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There were two of them, two girls stood at our lunch table, and both Chris and Tremaine were entertaining them

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There were two of them, two girls stood at our lunch table, and both Chris and Tremaine were entertaining them. Both girls were wearing tops that were a size too small, resulting in their breasts nearly popping out.

I didn't need close inspection to know that they were wearing push-up bras, man's worst enemy. If a girl had small breasts, she should've dealt with it, but to go and buy a product to help her lie and deceive people? Now that was just foul.

         Neither Tremaine nor Chris seemed to mind as they continued to talk to the girls.

         We were sitting outside in the outdoor cafeteria on the quad. It was April and the snow and cold had finally left Ohio, making some of our female peers show off their skin. Tremaine and Chris were definitely admiring the two sets of breasts practically being shoved in their faces. I couldn't blame them for staring, not when it was obvious that's what the girls wanted.

         The chase wasn't fun when they looked desperate.

         Our table was facing the windows, giving us a peek into the indoor cafeteria. One glance inside and I caught Cree walking with Troiann and some other girls.

         I knew females well. I could tell what they were all about within the first five minutes of speaking to them. I could tell whether they were the emotional type, the clingy type, if they moaned in bed or liked it rough. It wasn't that hard figuring out the female race, but then there was Cree Jacobs, the only exception.

         Every bad bitch needed her anthem, and every good girl needed a choir. And it was more than obvious what type of girl Cree Jacobs was—on the surface.

         When I was close to her after class, I was surprised to find that she smelled good, like coconut, and not like venom like I suspected.

         I watched as Cree and her friends went in search for a spot to sit down and eat. She moved gracefully, as if she were walking on air. It wasn't normal. "Angel" suited her well, especially with the way she was acting all holier-than-thou with that uppity shit she was pulling in class.

         Never before had I noticed her, but when we slightly disagreed and she took to gossiping with her friend, Cree walked right into my radar. I hadn't any qualms against her until she started throwing jabs.

         Cree had basically called me a disease ridden dog, and that was hella disrespectful and I did not tolerate disrespect.

         People hated on me and my friends, mostly because they weren't attached or invited to kick it with us. And to be honest, I'd hate me too if I wasn't involved in the shit me and my boys got into. We did our school work and extracurricular activities and then we had our fun on and off the court or field. There was an abundance of females at Moorehead High and we definitely took advantage of it. We were young and living it up.

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