𝙶𝙴𝙽𝚄𝙸𝙽𝙴

³²

CAMILLE J.

"No, I hadn't made any plans to talk to him yet", I groaned, listening to my aunt talk about how me and Tremaine needed to make things up.

"Look, I ain't gon' tell ya how to live your life. However, you both wrong and y'all both need to stop being stubborn assholes and make things right", she advised, and I sighed as I ate a piece of kiwi.

"He don't want to talk to me, aunty. But, I'll see if I can talk to him", I said, slightly lying.

That nigga won't make an effort, neither will I, the fuck.

"I know your stubborn ass ain't gon' do that, but alright. I'll call you next week to talk about Thanksgiving", she said, then she hung up.

I put my phone on the charger and left it on the floor. I stood up and rubbed my stomach, smiling happily. I guess having kids won't be so bad. But I don't think I'm prepared mentally. But, they here now and I gotta prepare myself. And that's that.

I heard my phone ringing, and I answer it without looking.

"Who this?", I ask, putting it on speaker and turning on Hell's Kitchen.

"It's Tremaine", he said, and I pause the TV quick as hell.

"I thought I blocked yo- Oh, new number", I mumble, and I hear him suck his teeth.

"Not even. Using someone else's phone. Come unlock yo' door", was all he said, then he hung up.

Why everybody hanging up on me today? Damn, it's neglect Camille day.

I get up and slip on some shorts and a tank top. I put my Nike slides on and go downstairs, Oreo following right behind me since he didn't want to go outside with his brother and sisters.

I open my front door, and he's standing right there. We simply stared at each other, then he nodded towards my couch.

"You gonna let a nigga in or not?", he asks, and I caught an attitude.

"You gonna apologize to a bitch or not?", I mock, rolling my eyes.

"Woah, hold the fuck up. Don't act like I'm the only one who has to apologize for some shit", he said, and I step aside so we don't argue in front of these nosy ass white people.

"You didn't even give me a chance to fuckin' explain! You kept interrupting me while I was trying to apologize, so I am not apologising first", I argue, and he groans.

"The hell was I supposed to think? My girl vanishes off the face of the planet and you expect me to remain calm? Fuck that noise, kill that shit right there", he replies, and I throw my hands up in frustration.

"I expect you to trust me! If I was in danger, you know there would've been something wrong. For crying out loud, I wouldn't have told Nisha to keep it a secret if I was in some type of trouble!", I yell, and he looks at me in surprise.

"So is keeping shit from me a one time thing or are you planning on turning it into a habit?", he asks, leaning against a wall.

"Is jumping to conclusions and telling me I'm like other hoes gonna become a habit of yours?", I ask back, going to sit on the couch.

"Okay, that was wrong of me", he admits, and I roll my eyes.

"Yeah, no shit, Sherlock", I mumble, and he glares at me.

"If you wasn't my girl and my baby moms, I woulda rocked your shit right about now", he says, and I stand up.

"So rock it, the fuck! Don't let a few words getcho' ass beat, nigga", I say, and he shrugs.

"I'm playing, calm down. I don't hit girls no more", he smiles, and that shit caught me off guard.

"Fuck you mean, 'No more'? You used to fight females?", I ask, and he laughs.

"I wouldn't call it fighting. They hit me, I knock 'em out. I ain't hit no white bitch or no boujee bitch, either. I wasn't going to jail", he says, and I laugh.

"You goin' to hell", I say, and then I sigh.

"I don't like us fighting. I really don't. I know I'm more wrong than you, but you said some hurtful shit when I was already feeling like shit", I say, and he smiles.

He walks over and hugs me, kissing me on top of my head.

"I'm sorry for lying, saying that you like the rest and all that other fuck shit. I just wanted you to realize that keeping shit from me ain't cool, mamas. You gotta learn how to open up to me. Forgive me?", he said, puckering his lips.

"Mutual forgiveness?", I raise a brow, and he nods, pecking me on my lips.

"Damn, I missed this couch!", he cheered, jumping on the couch and hugging a pillow.

"Wow, so you didn't miss me, ugly?", I laugh, and he throws a pillow at me hard as fuck.

"Nope. I shol' didn't", he said, doing a country accent.

We sat on opposite ends of the couch for all of two minutes before he yanked me to sit in his lap. I had to put him on to Fairy Tail, and we ended up watching every single episode, both on Netflix and YouTube. It was a nice feeling, being in the arms of the person you love.