The Deep End

Chapter 6

-Like controlla, controlla... "Controlla" by Drake

Chapter 6

Dad: Boy, if I have to call you again... You think you're grown now? Huh? You will do what I say, you are a child. My child!

Wyatt sighed, closing his eyes for a moment before stuffing his iPhone into his pocket. He refused to sit around and argue with his father all day. They had been bickering for the last three weeks and Wyatt was tired of it. He needed a fucking break and he was going to get one. He parked his car, whipping the steering wheel with ease as he put it in park. He got out, stretching his sore limbs. He had been overworking himself in the gym lately. Every time he felt the familiar pulls of anxiety or stress he went for a run or headed straight to the gym. Or sat down to write. He had several notebooks, all of them filled to the brink with short stories and prose.

Poetry that he was embarrassed of writing. And yet he couldn't help it. The words seemed to spill from him and he had no choice but to write them down, or else they would float around in his head for days, like a bad song on repeat. He rubbed at his growing beard, the sterling silver tiger shaped ring on his finger cold against his overheated skin. He shook away the thoughts of poetry and bad writing and Tia moved to the forefront.

Who the fuck did she think she was? He had to admit that he still thought she was attractive but she was irritating. He had enough going on in his life already, he didn't need to add another person to his life who was going to nag him. He rounded his car, heading for the apartment complex that housed the kick back. The apartments were nice, stacked neatly on top of one another, they each had carpet and large living room spaces adorned with wide windows. He twisted at the ring on his finger as he headed up the stairs, with each flight the sound of a heavy bass speaker grew louder and louder. Voices were suddenly audible and he grinned. He was ready for what lay beyond the door that separated him from a good time, a release from the real world.

"I don't really smoke." Tia said with her hands up. The blunt was being passed and she happened to be standing in its pathway. The guy holding the blunt was gone off the henny, his eyes red and puffy. The smell of liquor and weed seemed to waft from his hair, his pores...

He tsked at her, "Take a puff or pass it, damn."

She sighed before taking it from his hands and passing it to the girl sitting beside her. The girl was obviously gone. Her eyes glossed over from one too many drinks. She took the blunt with shaky hands, sucking in a puff weakly. Tia stood up, excusing herself from the intoxicated circle. She moved past groups of people drunkenly mingling and the occasional kissing couple and headed straight for the kitchen area. She glanced through the snacks that hadn't been fingered through and gave up when she saw nothing appetizing.

"Tia, you having fun, girl?" Shai, her best friend, said merrily as she neared her.

Tia gave her the fakest smile she could muster. "Yeah, I'm having so much fun. Thanks for the invite."

Shai rolled her eyes, crossing her arms, "If you would loosen up a little bit, maybe you would have some fun."

"Girl-," Shai cut her off, "Tia, come on. You're pretty, you're thick as hell and you're young. Have some fucking fun. It's Friday night." Shai reached for one of the Hennessy bottles that sat on the counter surrounded by solo cups. She poured some of the Hennessy into one of the empty cups and shoved it toward Tia.

"Let loose, damn it. I didn't invite you here to be bored and ready to go."

Tia stared at her before sighing, snatching the cup from her hand. "Fine, but don't expect me to get crazy, ok?"

Shai smiled, "Ok, whatever you say."

Tia brought the cup to her lips and threw her head back, drinking the liquor down like a shot. It burned on its way down and she made a face, wiping at her lips.

Shai raised a brow before filling the cup again.

Wyatt laughed as he gave his friends dap. A few of the other football players nodded at him, offering him a hit of what they were smoking. He took it and took a long puff, before coughing.

"Bro, what the fuck is this?" Wyatt asked as he caught his breath.

Dre shrugged comfortably against the couch he lounged on, "It's called Free."

Wyatt passed the blunt before raising a brow at his friend. "Nigga, you are gone."

Dre laughed, the sound deep and hearty, coming straight from his chest. Wyatt couldn't help but chuckle. "You don't need no more drinks tonight. Yo ass is not gone be able to function if you drink anymore."

Dre just laughed harder, holding onto his side. "Man...shit, you probably right. I don't even remember how long I been here."

Wyatt shook his head, "Where is Mike?"

Dre pointed toward the kitchen, "He was talking to a big booty broad from Texas. She was fine. Her head was big as fuck though."

Wyatt burst out laughing, "You know what, Dre? I'm not playing with your cross faded ass. I'll be back, chill for the rest of the night, man. Go easy on the Cardi."

Before Dre could respond Wyatt was making his way across the crowded space, heading for the kitchen. He spotted Mike and gave him play once they were close. Mike gave him a cup. It was filled with a shot of Bacardi. He took the drink, swallowing down the warm contents, feeling the familiar burn that came with the liquor.

"Devon is giving out brownies." Mike said as he took a drink from his own cup.

"Word? I don't know about that. I have to drive tonight. You can have fun fucking with his shit though."

Mike chuckled, "Nah, I know better. The last time I ate one of that nigga brownies, I was seeing aliens and shit."

They both laughed at the memory. "I'm good on all the shit he be cooking up."

"He got that Cali shit. Stuff strong as fuck."

"Where the shorty at you followed over here? Dre said her head was big."

Mike tsked before laughing again, "He get on my nerves. Her head is not big. But her ass? Her ass fat as hell. I'm definitely hitting her up tonight."

Wyatt smirked, his dimples sinking in. "Look at you, growing up and shit."

Mike nudged him in the side, "Man, shut up."

Before Wyatt could say anything, Mike nudged him again, this time pointing out a girl drunkenly slumped against a wall. "Bro...She gone off the Henny."

Wyatt started to shake his head, a chuckle on his lips as he turned to see who Mike was talking about. His eyes landed on a girl wearing skin tight jeans, a red halter top that slightly showed off her stomach. The girl's hair was neatly braided into a halo, soft tendrils on the side framing her face. Even in the dim lighting, and the squinty look to her eyes he could tell the girl was pretty. Wyatt started to comment but froze as another girl walked over to her, causing the girl to shift, making her fall forward.

"Damn. It's barely 11." He said as he shook his head.