Thursday, June 10th
Paris POV
6:30 PM
"Don't act like you mad at me Bubbaaa" Jamar said to me as he drove us to the party.
"Why you let yo mom talk to me like that? You just stood there and let her." I said with my arms folded, not looking at him.
He looked at me and then back at the road.
"Bae. I'm sorry. I ain't know what to do. She caught me off guard too. But I did say something to her when you left.."
"Ohh so you let me walk away, after I was already looking hella stupid, and then you chose to say something? Idiot." I said still with my arms folded.
"I'm sorryyyy baeeeee! Ima get her to apologize, that's better?"
I looked at him and smiled. "Stop tryna be cute nigga."
"Girl you know I'm sexy as hell."
"Hellaaa bae" I joked.
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
7:01 PM
We pulled up to this big ass house in Beverly Hills and got out the car.
Boy I was not used to this shit at all...I ain't like it either..
It was hella cars outside and people outside smoking, drinking, and eating. It was niggas cooking on the grill in the garage, they had loud ass music playing—these mfs was lit.
"What up my nigga!" A junior, Tae, said to Jamar.
"What's goin on witcha boy?" He said as he dapped him up.
"What's up Paris" He held his hand out for me to dap up, which I did.
When we got in the house, we seen hella people, said hella heys and wassups, and took our asses to the kitchen.
"All these fuckin people." I said leaning against the counter in the kitchen.
"Hella. I ain't expect it to be this crowded. But I think it's people from L.A. High here too. Some of these white kids ain't go to no Crenshaw." We laughed.
"You wanna drink?" He said as he got a red plastic cup, some orange juice, and some henny from the counter.
I've drank before, but not a lot. He has too, more than me, but not often. But, since it was a party, and a graduation party at that, I just said fuck it.
"I'll try." I laughed. "You got a blunt on you?"
"I gotta roll this muhfucka up. I got the weed and the rello." He tossed them to me and I hit him.
"Nigga don't be throwing shit at me."
Since I tried it for the first time, I hadn't smoked no more, but like I said before, EVERYBODY in my family smoked so for some weird reason I knew how to roll up a lil bit.
YOU ARE READING
To Live and Die In L.A. (FINISHED) Pt. 1
Teen FictionSeventeen year old Paris Brooks, born and raised in South Central L.A., is struggling to get over the murder of her mom which she witnessed when she was only six years old. She's not happy like she used to be and goes through many obstacles because...
