THE VIGILANTE: THE SERIES[BOOK 2]

Ep.3 - Senior Year

"Don, chill bro! Chill!!" I was laughing so hard my ribs started cramping. I tried to hold it in, but Don just kept going on and on. I couldn't help but laugh. The pain grew excruciating.

"On muvas, I am not lying bro. Grandma Betsy was whooping that lil girl in the grocery store, slammed her all into the produce." Don was acting out every bit of this wild story. I tried to picture it: a 70-something year old woman beat up a 12-year old girl for being disrespectful and taking the last jar of pickles. I wish I could've been there to see it for myself.

"Little girl thought it was sweet. Then Betsy got up out of the scooter bruh-" Don said, slowing standing up like an old lady.

"Stop bruh, stop! I can't." Alex and I were on the floor crying from laughter. I tried to sit up but she pushed me over because she was still crying.

"Don you are stupid boy!" I was wiping the tears from my eyes, sitting up once again.

He sat down, finally finishing his crazy story. This was nice, getting a nice Saturday night to hang with my boys. We haven't really hung up lately, with Alex helping her mother out double time at the shop and my "overnight job", we've barely hung out this senior year.

"I'm glad we finally get to chill together, it seems like everything's been happening so fast lately." I said.

"Yeah shits been crazy lately." Alex said.

"Like that old lady?" Don said, under his breath.

"Stop!" Alex and I yelled simultaneously. We all laughed it off.

"No forreal, I like this. Just us hanging out, who knows what happens after graduation?" Alex said, sipping her orange soda.

" Yeah, I can't believe we made it to senior year." Don said.

"Nigga, I can't believe YOU made it to senior year." Alex started chuckling. "Don, you my boy but you lazy as hell bro."

"Bruh, I could care less about some dumb essay a teacher throws on my desk, she going to look like Betsy in a few years away." Don said, smirking. I drew my balled up paper towel at him. He threw it right back.

"Damn...feels like yesterday we were the Three Stooges walking into Mr. Hargrove's homeroom." Alex said.

"Girl you look like all three of them." Don whispered. Alex chucked her pizza crust right at his cup. They started fighting like usual.

"Alright alright y'all. Just one chill night, damn, why y'all be at each other's throats so much?" I said, trying to de-escalate this before Alex starts wylin out.

"Because he's a hater, he's always been a hater." Alex said, fixing her snapback.

"I don't hate on you Alex. What I do hate is that hat that's on you." Don said, grabbing at her cap. The bickering continues, and the night is only just getting started.

Smooth R&B music is playing throughout the house. Bridgette found an old CD player to listen to favorite songs by Jill Scott and Musiq Soulchild. She's dancing in the kitchen, without her partner, without her husband. She opens the fridge and pours the last of her Vodka into an empty water bottle. She takes a shot and starts twirling, dancing like no one's watching. DING-DONG! DING-DONG! She's lost in her own world, like Alice frolicking in Wonderland. DING-DONG! DING-DONG! The angelic tunes and symphony plays with heart strings. She keeps twirling and flailing her arms-KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK! She jumps. It takes her second, but she realizes someone's at the door. She quickly tosses the bottle in the trash. She scurries to dump out the ashtray, and blow out of her cigarette. She prays a load of Febreze in the air, almost makes her choke. She checks her breath, then opens the door.