BLACKBiiRDS

2 | J E T T

M A R C H  2 1 | T H U R S D A Y

Jett hadn't recuperated from the attack of the school counselor.

Emotionally.

Physically she'd made some tangible progress that Ms. Davis had already complimented her on. After going to each of her academic classes and working out a schedule to get caught up, Jett expected at least the grades in two of those classes to be raised before the end of the last marking period.

Emotionally, Jett was suffering. Alone. Her family was all too busy fending for themselves, they had no time to pay her solitude screams the slightest bit of attention.

It was a bleak Thursday morning, grey overcast with thick, ominous clouds rolling across the sky. Jett considered this as she dressed for school, choosing her sister's Tommy Hilfiger riding boots to pair with her leggings and her favorite Nike pullover hoodie. To avoid her thick mane of curls from being frizzy all day in case it rained on the way to school, Jett decided on two cornrows for the day.

In the middle of parting her hair, she realized her gel was missing and knew who the culprit was without thinking on it. Whenever Taj did decide to be apart of the family and come home, he never failed to swipe some of her hair products. From gels, curl cremes, her hair ties, and even her favorite paddle brush one time.

She kneeled up from the floor where she usually sat to do her hair and makeup, ripped open her bedroom door, and stomped to the bathroom to pound on the door with her free hand, the other still clutching a handful of curls.

"Taj! Give me back my Eco styler!"

The faucet squeaked under the sound of his music playing from his speaker. Jett opened the door and was met with her twin's tattooed hazelnut body wrapped in her yellow bath towel. His sparkling dark brown eyes, which all three kids inherited from their mother, were stretched wide. So wide, because he knew he'd been caught red-handed once again. With a toothbrush in his mouth and his lips foamed with white suds, he had the shea butter infused gel already extended out in anticipation of his sister opening the door.

The sight of this idiot almost forced Jett into giggles, but she was too annoyed to give him the satisfaction.

"Who the hell told you to go in my room, scrub?" she chided. "And now you're using my towel? Are you gonna use my freaking toothbrush next?"

Taj spit out the soapy toothpaste and stood up straight. "Shh, watch your mouth. Ma's up."

"No, she isn't."

"She is. I heard her moving around in her room before I got in the shower."

Jett sucked her teeth and stepped further into the bathroom to close the door. Taj scooted over to make room for her, though there wasn't much to be made in the box of a bathroom. Despite Jett keeping the space moderately clean throughout the week, whenever either of her siblings stayed over, she'd always have to come in and pick up the clothing or towels left behind.

"My bad about the towel, I couldn't find any clean ones," Taj said.

"That's because I haven't washed them yet."

"Look at this, man. Why'd you hit me so hard?" Taj groaned, poking at the reddish bruise on the side of his torso. "This jawn is still healing, you could've been a bit more considerate, I'm already sore over here," he referenced the permanent image of an eagle's wing inked across his ribs.

"Oh toughen up. You willingly let someone stab ink into your body for hours, and you wanna complain about a little punch?" she continued styling where she left off, finishing her parting and was now unscrewing the lid to the gel. "Stop getting so many freaking tattoos then. And how do you think I felt hearing from that nosy counselor that my own brother is moving to Atlanta?"