my boo - jamal turner

Scarlett

Lani pov

Oscar's frantic search for me had reached a crescendo, and the chaos within the house mirrored the tumult within his soul. As I stood in the doorway, observing the collision of emotions, Sad Eyes greeted me with a tired nod before I stepped inside. The familiar disorder of the house seemed to have escalated during my absence, the remnants of empty beer bottles bearing witness to the inner turmoil.

Navigating my way to my room, I found it surprisingly untouched – a small sanctuary amidst the tempest outside. As I began the task of organizing my belongings, the front door swung open, revealing an agitated Oscar."Is she back, fool?" His voice cut through the air, accompanied by a crash that reverberated with the intensity of his search. The raw emotion in his words and the fervor of his pursuit spoke volumes about the internal struggles he grappled with in my absence."Where is she, bro? I need her! Do you not fucking realize how the fuck am I meant to know where she is? She could have a fucking green light. I don't know where she is, that scares me, bro! She won't reply to my texts. She isn't a Jamal! Where is she, man?" Oscar's cries carried the weight of his fear and desperation, echoing through the once-familiar walls.

In the stillness that followed, the door creaked open, revealing me in the doorway. "Ossie," I whispered, and he turned around, eyes widening in a mix of shock and relief. Without hesitation, he rushed toward me, wrapping me in a desperate embrace.

"Bubs, I am so, so sorry for everything," he cried into my shoulder, his voice trembling with regret. I managed a small smile, my fingers finding solace in running through his hair.

"We all mess up, Oscar. I made mistakes, too. But I love you, Oscar, you know that," I uttered, each word carrying the weight of our shared history. The room hung heavy with unspoken emotions, a fragile bridge spanning the chasm of our strained relationship.

The revelation of my return settled the restless energy within the house. As the dust of chaos gradually settled, Oscar and I found a moment to sit down and discuss the uncertain path that lay ahead. "Oscar, do you think I'd ever be able to go to college?" I queried, a hint of hope in my voice. His reaction was genuine surprise, reflecting the harsh reality of my criminal record standing as a barrier to traditional opportunities.

"I would usually say us Diaz can do anything, but the chance of you getting in with a criminal record is low," he admitted, a somber acknowledgment of the challenges that lay ahead. It stung, the dream of escaping Freeridge slipping further away.

His next suggestion caught me off guard. "How would you feel about starting runs?" he proposed, and confusion clouded my expression."I thought you never wanted your little girl doing runs?" I remarked, recalling his protective stance on the matter. Oscar sighed and joined me on the couch, a pensive expression lingering on his face.

"Of course, I don't want you doing runs, but it's in the blood. You're growing up, and all of us want to change our lives, but sometimes we can't," he confessed, his voice laden with the weight of regret. As he continued, the truth unfolded – opportunities to break free from the cycle had been presented, but they were forsaken.

"I had a chance to give this all up, to give this all to Sad Eyes, move to the beach, raise you somewhere apart from the ghetto. But I didn't want to disappoint Dad, so I just kept going. I regret it now. I want the best for you, but sometimes we can't stop it," he admitted, his words a poignant reflection of the choices made and the enduring consequences.

With a gentle kiss on my head, Oscar retreated to his room, leaving me to contemplate the complexities of our shared Diaz legacy.

IThe pain struck deep as I walked to Jamal's house and witnessed Scarlet emerging in his shirt. My emotions erupted, and I confronted her with fury. "What the fuck," I spat, my voice laced with anger. Scarlet laughed callously, dismissing my distress with a smirk. "What little miss ghetto lost her man really does suck, doesn't it?" she taunted. I held back my temper, knowing my parole prevented me from escalating the situation. "You're lucky I'm on parole, or I would've messed you up," I warned her.

Scarlet revealed Jamal's whereabouts, claiming they had just finished an intimate encounter. The revelation cut deep, shattering the idea that Jamal and I were each other's first for everything. The pain of that betrayal stung more than any physical altercation.Walking away, I stumbled upon Jamal. 

His casual greeting aggravated my hurt. "Hey, Lani," he smiled, approaching me. I pushed him away, unable to contain my frustration. "What's wrong?" he inquired, oblivious to the storm brewing within me. "Fuck you, man! Fuck you!" I vented, pointing accusingly at him. I unleashed my pent-up feelings, tracing the timeline of my unrequited love since the day we met, even through his relationship with Olivia and his departure from town.

"But now? I come to your house to see that the fucking hoe Scarlet is there, in your hoodie, saying you just messed around. What the fuck?" I seethed. The revelation of their liaison shattered the romantic narrative Jamal and I had crafted. His protestations fell on deaf ears as I began to walk away.

"Lani, please wait," he pleaded. I turned around, tears streaming down my face. "No, I can't wait any longer, Jamal. I'm sick of being played. Just as I think everything is perfect with us again, one of us messes up. And this time, it was you. But I'm done, over it," I declared, wiping my tears. Jamal, in a choked voice, professed his love for me, referring to me as his girl and his boo.

"You should've thought about that. For now, I just need a break. I'm sorry, Jamal. Maybe you and Scarlet deserve each other," I said, walking away, grappling with the realization that love, even when genuine, might not always be enough to shield one from heartbreak. Perhaps Oscar's protective instincts were right all along.