Trying To Maintain

S E V E N

Boot

"You and your cellie beefing or something?" Yutt asks as he sits down next to me.

"Naw, why you asked that?" I'm upset with Drill, but we're definitely not beefing or anything.

Well I was upset. Now I'm just being prideful. It's been a few weeks, and I'm over that situation. It was never really that serious anyway. A nigga was just mad. I lost someone close to me and felt punished due to being on lockdown because of Leek's death.

"Because, y'all nigga's ain't sat together in I don't know how long. Usually y'all around this bitch like y'all grew up together."

"Everything good, bruh." I keep it short. I don't want anyone in my personal business. If I use too many words the nigga will be able to spin it any way that he wants to.

"That's my fault then, folks. I was looking too much into shit."

"You straight." I slightly lie. "At least you asked me before you put word out." I laugh it off. Nigga's problems comes from them not minding their own fucking business.

I half-ass listen to Yutt continue to run his mouth. I hear him talking, but I'm not really focused on what he's saying. It ain't shit important to me anyway. Yutt being Yutt; just running his mouth. I throw a few "damn" and "that's crazy" responses in there so he doesn't feel slighted.

The guards call for the end of supper, effectively cutting Yutt's almost one-sided conversation short. "A nigga can't ever finish his damn food in peace man."

I laugh before responding, "that's because yo' ass stay running off at the mouth."

"Fuck you, nigga." He laughs as he stands up with me to throw our trays out. "I'll get with you later though bro." We clap up and walk in different directions. I head to my cell because I really don't feel like being bothered.

Drill is already in here when I walk back into our shared cell. He looks up at me from his bunk. I look away and go over to my personals to find a snack.

"I need something new to read, Boot." I hear his bed groan, signaling his movement on his bunk.

"You know where they're at," I tell him without looking to him. "Go ahead and grab one." I finally stand up-right to face him. It's disrespectful not to look a man in the eye while talking to him. I'm no longer mad at him so I have no reason to disrespect him.

"Naw man. I'm trying to break up this lil weird ass vibe your stubborn ass trying to keep going. In the almost seven months I've been here, you ain't ever seen me dig in your shit, and I'm not finna start now." He tells me.

I smirk before responding, "you have. Remember when you got your phone out my cubby a few weeks ago?" I raise a brow at him.

He laughs a little, "that ain't the same. I was grabbing my shit out of your bin." This nigga dimples is something else. You can see them whenever he talks, but when he smiles it's hard to be mad; and if you do get mad you can't stay that way for long.

"Whatever, dick." I go over to my other bin to grab a story for him to read. "I shouldn't give you shit 'cause you ain't ask nicely." I talk some shit.

"I bet you going to give me one anyway though." Even though my back is to him, I can tell he is smirking.

"Shut the fuck up," I tell him with a smile. I give him one titled Dope.

He stands up off of his bunk to grab the notebook from me. "Thank you." He grabs it and sits back in his bunk.

I decide to do some writing. I still haven't decided whether or not I'm going to write a straight-laced dude or a hood dude for this one. Or one like Dre, not really in the streets but accustomed to the street life.