•͟U͟N͟D͟E͟R͟S͟T͟A͟N͟D͟ ͟c͟a͟r͟t͟i͟u͟z͟i͟•͟

II

I Get Around -Tupac Shakur/Digital Underground

SYMERE:

Lithia Springs High School: Mableton, Georgia

I pulled my Acura into the parking lot Monday morning, still remembering my actions on Friday night, and still remorseful over the guilt I felt. I stared at my steering wheel, disappointed with myself. I was snapped out of it when Rakim pulled up in his modified Nissan.

Rakim has always had this strange obsession with anime centered around street racing and drifting. Don't ask me why anime like that exists, or why the Japanese manage to be obsessed with cars in every single form of media, but ever since he bought that Nissan coupé when he was 16, he was determined to make it like the cars shown in Initial D.

"Wassup youth?" he practically shouted. I rolled my eyes as he said this, and stepped out of my car. He noticed this, and started to smile, revving his engine. I did a 180 turn, to not only give him attention, but bring attention to the purple coloring I put in my dreads; he didn't seem to notice on the side of the interstate a few nights prior.

My ruse worked, as he laughed, turned off his car, and stepped out.

"Purple dreads, eh?" he asked.

"You seemed to have missed them Friday night." I responded.

Rakim nodded his head while exhaling loudly, "What were you even doing on the side of the highway?" he inquired.

"I told you G, I was bored." I replied, annoyed at how we had already discussed this.

"Yeah, sure." he said, as I rolled my eyes.

We approached the front of the school, which also doubled as a courtyard to see our friend group: Sheyaa, Miles, and Amala. Sheyaa sat on the bench, deeply rooted to whatever was upon the screen of his phone, Miles was having a conversation with Amala, who was waving to the both of us.

Rakim ran up to Amala to give her the same hug and kiss on the neck she received every morning from him. Even for someone who was gay, albeit closeted, it still managed to make me blush each time I saw it. It collectively gained eyerolls from both Miles and Sheyaa.

While both Amala and Rakim started to get mushy and begin flirting as they did ever so often, the rest of us began to walk into the school.

"I need a bad bitch, y'all feel me?" Sheyaa announced, finally looking up from his phone.

It wasn't difficult to see what he was referring to; in every corner possible, someone was pinned against the wall by another person's lips. I felt the struggle, but in a different way.

"No dudes. No dudes anywhere." I thought to myself.

"We all do, dawg." Miles replied, seemingly upset too.

"Like, for real. Damn, what the hell else am I supposed to do," Sheyaa ranted, "I got face tats at seven fucking teen. Shouldn't that be attractive to biddies?"

"Man, when the hell you think it's gonna be a good idea to ask me for fuckin' advice?" Miles exploited, "End of the world might as well be approachin' if you are tryna ask me for advice, 'specially on relationships."