- cinira 'nyiah' brooks' pov | chapter forty-three (43)
- nov 28 {same day as last chapter} | lil peep - big city blues
the whole time she drove, journey had the radio playing a station that really only play that old typa r&b music. i was gonna say something about it but since it was her car and she was driving and stuff, i decided not to.
journey car is a 2008 volkswagen. she told me that when she had stopped to get gas. i told her again, that her car was old as hell but then she was like, "well my car younger than you," as if that was supposed to mean some shit.
it didn't. so i was like, "ok whatever - get back and drive us to chipotle" and then she was like, "we not even going to chipotle so hush" i hushed. and no, it's not because she said to, but because i didn't feel like talking anymore.
anyway, when journey pulled into the parking lot of olive garden, i kinda got excited. i like italin food. i think i told her that on the night we met.
".. so my grandma ended up telling on him and when human resources didn't react the way they was supposed to, she sued the shit out of they asses.." journey continues to tell me a story about how her grandma became a millionaire from her seat in the other part of the booth across from mine. "her lawyer said all the right shit at the trial and got a 10 million dollar settlement."
"dang." i mumble, sipping the glass of ice water the waiter gave me through a straw. "and she still got all that money?"
journey nod, "some of it. yeah."
"what's some of it?" i ask, curious for a reason i don't know. journey shrug. "half of what she started with."
i nod. "oh," she nod again. mumble, "yeah.." as she do.
our conversations keep going nowhere. her and me start talking about something but then all of a sudden we not.
it's kind of boring me. she's kinda boring.
where our 'hmph' supposed to be at? if we don't got one, the universe need to let me know before i waste anymore time on her ass.
"so how yo studies been going?" she ask out of the blue.
i look at her like she one of my uncles or something. asking me about school - that's like, they favorite thing to ask a bitch. especially on thanksgiving. "fuck you is?" i squint my eyes at her. "a family member?"
she roll her eyes, "you always got some smart ass shit to say."
"oh, well." i shrug. "can't help that i'm an intellectual." i tell her matter of factly.
she cock her head a lil bit. when we had a dog, he used to do that a lot. "spell intellectual." she tells me.
i don't know how. and if i try to, i might be wrong. i rather stab myself in the tongue with a knife and eat a whole lemon after before i let her know i ain't good at spelling. so i just make my eyes go wide and pretend to be shocked. "ohh, so now you supposed to be a spelling bee?" i ask.
journey raise her hand. her long sleeve come down a lil and show off some of the tattoo that contriboot to her whole arm tattoo. "ay, one of y'all come give her the check or something." she call out loud, not being loud. "she being a lil too outrageous for me."
"sorry i can't be in-rageous," i say, my voice a little louder than the crying baby who sitting with the family in the booth behind us. "i just wasn't born like that."
she drop her arm, eyeing me with a grin. "cinira, that doesn't even make any sense." i like the way she cents.
"it don't have to." i shrug, leaning forward to sip more of my drink. "with yo 'i own an old car' ass,"
