•͟U͟N͟D͟E͟R͟S͟T͟A͟N͟D͟ ͟c͟a͟r͟t͟i͟u͟z͟i͟•͟

IV

"Pause it." I requested. Rakim did accordingly; I grabbed his phone, and zoomed into a small frame of the crowd, where my barely visible dreads could be seen, only because of the color. I pushed against the screen where I was located. "That's me," I shouted, "right fucking there, in the middle of all that damn action!"

Rakim frowned, "Nothing new," he informed, "fights are a norm here, you should know this, my child." I rolled my eyes. Of course I knew that fights were normal, but this was the first time I had seen one up close. I tried to avoid them frequently; that was one reason why I had been deathly afraid of the restrooms within the school since freshman year, among other reasons.

"You know that's not what I'm getting at," I told him, while knocking on his elbow, "I never see those in person, dude."

"Is that something you want to do now? Because if it is, believe me, I know plenty of people that could hook you up." Rakim suggested. I shook my head in rejection.

"I finna go home and crash," I informed him, while sliding into my driver's seat, "shit's been a long ass day, and I still have more shit to do at home."

"That's what yo ass gets for being smart." Rakim remarked, returning to his car's driver seat, respectfully. I returned the middle finger gesture he had given me earlier, as I started my car and drove off. I turned up the volume as high as it could go on my Legend's speakers just to keep me awake; I'm not kidding, it was really that exhausting.

After my drive home with loud Marilyn Manson songs being blasted out of the weak speakers, I nearly fell through the door after opening it. Momma wasn't supposed to be home from work until around 6:45, so I took the time to my advantage, and decided to take a nap.

I really thought the term "falling asleep as soon as you hit the pillow" was just an over exaggeration, but I swear to god, I followed that term as soon as I got home. I fell asleep with everything I wore to school on me still, except for my backpack and keys. I even left my goddamned Vans on as I slept.

While at first, nothing was really clear, as time went on, I began to have some fucked up dreams, nothing unusual for me. But these dreams were different than usual; these were really, tremendously fucked up dreams. At first, my dream started with me standing on the side of a highway, similar to the setting on Friday night. Except here, this freeway sat in the heart of downtown Atlanta, with even more cars and vehicles passing by.

The main difference wasn't difficult to notice; I jumped this time. In front of a MARTA bus. I splattered all across the windshield in a non-human format. The frame panned towards all those riding the bus, and the horrified looks they all gave. There were terrified elderly people, disgusted parents, who were trying to protect the eyes of their crying children. It was so bad, in fact, that the whole ass bus driver fucking fainted on the wheel, driving the bus into a pole.

I continued to watch as everything rewinded back to the time that I was standing on the side of the road. My live self watched as the bus flew past me, and instead, I jumped in front of the black coupé behind it. A Nissan. A Nissan being driven by Rakim, and escorting Amala. I once again, splattered across the hood and windows in a cartoonish manner, but the looks of my two friends destroyed me. Both Amala and Rakim shared the same terrified looks, and pulled the car over almost instantly, trying to salvage what little was left of me.

My subconscious seemingly had had enough of this disturbing dream, and began to fade from black; away from Amala and Rocky, the cars and freeway, and the bright skyscrapers the adorned the Atlanta skyline. Out of the black, Jordan emerged, talking in the cute voice he had been teasing me with earlier that afternoon. His eyes looked at me with a look of love and emotion that I loved. He put his hands on my face, and rested his chin on the top of my head.

I loved this. There was no other way to express it. Although I was just content with this for right now, other things began to happen. I'll try to keep it simple for right now, but in a long story made short, Jordan began to make comments about my height and my build. I thanked him, but then he literally ripped my shirt off, and began to kiss up and down my chest. It felt good, as strange as it sounded.

That was when I tackled him, pinning him down and giving him hickeys all over his neck and face. After awhile longer of this, more and more clothes began to be removed from the both of us, by one another, of course. Gradually, I began to advance towards Jordan's pants. I caressed his bare chest, to which he smiled and kissed me over and over.

Just before I was about to rip his boxers off his tight crotch, I was jolted awake. What awoke me, I have no idea, but I woke up panting, in a cold sweat, and with a huge ass erection. I wiped my forehead, and checked my boxers to notice that I was clean; I guess it technically wasn't a wet dream then, if I didn't bust, but whatever.

I sat on the side of my bed, and slipped my Vans off, feeling relaxed enough to the point where I wasn't continually stressed. I laid back onto my bed, with my arms behind my head, before getting the urge to go get food from the kitchen. Reluctantly, I stood up, and waddled to the kitchen to go obtain nutrients. I walked by my book bag that sat on the floor of my room, a stern reminder of the continued school work that would plague the rest of my evening.

I groaned thinking about it, continuing my journey to the kitchen, and grabbing an orange at my destination. I returned to my room, ready to pull out my Government textbook, preparing to answer the analysis questions I had been assigned. I threw the textbook onto my bed, where I sat next to it. Before opening it, I began to think once again. I was disgusted by my dreams, not because it wasn't hot as fuck, because believe me, I knew that it was. I was disgusted about how I thought that about someone I had only known for a day.

"I get it," I thought to myself, "he's cute, and there's nothing I can do to change that. If I desire to think that, I at least need to get closer to him. That wouldn't make me so guilt tripped after having uncontrollable thoughts."

It was decided, I needed to get closer to Jordan. But how? I picked up my phone to see if I could find information, but as soon as it turned on, my face lit up after I saw something.

NOTIFICTAION CENTER:
_______________________________
INSTAGRAM:
jordan carter (@sircartier) has requested to follow you (@symere.b.woods)
_______________________________

"Perfect," I thought to myself, "we're definitely going to be friends, both online and in real life."

I clicked the "accept request" button in a heartbeat, not regretting following him back either.