BFF

Going out

Tia's POV

I woke up all over Dave, his warmth wrapped around me. I got up and started my morning routine: brushing my teeth, cleansing my face, taking my meds, hopping in the shower, and getting dressed. I did everything, then unwrapped my hair and let it fall naturally, parting it to the side. I only had one class today, so I threw on some leggings and kept it simple.

I heard Dave groan behind me.

"Take them tight-ass leggings off," he said, still half-asleep.

"They supposed to be like that," I replied, smirking at him through the mirror.

"I'm not tryna have to kill a nigga cause they can't keep their hands to themselves," he muttered.

"What if I want them to touch?"

Dave shot his eyes open and gave me that look. That don't fuck with me look.

It seemed like every time I wore something fitted, dudes started acting up, and Dave had to check somebody. Some men really don't know how to act. They think every girl belongs to them.

"Yeah, alright," Dave said, brushing it off.

"I'll be fine, I promise. What you doing today?"

"Chilling. But I gotta take somebody to lunch."

"Ooo who is somebody? Let me find out you dating somebody."

"Cakes, please. It's just my friend."

"Well, what's her name?"

"Stop being nosey. You about to be late."

"Alright, see you later, big head."

"See you later, Cakes. I love you."

"I love you too."

I grabbed Dave's keys and dipped out in his Benz. Oh well.

On the way to class, I stopped for some McDonald's. Today we were coloring real hair and bundles. This stuff excites me — it's why I love coming to class.

Brandy texted me: "We going out tonight, biotch."

Me: "Lol where we going?"

Brandy: "You'll see. Mention my name, bring the whole Cali out."

Me: "Yeah I hate you 😂😂😂 bye."

Brandy wasn't lying. She's one of the best-known makeup artists around and damn good at what she does.

I did a honey blonde on my natural hair and purple on the wig. They both came out so freaking good.

After class, I drove to my momma house, listening to that song Dave put me on:

"Ain't no fake rap beef / Nigga I don't play around / Skuba Steve had 6 shooters at the playground / Lay down or laid down..."

I rapped along the whole way.

"Ma!!!" I called as I walked in.

"Don't be yelling in this house, Tia," Kim said.

"Girl, shut up," I laughed, and we hugged.

"Mama and Daddy went grocery shopping."

"Oh? How you been, girly?"

"Good. I'm dating this guy."

"Dave gon' have a field day with this one. How old is he? What's his name?"

"Do NOT tell Dave yet. I'll tell him when I'm ready. His name's Izzy. He's 24."