"So you finally decided to take me out?" Jayla said enthusiastically as she hopped into Boodah's car.
He promptly locked all the doors and looked her dead in her eyes.
"You taking that test today and ion wanna hear ya fuckin' mouth. After I take you home don't message me, don't call me, shit don't fuckin think of me. I'm so done with all ya bullshit, Jayla." He said calmly before pulling off.
She looked panicked. She didn't speak, she was barely breathing correctly.
An hour later all the tests were done. Boodah was told his results would be available within five days.
The the silence on the drive back was deafening. He darkly laughed at how he could her heartbeat.
"Get the fuck out." He said pulling up to her spot.
•••
When this shit end, man it's gon' get ugly
Real real ugly, your grandmama love me
And your mama love me, little sister hugs me
Even got a few homegirls that wanna fuck me, uh
Soon as this shit end, forget about it
You been stayin' in my crib, you gotta get up out it
'Cause if you layin' in my bed, let's admit about it
One time fuckin' and we no longer upset about it.
J. Cole blasted in Mari's ear as she bawled her eyes out into the pillow.
It had been a almost a month since she'd spoken to Boodah. These few weeks were more torture than the two months prior were.
She felt incredible guilt for telling Boodah she hated him, but she also couldn't let what he did slide. She wanted to badly to message him and apologize, however, her pride was in the way.
He's all that was on her mind. She was worried about him. If he could let himself get to such a low point without any hurtful words from her, imagine how he was coping with those three vile words.
"Fuck." She cussed herself.
•••
One Week Later
"Listen to me, and listen to me good, Jayla." Boodah started, with the envelope that would reveal whether he was the father of her child in hand. "You can tell me right now that it ain't mine, then we can do this the easy way."
She started to sweat bullets.
"But if you keep silent, I open this envelope, and I see in words that it ain't mine... yeen gonna like it. I ain't gon touch you, ain't gon send nobody after you or ya kid, but you gon' wish you fuckin' told me." He promised calmly.
"B-b..." she stuttered.
He scoffed. "B-b-better start talkin'."
"It's not yours." She said, barely above a whisper.
He inhaled deeply, "Say that shit again..."
"It's not-"
"SPEAK UP, JAYLA!" He snapped.
"IT'S NOT YOURS, JEROME. OKAY?" She said crying.
His blood started to boil. He had to fight the undying urge to punch her. He felt himself about to spaz out so he hopped out of his car and slammed his door. He took a 10 minute walk before going back.
"Why?" He asked, determined to hold all his emotion in.
"Cause..." she started, dramatically sniffling. "I still want you. And a baby was the only way to get you."
"You wasn't fuckin' gettin me." He interrupted.
"Boodah, I had to try."
"On god, stop fuckin callin' me that." He snapped through his teeth.
