Qadira and her friends go on a trip to Miami to celebrate their graduation. Little did she know that the trip would be a lot more than just fun with the girls.
So the girls are at Millennium for dance rehearsals, and all I have to do for the rest of the day is to look through my script and familiarize myself with it before practice tomorrow. Basically, I had the day off.
It was a beautiful ---- albeit HUMID ---- day in Miami. I decided to take a stroll and explore the area by myself. I put on a white crop top and a matching skirt that hugged my hips and straightened my hair; I was not about to look like a crusty mess in public, not in a city where every girl looked put together 24/7.
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One last touch of lipgloss and highlighter, and I head out. The city was beautiful; a vibrant mix of different cultures and colors coming together to create a glorious amalgamation. As I was walking down the streets of Little Havana, I saw an ice cream shop with the most extra sign. I ate healthy in LA, I deserve a little treat, I told myself as I made my way into the sugary heaven (which was also ironically named Azucar Ice Cream Company).
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I bought myself a double scoop of mint chocolate chip and coconut, I then went out and continued my journey. I stopped every now and then to admire the scenery, and to make sure I kept a memory of everything in my mind. You don't get to see all this back in Michigan. As I turned around, I bumped into a man that was standing right behind me and dirtied his shirt with some of my ice-cream.
"Oh god I am so so sorry," I said as I took out a tissue to help clean the stranger's shirt. "I'm so clumsy," Dear Lord Jesus, you can open up this pavement and swallow me now.
"Nah shawty it's on me, I should've been looking at the road, not my phone," he laughed. Wait, is he- I looked up, and sure enough, with his flamin' hot Cheeto hair, dozens of tattoos, and intense stare, it was Richard Camacho, standing right there, with a stain on his shirt from my ice cream. I NEVER ASK TO SUFFER BUT I STILL DO.
"I-, I'm so sorry, Ima just clean it up for you," I said as he grabbed me by the hand and said, "Hey, it's all good, it's washable," he assured with a wink. I looked down on the ground and saw a scoop of my ice cream fell onto the ground.
"Hey, um, could you hold this for me for a sec?" I asked as I gave him my ice cream cone, and fished out another tissue to clean up the ice cream on the ground and jog to the nearest trashcan.
