"So ultimately I only want you all to work in groups of two if you must but you are more than welcome to work alone. This is an at-home project." The teacher stated for the 100th time it seemed like. Man oh man did the bitch love to talk.
You planned on working alone. The only person you ever worked was in another country as of right now.
Before beginning any work, you pulled out your phone and plugged your earbuds in as well. Music was the only way you could complete the assignment with no distractions.
As you were doing the rough draft, you sensed the aroma of weed and cologne near you but you ignored it. Oddly enough, you liked the smell. You didn't mind it being there at all.
"You working by yourself?" You heard a raspy voice say to you. Loud enough for you to hear over your earbuds but not loud enough for the people around you to hear.
"No, my partner is sitting right here," you responded sarcastically. You finally looked up to be met with the stale face of Stokeley. His 777 tattoo going down his cute nose looked freshly done.
"Imma work witchu," he declared.
And truthfully you didn't have a problem with that but...
"Are you gonna actually do the work?" Last you heard, he was failing the class.
"Guide me and I gotchu... I could be passing but I just have a short ass attention span."
"Shit I'm already knowing."
"You staying after school today for that art shit?" You two lived in the same neighborhood, just barely talked. Y'all fell in two completely different social groups.
"Nigga its Art Club. Address it correctly," you retaliated.
He chuckled, looking up at the clock on the wall. "That shit cute. Imma be at yo house by like 5 after school today," he said before the bell rung to go to the next class. He left with a quickness. Knowing him, he was going to skip his gym class.
~
"Y/n come downstairs! Stokeley here!" you heard your mom yell. It was 6 and he said 5 but you weren't busy anyways.
You didn't know why but you were a little nervous in your own house. Maybe because you found him attractive and you never really talked to his boys other than your gay best friend.
"Hey," you greeted him. He looked up from his phone and smirked before chuckling.
"Where you tryna work at?" He asked, getting straight to the point.
"I have a working area in my room..." You started, in more of a question-like tone.
He got up and followed you to your room, looking around the house as y'all made it up the stairs.
"I see you like pastel yellow?" Sitting down in the bed, he took a good guess because the theme of your room was that color.
"I mean my favorite right now is lavender but I renovated my room before I declared that my favo-"
"Hold on did you just say declared my nigga? We're talking about colors, y/n." He asked, twisting his face silently laughing at your choice of words.
"Did I?" You tended to talk a lot when nervous and it was a bad habit. You only realized it when someone mentioned something about it.
"If I'm not mistaken," Stokeley answered, smiling.
"Well why are we even talking about damn colors anyways? We got hella work to do."
"Let's put all that on pause real quick. You intrigue me so let's talk about some real shit," he said, getting comfortable on your bed.
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a/n there's gonna be a pt 2 guys no secks here in this chappy✌🏽✌🏽✌🏽✌🏽✌🏽
