If I drop out of school now, I wonder if I can still get a decent job. Or I can become a First Lady. Or just beg on the streets.
"TIME TO GET UPPPPP!" I heard my mother's voice loud and clear. I sigh as I heard doors open and shut. I put a pillow over my head.
Having a free day to myself wouldn't affect my grades that much.
Five minutes later, she yells again.
"TY'LIA GRACE, YOU NEED TO BE MAKING YOUR WAY DOWN HERE!" I groan and sit up straight. Despite being sleepier than ever, I get up and do my hygiene routine and straighten up my room. I walk down the steps, clutching my book bag in one hand, phone in the other. I walked towards the table where my family was sitting.
It was the usual site—Calvin was talking everybody's ears off while his mouth was full of Reese's Puffs, Quade was listening to music through his EarPods, Neeva was reading a book about black culture, Emanuel was on his phone, my mama was scooping grits on everybody's plates, and my dad was looking as tired as I felt.
"Ty, you know how you got when you don't eat breakfast. You need to wake up earlier."
"Yes ma'am." I mumbled as I sat down. My family consisted of my mama, daddy, and their six kids. Yeah, you read right: six. And any minute now, six is gonna be eight, mama is pregnant with twins again.
It's me (I'm 17), my twin brother Emanuel, my older sister Kelsey (20), my brother Quade [Kwa-day] (15), my sister Janeeva (12), and my brother Calvin (8). My parents are what you would probably call "old fashioned". They made us dress up and go to church every Sunday, they never disrespected each other around us, and we always ate together. We said "yes ma'am" "no ma'am" and rarely went against them. They believed that babies we're a blessing and felt "the more the merrier".
Seven years ago, we lived in the good houses on the bad side of Savannah. Now, we live in Atlanta. I can't really complain about my life. I had people that loved me, and my parents got me most of whatever I wanted despite having a basketball team to feed.
"Have a good day, Kevin." My dad kissed my mama on the cheek and laid a hand on her pregnant belly.
"Bye dad." We called out, except Quade. Quade was listening to what my parents often called "That Devil Music". I think him and Emanuel the only people in the house who listened to rap—or anything other than gospel for that matter. They complained quietly as long as they didn't play it out loud. Mama sat down at the table with her own big plate. She tapped the table space in front of Quade, meaning to turn the music off. He tapped his phone and looked up.
"Ma'am?" He asks dryly.
"So, I was talking to my friend about a week ago. She said her son is looking for a condo out here, and while he was he was gonna stay in a hotel. Now, even though I don't agree with his...employment arrangements, I wanted to help. His mom wants to be sure that he has a safe place to go every night, so I offered him the guest room until he finds somewhere to go."
