(a/n: this chapters long)
Yaya
"You're not telling Joey."
"Wow, you even talk different." - Gio
"You're not telling him."
"Oh, I'm telling him. Please believe that." He says placing down the spoon.
"You're not saying anything to him and I'm not telling my dad about you. If I tell him where you're from, you're done."
"Is that a threat?"
"Call it what you want. I gotta tell him in my own way."
"I knew it. Because Joey was telling me how "Yaya is this" and "Yaya's so real. "
"I am real."
"You ain't shit."
"Excuse you?"
"How did you even find The Rink? Did you go buy yourself a 99-cent ghetto handbook to show you how to keep it real?"
I squinted my eyes at him and started putting the spoon, knife and fork on the napkin.
"The salad fork goes on the other side." - Gio
I dropped the rest of the utensils on the table
"I'm from the Track."
"You from the Track? That's funny."
"Well, my dad is."
"I never read that."
"He never talks about it."
"I don't blame him."
"Are you serious? He's a sellout."
"You really wanna be ghetto. Believe me, you can have the piss in the hallway. I'll take the Picasso."
"You got a Picasso in your house!" He yells
"You need to lower your voice and Shut up." i whispered
"I bet when you go to Brinton, you won't be all up in there doing all that Yaya stuff.
"I'm not going to Brinton. I'm going to Spelman."
"Oh, you going to Spelman. Well, your daddy seems a little confused."
+ Kash
"Yo, what happened?"
"She took care of me in the parking lot."
"Nahh" one of my friends said surprised
"Yeah, that right."
"Here come your boy."
"Hey, yo, Kash."
"What up, big time?" I said
