Excuse any mistakes !
| AMINA BROWN |
"Don't you think you should get a lawyer or something?" Niya asked me, as I laid my head on Keon's shoulder.
"I don't even know if Amir is serious or not, I don't want to waste my money." I replied.
"I'm sorry but, he doesn't even look mental." Amour added, staring at Keon.
"You want me to show you mental?" He sat up and she shrieked.
"Down dog!" Niya pointed at him.
I rolled my eyes at them, "Relax, Keon."
He stared at me for a moment before leaning back.
"As I was saying, maybe you should have a lawyer on speed dial or something...?" Niya suggested and I shook my head.
"I'll worry about it when the time comes."
"Okay."
"Where's Jaydin?" Amour asked, and I pointed to upstairs.
"Bitches get nigga's and all of a sudden can't speak." She mugged me, before getting up and going upstairs to bother Jaydin.
Niya and Keon laughed and I sat there with a straight face.
"Ima go bother Jaydin too." Niya said before her and Amour disappeared upstairs.
I turned to look at Keon who was already staring at me.
"What are you looking at?" I smiled.
"You know you mines right?" He replied, with a slight smirk on his face.
"So niggas don't ask females to be their girlfriends anymore?"
He sucked his teeth, "Want me to get on my knees? I'd prefer if you did that though."
"You're nasty." I mushed his head and he laughed.
"Aye, I got a question though."
"What?"
"How do Jaydin be knowing the difference between you and Amour?" He questioned, running his hand through my weave.
"I don't know, she just...knows." I shrugged my shoulders.
We didn't have work today, it was Sunday so everyone was at my house chilling.
"I don't like my new therapist." He looked at me. I sighed.
"I'm sorry for quitting on you, but psychology was never something I wanted to do. I only did it because my mom died before she got her degree, I just needed a reason to quit and Amir gave me that."
"Amir gave you that? If I don't recall it was me making you feel better through this shit."
"That's not how I meant—"
He shook his head standing up.
"Where are you going?" I croaked, feeling my throat burn up. He was leaving me.
