Habibet Albi (Incomplete)

Chapter 18: Cold Shoulder

    Phoenix stayed up all night listening to Lana Del Rey as she tossed and turned. She knew it was morning because the birds were chirping. Sunlight streamed through the slit in her black curtains. The last thing she wanted to do was get up from her bed. But she had too many responsibilities on a Sunday morning to do that.
     She groaned as she sat up, rubbing the boogers from her eyes. She stretched her arms out and groaned some more. Her phone vibrated catching her attention. She grabbed her phone to see messages flooding her screen. All of them were from Malik. Phoenix unlocked her phone and began to read them.
     - Don't be mad at me
    - Ur being dramatic what I said wasn't even that big of a deal. 4 someone who acts so tough ur sensitive. Ur tits looked amazing in that dress
   - Fuck why did I type that?
   - Ur probs asleep goodnight habibti
Phoenix rolled her eyes and put her phone back down. It was only six ten she had two and a half hours before Jonah would wake up, jump on her bed and ask her for chocolate milk and Cocoa Puffs. Laying back down, she closed her eyes and imagined being on the beach with a margarita in her hand, with the wind blowing through her curls. Exhaustion enveloped her and captured her consciousness.
"Phoenix! Phoenix!" Jonah shouted, jumping on the bed, before flinging himself onto his older sister.
"Ow! What the fu-!" She clamped her mouth shut, realizing a four year old was present.
"Gemme choco-milk." He struggled to pronounce.
"Jojo, what's the magic word?"
"Fuck." He answered.
Her mouth fell open in shock, "No Jojo, that's not a nice word. Don't say that again. The magic word is please."
Jonah began giggling and nodded, "Please gemme choco-milk."
"Okay, I will get your chocolate milk."
Phoenix tripped halfway down the stairs and caught herself on the wall. "Fucking A!" She yelled.
"That's not nice word!" Jonah yelled in front of her.
"I'm sorry."
The smell of blueberry pancakes pervaded her nose. Who was cooking? Since when did Hakeem cook? He was never up this early on a Sunday morning, there was no way in heaven or hell. Janeiry burned food and Carmela was at her best friend's house sleeping over.
She entered the kitchen to find Malik flipping pancakes.
"What are you doing here?" She demanded.
He turned around, biting his bottom lip to suppress a smile, "To make up for last night."
"You think making me breakfast is going to make me forgive you?" She scoffed, folding her arms over her chest.
His eyes immediately landed on her breasts spilling from her red tank-top with Betty Boop printed on it. "Yes."
She rolled her eyes, "I don't wanna see your stupid face."
    "My stupidly gorgeous face." Malik flashed a smile.
    "That smile might work most of the time. But not in this case." Phoenix said before pouring Jonah a bowl of Cocoa Puffs.
      "If you want me to leave, I will." Malik offered.
She placed the bowl in front of Jonah, "Leave." She ordered without looking up from the bowl of Cocoa Puffs.
She didn't look up until she heard the front door slam shut.
     The mail was untouched on the kitchen table. She began to sift through it as Jonah ate his cereal, singing to the theme song of Spongebob from the small flatscreen in the kitchen. Most of the mail came from store sales and colleges trying to convince him to consider them.                           
She began to wash the pan and the bowl of pancake mix in the sink. It was a Sunday, she had errands to do on her day off. She checked the fridge for any missing items, they needed more milk, orange juice, and some avocados and chicken breasts for tonight's quesadillas for dinner.
Once Phoenix finished the dishes, she went to the supermarket two blocks down.  No one went with her. Jonah wanted to stay home with Hakeem and watch him play Call of Duty Modern Warfare. Being by herself was a luxury she barely got. She took her time staring at shelves full of food dozing off into her own thoughts. She began to smile when she saw a brown, curly haired young man, it reminded her of Styles. A small part of her hoped he would turn around and it would be him. The man turned around and was much older than Styles. He had deep crinkles around his eyes and a goatee.                                   She bought the milk, orange juice, chicken breasts, and avocados through self-checkout. She hated waiting on line. It was easier to do it herself.