girls need love | sharife cooper

01

Chyna

It has been 1 year or so since Corey and I broke up. They say the pain dulls with time but I don't understand how things can get better when he consumes me.

He's off with his girlfriend living like I never existed, like we were never in love. I scoffed at the thought, wiping a few tears that slipped.

I should be living and having fun, exploring these country ass, fine ass Georgia niggas but I can't even make it out my dorm if it isn't for class. I sighed in frustration.

I looked over at our picture on my dresser, my only happy memory I could seem to think of. He's nothing but a silhouette that walked from that photograph, and left behind darkness. Always leaving me with an ache that comes and goes, but only returning in the quiet moments.

I mean I fell for this boy like a slip on black ice, and only now am I feeling the pain of it. With this pain, the sun hasn't shone since 30 minutes before I caught him with that sleazy bitch at our graduation celebration.

My man, fucking my step-sister, in my bed while I waited for him to return to me downstairs. Nigga shitted on me like I was nothing. Like she could have at least fucked him in her room, but maybe she wanted me to catch them. Didn't she?

knock knock knock

I groaned throwing the cover over my head hoping for whoever to get from the fuck in front of my door.

knock knock knock

A low growl escaped my lips as I hopped out the bed and trudged to the door. I opened the door to come face to face with a chest. I trailed my eyes up to see Sharife fucking Cooper standing at my door. This boy was fine as hell, but I still wanted him the hell out my face.

"What?" I answered annoyed.

He stared down at me, a slight smirk pulling at his lips. He was looking at me but not at me. I followed his eyes to find that I was in nothing but a tank top and panties.

Embarrassed I slammed the door shut, sliding down against it. I covered my face mentally jumping off a 100 story building.

knock knock knock

What the fuck does this boy what?

I threw on some sweats before opening the door and meeting his eyes, "what?" I shot at him.

He licked his lips letting out a small laugh. "I guess you seem to have forgot?" He held up some textbook and his laptop.

I stared at him blankly without the slightest clue of what the fuck he was talking about.

Catching on, he continued, "We have a project for Kades class...about Georgia's youth?"

I thought for a moment before physically face palming myself.

Shit. I forgot.

I bit the inside of my lip before moving to the side to let him in.

He walked in.

"Nice room," he smiled before sitting at my desk.

"Thanks," I mumbled while finger combing my hair.

"I was thinking," he said while opening his laptop, "lets write about the Fentanyl addiction. Alabama surprisingly has a high rate for young adults around our age," he finished while typing on his laptop.

I couldn't help but stare at him. He did something to my ovaries. The way his shirt hugged his body outlining his muscles. His big lips, brown skin, but oh God no, not the broccoli hair. I hated his hair, but fuck that shit, he was fine.

"Chyna?" he snapped in my face.

I looked down, embarrassed.

This was going to be a long night.

<>
After three hours of research and gathering our notes we decided to finally take a breath.

Sharife started to walk around my room, poking his nose in anything he could.

I caught a glimpse of myself and felt disgusted. I looked like I never got a piece of sleep a day in my life. I finger combed my hair a little bit more, hoping to make myself somewhat presentable.

"How come I never see you?" he asked sitting beside me on the bed.

His knee brushed against my leg before it rested next to mine. It sent a tingling sensation that sparked throughout my body making my clitoris do backflips.

I leaned back, "What do you mean? This is a big campus, I never see you either."

He laughed, "Touché, but like we live in the same building. I'm sure I would've seen you at least once in the last 4 months outside of class."

I shrugged.

"You don't talk much, do you?" he raised a brow.

Again, I shrugged.

"Well," he stood up stretching his arms out, "I'm going to get food, you're welcome to join if you would like." He started gathering his things.

"No thanks," I said flatly. I wasn't interested in going out, or stomaching a meal, or holding a conversation with someone I barely knew. I liked being alone, I liked eating chips, and listening to Corey and I's old playlist while crying myself to sleep. Unless Chris Brown showed up at my door asking me on a date, I wasn't leaving for anyone.

<>
Sharife

15 minutes later, I was sitting in a booth across from Chyna. We decided to eat at this pizzeria everyone has been talking about.

We had just ordered a large pizza and some wings, now just basking in an awkward silence as we waited for our food.

I studied Chyna. She was a beautiful girl no doubt, but the sadness spoke louder than any of her qualities. Her pain was evident in the crease of her brow and the permanent frown she wore. But still, she stood out in any room. Her inner beauty still managed to light her eyes and soften her features but it's almost as if she doesn't know how beautiful she is. There was a shyness to her, hesitation in her body movements and what she said, but still softness in her voice. Her skin was like silk over glass and she radiated an intelligent beauty.

Something in me wanted to help her, heal her, be a friend. Something in me wanted to see her happy, to see her comfortable in her skin and confident in who she was.

"Do people tell you your hair looks like broccoli?" "You're beautiful" We said at the same time.

We shared a look before bursting into laughter. She was so beautiful when she laughed.

"I have never heard that Chy, but it's an honor to be viewed as such," I laughed.

Anything to see her smile.

"You're beautiful Chy," I licked my lips looking down at her.

She simply looked down and blushed.

I was slowly chipping away whatever wall she built up.