To some, because we didn't make it a habit to wife or cuff a girl, we were heartless assholes, but in reality, we were just being realistic. There was no way in hell any us were interested in the long term—we were in high school.
In our eyes, one night was all you got, two if you was bad enough.
Only simple minded people believed in that happily ever after shit in high school.
The more I sat and watched Cree, the more pissed off I became at her words.
Troiann had known better. One look was all it took to shut her up. I guess it also went to show that Cree had no clue her best friend was sleeping with my best friend. None of us were guarded when it came to the girls we messed with and it was no secret Marcus was getting it in with Troiann.
Troiann Nguyen was a walking weapon.
The sound of clapping pulled me from my staring.
Chris and Tremaine were laughing about something as they shook hands.
Marcus was shaking his head. "They were freshmen."
Tremaine shrugged. "Ay, we got one more year before they're untouchable, why not?"
We were juniors, nearly seniors, nearly eighteen, and then the girls would be jailbait.
Either way, they weren't that cute.
Chris slapped Tremaine's chest. "Yo, Tyra's actually a sophomore."
Tremaine nodded. "And she's on the step team. People say she look like Kelly Rowland."
I shook my head. No, she did not. She looked more like a member of Poverty's Child than anything. "Do what you gotta do, Trey."
"I'm just looking for a tutor," Chris said, a near desperate look in his blue eyes. "My pops gone kill me if I fail geography."
Dude knew every Future lyric yet couldn't memorize the shit we were learning in class. Pathetic.
"Nah, she too young to get into After Hours with us. Y'all wanna go tonight?" Tremaine asked. "I'm tryna get turnt up."
I hated that phrase. As big of a fan of rap or hip-hop as I was, if there was one thing I despised most, it was when rappers said something in their songs and then regular, basic people started running it into the ground. First it was "YOLO" with Drake, or "cray" with Kanye and now the latest craze was "turnt up." That shit sounded especially wack coming from a nobody.
Bobbing my head anyway, I agreed. "Yeah, we can get into something."
Usually we went to After Hours, the local club, it was eighteen and over, with a few all-ages nights, but we never got carded. If we weren't at After Hours, we chilled out at Inferno, a strip club Chris had connections to. His cousin was a bouncer and a big fan of our football and basketball and he usually let us sneak in.
I let the boys discuss the evening's endeavors as I once again found myself watching Cree. She was definitely a virgin, or else she wouldn't have been up on my case about my sex life. Despite her annoying attitude, she wasn't ugly. Her long dark hair was out of her face, letting her pretty features shine. She wasn't the type of girl you'd look twice at or use your best lines on, but she was definitely a pretty little thing.
A French fry landed on my tray, distracting me.
"You still on Cree Jacobs?" Tremaine asked, shaking his head. "Let it go, she was just talking to hear herself talk."
YOU ARE READING
Playin' HardTeen Fiction
Hard Novel #1 When star athlete, DeAndre Parker clashes with a tough no-nonsense female classmate, he quickly learns that unlike basketball, there's no playin' hard in the game of love.