URBAN

ELEVEN

ASHANTI

I woke up groaning. I had the worst headache and a bad case of deja vu. And for some reason, I felt so embarrassed. I opened my eyes and saw Keem walking in, shirtless, eating cornflakes.

"So you're not gonna say nothing?" he asked.

"What?" I rubbed my temple. I have the worst hangovers.

He chuckled and leaned on his dresser, casually, eating his breakfast. "How did you get here?" he asked. "Do you even remember?"

I shook my head rubbing my eyes, not wanting this conversation.

"And you're still fucking waved," he continued in a lower voice.

"I'm not waved." I muttered. "And, so what, I drove here,"

"Do you know how to drive?" he asked.

"Well, clearly. I got here without killing anyone," I sat up.

"Do you know how to drive?" he repeated.

I tied my hair up. "I'm gonna go,"

"No, you don't know how to drive," he continued, ignoring my comment. "That's why Gram's car is out in the front all fucking mashed up," he shut the door so I couldn't leave. "What the fuck were you thinking? Driving drunk? In the middle of the fucking night?!"

"Why are you shouting at me?" I looked at him.

"Cos you could've fucking ended up in pen or dead and I fucking care about you, that's why I'm fucking shouting at you, Ashanti!" he stopped and put the bowl down on his dresser.

"But I'm here, aren't I?!" I shouted back.

He ran his hand through his curly hair and clenched his jaw. "That's not the point, Ti. You let people's words wire how you act."

"That's not tr-"

"Let me fucking finish," he cut me off. "You shouldn't give a fuck about other niggas' opinions of us."

I didn't say anything. I know I'm in the wrong and I know he has every right to be angry at me.

"You know who I am and the shit I'd do. Just cos I haven't fucked you yet doesn't mean I don't want you." he was so serious. "I'm so fucking tired of people assuming what they don't know! This why I'm out here, killing niggas cos everybody always fucking up!" his voice was loud and angry as if it wasn't just me he was mad at. The muscles in his arms flexed as he clenched his fists. He exhaled loudly and shook his head.

He had that dangerous look in his eye. And he was looking right at me.

Why was I turned on?

His voice deepened. "If you want me to fuck you right now and treat you like I've treated bitches in the past, I'll do it. Easy. No fucking problem."

I made sure I didn't look like his tone was affecting me.

"But I'm not gonna cah I respect you," he said in a more gentle tone.

I looked away, annoyed at myself, what was I thinking? This is the second time I'm accusing him of something he hasn't done. I'd dump me right here.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly.

"Stop," he shut his eyes. "Stop apologising. Just don't fucking do it again,"

I nodded and looked up, annoyed that I had tears in my eyes. "Should I go?" I asked.

"Nah," he breathed heavily through his mouth. "Chill,"

I sniffed and left the room, going into the bathroom. Once I heard Keem go downstairs, I sighed and sat on the floor, against the door, head in my hands.