"What's wrong with her?"
In which the troubled girl from his past returns after a run in. Turns out she's still trouble but he likes that about her.
OR
In which a troubled girl recounts her past with the famous rapper after a run in revealing that...
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GOOD ENOUGH
We advise that you listen to: Like A Tattoo by Sade
March 2013, Age 15
"Happy Birthday, Violet. Happy Birthday. Happy Birthday, to me." Violet whispered to herself in her dinky bathroom mirror. The cracked mirror was on brand for her. Distorted and broken.
She focused on her new hairstyle. No longer natural, Violet was impressed at her relaxed straightened hair. She had dyed it black with two streaks of blonde in the front the night before. She looked drastically different.
Her nose piercing that she did herself shined even in the low lighting. Violet pulled her book bag over her shoulder as she entered the living room. Her mother had been gone for weeks on a binge. She was alone.
"Happy Birthday," Natalie said handing her a small envelope.
Violet smiled but it was so fucking fake, "Thanks."
The two walked through the halls ignoring the whispers.
"Hey, slut."
"She really slept with Manny?"
"I heard it was the whole football team."
Violet kept her head held high. She had an extra pep in her step. This new sense of sexuality and sexual attention pumped through her veins. Natalie gave her a look, "You alright with them talking about you like that?"
Violet smiled, "I love it."
After enduring another day at school, Violet found herself sitting in front of Oakley. His chin sat on his hands as he rested in the leather booth. Violet downed her milkshake digging into her fries. Oakley smiled, "When was the last time you ate?"
Violet slowed down her chewing, "If we're being honest, probably last week."
His smile dropped, "What?"
Violet sighed, "I shouldn't have said anything?"
"Where's May?" He asked referring to her mother.
Violet shrugged as she dipped her chicken tender into the honey mustard, "She's been on a binge for a few weeks."
"Vi."
"Don't. I'm just trying to enjoy my birthday."
"Fine."
Oakley unlocked the front door of his home two neighborhoods from Violet. The sounds of reggae music came from the beaten radio. Violet smiled smelling food cooking from the oven. Oakley's younger brother who they called Juke stumbled into the entryway.
"Violet, happy birthday!" He screamed grinning.
Violet smiled slightly. Juke was twelve going on twenty, "What's good kid?"
