"Wentworth? W-What about him?"
Pushing through the front door to his apartment, he kicked off his shoes near the door as he tossed down his keys.
"I mean, he failed three classes and still isn't here. I've been here for an hour, he can't play on Friday."
Masterson sighed walking towards the kitchen, "Little... fucker." He mumbled as he rummaged through his cabinets.
"You're gonna have to rip him a new one-"
"Woah woah woah- why me?" He interrupted placing a hand on his chest.
"I've given him the talk, the warnings, the calls home, Steph, you're his coach I think he listens better to you." Rodriguez's voice spoke through the phone.
"He's gonna get it then- we... ugh... we can't afford for shit like this to happen!" He yelled as he grew more irritated.
"Talk to him. Make him understand that what he's doing is un-fucking-acceptable."
Masterson nodded slamming a cabinet shut, "Okay, I will, I'll talk to him."
"Good, what are you up to tonight."
Masterson paused, contemplating his thoughts, "Just.. hanging out with a friend. Why what are you up to."
"Shit, Masterson, you get more kitty than I do." Rodriguez chuckled through the phone.
Rolling his eyes, Masterson scoffed, "No it's not like that- but I do get more bitches than you."
"You fucking wish- I gotta go the hot front desk lady is in the teachers lounge."
"Ohh got it, just remember I have more hoes than you do." He chuckled, Rodriguez scoffed.
And with that, Masterson hung up still rummaging through his kitchen for something to eat, finally deciding on a Gatorade in back of the fridge.
Pulling out his phone again, Masterson found himself wandering back to Jada's page, his eyes moving across the screen, scanning every photo.
He flinched as a notification dinged at the top of the screen:
[Instagram]: You still down to hang or have you gotten sick of me yet.
Masterson let out a laugh as he typed back a response, quickly sending it.
Who is this by the way?
Don't act like you don't know who I am, old man
Ohhhh, it's Jada. Whenever, what time is good for you?
Shut up, I get home around 7, how about then?
Sounds perfect, might have to steal one of them cars while I'm over.
You wish you old man, these cars are allllll mine.
Fine! Jesus I'm not that old, I still know how to work this phone, barely. I'll see you at 7.
Okayyyy
Tossing his phone onto the counter next to him, Masterson groaned as his head ached and his feet throbbed, glancing towards the clock above the stove.
4:57
Two hours, should be enough time for a rest. He needed it, he thought to himself as he made his way to his room.
