Naamah
I was sleeping real good before I woke up from the faint smell of marijuana. I honestly don't know what it is; I love smoking but I hate the smell. I'm the type to roll the window down during the hotbox because I feel like I'm suffocating. That's part of the reason why I don't smoke with Jason anymore. This nigga is a heavy weight smoker. Takes about three blunts to get him high, while I'm gone off of half of one. I have baby lungs and I used to run track in high school and college so smoking wasn't something I did when I was younger. I'm twenty-five now and I still can't stop coughing after the first pull.
I threw the comforter off of my body and proceeded to go downstairs in my panties and one of my favorite shirts that I stole from Jason. It was an old long-sleeve dri-fit t-shirt from Michigan University. He played basketball there for two years before he dropped out to start rapping. Did I agree with it? Hell no. But at the end of the day it's his life and it worked in his favor luckily.
As soon as my freshly white pedicured toes stepped out of the threshold of our bedroom I turned right back around to grab some socks. For some reason no matter how warm the house gets the floor is always cold. I guess that's the cons of having marble floors.
I grabbed some long socks and quickly put them on almost falling in the process and headed down to the kitchen to find something to snack on.
I snatched the double doors of the fridge open and unsurprisingly, nothing really caught my eye as I looked around.
"Ain't shit in here..." I mumbled before I moved the milk carton to reveal a bottled strawberry banana smoothie. I grabbed it and turned around to grab a muffin from the granite island when I halted quickly at a foreign body standing behind me.
"Sorry but who are you?" I asked half way knowing it was probably one of Jason's homies. I embarrassingly pulled my shirt down to cover my butt and my front. The man had a hard demeanor and a mean ass face and was dressed in an all black hoodie, sweats, and Gucci slides. Yea definitely one of Jason's homies.
"Darrion." He said dismissively before gliding past me to the fridge grabbing a water.
I turned my lip up wanting to go off but my lips wouldn't let me. I was always thinking before I spoke and it honestly made me seem like a push over but I just hated confrontation and arguing. I turned around to head back upstairs to put on some leggings but was met with Jas' natural mug.
"Fuck is yo' pants? You down here in yo' panties while I got company?" He pressed with a glare and his thick eyebrows stitched.
"I didn't know anyone was here baby, I swear."
"Well fuck is you still standing here for, go upstairs." He said while walking past me to the fridge.
"Fuck you. You don't have to cuss at me to get yo' point across." I said swinging my slim figure around. I never talk back to Jas, so this slipping from my mouth was bewildering. I felt the heat radiating from his body as he suddenly stood in my face.
"Excuse me?" He said amusingly. He was talking loud enough for only me to hear but I'm sure his lil friend knew what was going on.
I stood there avoiding eye contact and decided I would escape this conversation by grabbing my muffin and proceeding up the marble stairs as quick as I can without slipping or busting my ass. But as soon as I stretched my right arm to grab the muffin, he abruptly stopped me and roughly grabbed my scrawny wrist.
"I'm speaking to you, so that means respond." He said eyeing me with his mouth partially open waiting on my reply.
"Nothing damn, you tripping forreal." I said lowly trying to deescalate the situation and not tryna argue in front of his homie.
