Shootout

(08) You Like Me Or Something?

1 month later...

This past month, Bryson has taught me everything I needed to know about dealing. He went with me to get my license to carry a gun legally and I've made some good money doing all these dealings.

So far so good.

Bryson and I became real close, but only and strictly as friends. I never would've thought that me and Bryson would actually become friends because of how weird we met eachother.

He introduced me to his grandmother yesterday, she's a nice lady and we already get along so well. He's lived with his grandmother his whole life because of his absent parents, she was the one who raised him since he was five. Now that he's all grown up, he has his own crib but still goes over his grandmas house often to help her out and take care of her because she has gotten really sick.

"You tryna go with me to the trap today?" Bryson asked as he's in the passengers seat of my car as I'm driving.

I shrugged my shoulders. "I have nothing better to do. So yeah."

I've never been there before, but it's the weekend and I wanna spend some more time with Bryson before I go back to the basic school routine and won't have time to hang out with him all week because of the loads of homework and studying I will have to do.

After he gives me the directions, I pull up to a house and I open the car door and we walk inside together. As I walk in, there were about three dudes inside. Bryson dapped them up and then introduced me to them. After saying hello to them, he leads me upstairs into a bedroom.

"Who's room is this?" I asked as I take a seat on the bed.

He shrugged his shoulders and sat beside me.

I hate how nonchalant he gets sometimes. I never can fully understand what's going on in his head, he sucks at showing emotions.

As he sits beside me, I place my head on his shoulder as I be nosey and watch what he's doing on his phone as he scrolls through Instagram. He doesn't even double tap or comment on anybody on his timeline photos, he just scrolls. But for some reason he always double taps or comments on mine every time I post.

"Whatchu tryna do?" He asked, closing his phone and placing his hand on my thigh.

"I don't know. What do you usually do when you come here?" I asked, removing my head from his shoulder and looking at him so we can talk.

"Smoke with my niggas." He shrugged.

"Then let's do that."

"Nah. I don't want you 'round them?"

"Why not?"

"They be talkin' crazy sometimes. I 'ont want them to say some disrespectful shit to you 'cus ion feel like beatin' a nigga ass right now."

"Awww you're willing to fight for me." I poked my lip out.

He sucked his teeth. "Don't make me seem like no simp ass nigga."

I laughed. "Well... you got some liquor?" I asked.

"Yeah. But you don't need to be drinkin'"

"Boy I'm grown as hell. If I wanna drink I can drink."

"It's Sunday shorty. You got school tomorrow."

"And?" I asked smartly.

"You wan' be hungover during class?" He asked sarcastically. "Oh ight. That's what I thought." He said smartly before I could even answer.