I walked Erika out to the student parking lot and we leaned on her car and talked for a little while. It was the end of the day and by now our highs had worn off completely.
We was leaning against her car talking bout the weird shit going down between her and Mariah.
"I swear to God bruh you all in ha ass bruh like do shit tas dat goo!" I shout at her, getting frustrated.
"Ion een unastan why yo ass so damn mad bruh, Its not like Im fucking you!" She says as she shoves a finger into my chest. I feel my anger bubbling up in my chest and I clench and unclench my fist as I watch Erika lean back against her car and text Mariah.
I don't read the texts because I already know what they say.
Erika looks up at me, her Hazel-brown eyes full of irritation. "Boo" She says as he eyes soften upon seeing me. My body is shaking with how frustrated I am. She takes a step toward me and I Take A Step Back. I put my hands up infront of her.
"Nah mane you scraight" I say. She smacks her teeth, everytime I say the word scraight she knows something is up. "Mo, babe I aint mean it like that" She says as she takes another step toward me. I shake my head, trynna keep my cool.
"Nah mane you was right. You aint fuckin' me" I say as my eyes meet hers. "And you won't be fucking me either" I say as I grab my bag off the ground and sling it on my shoulder. I spin on my heel to walk away from her, brushing past Mariah ho ass as I go.
"MAN THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN?!" Erika shouts as I walk away. I take out my phone because I don't even feel like talking anymore.
You - "It means wtf I said. You ain fukkin me. You fukkin her. And you can keep fukkin her. Even after she fuk up yo heart bruh. I'm done bein yo rebound"
I send her the message. I know I'm gonna regret it because she's the only person that I keep close to me but I don't feel like handling her shit no more. 8 years and it never stops.
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I sit on the stairs of my moms house and look at my picture before putting it on snapchat.
They smile in your face but treat you like a disgrace
The thought popped in my head and I put it in the notes app on my phone before standing up and walking toward the black door with its slightly cracked up paint .
I knocked three times, making sure not to hit too hard. The door swung open in mere seconds and I was met with the smell of liquor.
"Girl where the hell you been at!" My mom shouted as she pulled me in the house. She reeked of Pina Colada and cigarettes. I heard the door slam as footsteps followed me into the kitchen where ash trays, empty liquor bottles, rolling paper, and cigarettes lay. I grabbed a half folded piece of paper off the counter and handed it to her.
