A Player Remade (Sequel to A Player in the Remaking)

Chapter Fifty One

"Ooh girl get you some 22, 24, and 26 inch Malaysian curly hair."

"What the fuck? I don't talk tracks boo explain!"

She laughed. "We'll go track shopping when we you come next week."

"Do you think I should get tracks, for real?" I asked, showing her my hair.

"I mean, you have your dads kind of hair texture. Really fine but thick. You should try tracks though but you might get tired of them after a while since you're use to your natural texture."

"How do you do this, Darshay?"

"Girl ain't nobody got time to deal with natural hair I am pregnant and I have no patience you better get a needle and some string and sew this mess up." She said,
patting her weave.

"See I can't be doing the whole patting thing. How do you still have brain cells?"

She eyed me. "I got more brain cells then yo' slow ass."

"You probably do, shit. Go natural with me and November."

"November got patience and stuff. I ain't about to be straightening or twisting my hair every night no ma'am, ham, turkey, or yams. See, with this Brazilian all I have to do is wash it and my curls are poppin'."

"Yours?" I asked. "That is definitely some Brazilian ladies hair."

"God please bless the Brazilian lady that gave me all four of these bundles. She had some nice ass curls. She the real MVP." She said, bowing her head and acting like she was praying. "And technically this is my hair because I paid for it what you mean girl try again."

"This is why God don't like you! Always playin'."

"God loves me, okay? That's why he blessed me with all this weave. Tryna help a sista' out."

"Mhm," I said, looking at my clock. "Ima' call you later though. It's almost one in the morning over here and Chresanto light skinned ass has yet to call me."

"Don't be to hard on my brotha! It's hard out here for a pimp!"

"Bye, Darshay." I giggled.

I ended the FaceTime call and dialed Chresanto's number.

"Hello?" He answered with a whole bunch of noise in the background.

"You forgot to call me." I spoke, looking at my acrylic nails.

"It's only nine."

"Add three, boo boo I am in New York."

"My bad, me and the guys are at the bar right now."

"Yeah, Darshay told me. What are y'all doing?"

"Minding our business."

"You do know who you're on the phone with, right? Brielle Perez also know as your girlfriend. Don't catch hands, Chresanto."

"I know, babes but I'm kind of having some guy time right now with Jacob and Rayan."

"You see them all the time, Chresanto. I specifically stay awake until almost two in the morning just so we can talk on Wednesdays. I do have a seven am class tomorrow morning and I'm making time for you, you should be making some time for me too."

"I will, I'll call you back in a hour."'

"Cheresanto, if you hang up this phone I promise you that I'll go to sleep and you won't be talking to me at all until Friday. I need to get some sleep too."

"Brielle, chill. We'll talk and you'll get some sleep too. I got this."

I sighed. "Whatever, Chres. I just wanted to talk to my boyfriend for one hour because I haven't talked to him all week. I'll talk to you on Friday. Go have fun with the guys. I'll talk to you later."

"Brielle-"

"It's okay, I'll just text you tomorrow. Love you."

I knew he rolled his eyes because he always did that when I cut our conversation short because I was upset or irritated. "Love you too and goodnight."

I hung up the phone and laid flat on my back looking at the pictures that I glued to the ceiling. It was mostly pictures of Chresanto and I that made me smile every time I woke up and every time that I went to bed. They helped me stay sane.

I know I sounded like a prissy brat on the phone with Chresanto, but he always hangs out with his friends. We specifically schedule Wednesday and Friday nights to talk to each other. It just makes me mad when he does other things and I don't get to talk to him.

"You okay, big booty?" Kenya asked me, sitting on the edge of my bed.

"Yeah," I yawned. "I'm tired as hell and I have a early morning class tomorrow."

"Okay, get some rest."

"Okay."

"Brielle."

"Yes?"

"Don't be too hard on Chresanto, you're going to see his bum ass next week."

I laughed. "Go to bed, Kenya."

"Love you, Pookie."

"Love you too."