8: Panic Mode

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Jeremiah Mohammed

I stepped into the bakery by my house, which consisted of a pretty decent line compared to normal. After all, it was 6 AM and this was the only place in the area serving breakfast at this time. As much as it was the only place open, others couldn't compete because Kerri's had always and will always be the trademark of this town. They were going on twenty years and at this rate, I didn't think they'd ever be able to stop.

Turning down the music playing in my earbuds, I approached the cashier whose sour expression turned into a grin the moment she laid eyes on me. "Good morning Jeremiah." Her words curved around her fresh Jamaican accent as she greeted me with a shy little wave.

"Good morning, Mrs. P. How you doing today?"

"Better now that I'm seeing you." Mrs. P began punching my order without me saying a thing and I reached for my wallet at the same time. "You're going to school this early?"

"Yeah, I got basketball practice."

"I see. You sure this breakfast sandwich is going to be enough or should I throw in a second?"

"Now that you mention it." I smirk, "add in another."

"Not a pr-."

"Don't punch that one in." I looked up to see Tyson, the newest owner from the Kerri family and my father's childhood best friend, walk up behind her and void everything she had just punched in. "This one's on the house. Your usual, Jer?"

"Uh, yeah." My brows furrowed. "You know you don't have to do that... right?"

"Of course, I know that, I'm just feeling nice this morning."

"I wonder why." I looked at him with a lowered glaze and he immediately matched mine, causing us to both bust out in laughter. I stepped away from the counter, allowing the next person to order while I stood behind the glass, watching Tyson pull on a pair of fresh new gloves to make my sandwich. "She was that good, huh?"

"I mean, you're not getting one... you're getting two free, fully-loaded breakfast sandwiches. That alone should be your answer."

"You gotta tell me more."

"I'm grown," he scoffed. "I don't kiss and tell like you, youngins."

"Oh please, you already started."

Tyson shrugged, "what's there to really say... I've been seeing this girl for the last 6 months."

"The same girl?" my eyes widened.

"Same girl." He nodded and said, "it's weird for me too."

"Well, of course... you've been pimpin for as long as I can remember."

"Not pimpin, son. I've been exploring my options."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say."

"Anyways, the past six months have been nothing but magical, to the point where I'm even thinking about popping the question."

"Okay now." I held my hands up, "slow your roll. Those are fighting words."

"Boy." Tyson laughed, "those are coming of age words. You'll get there one day."

"God forbid." I said with a chuckle. "I'm good on this side."

"Remember, I was you once. Your father and I used to dip in and out of everything that walked. Now look at us, your pops met your mom, N-."

"And got a divorce a year ago."

"Doesn't matter, he still grew up and settled down."

"He made a huge mistake doing that."

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