HEY YA'LLLLL
SOOOOO SORRY MY BITCH ASS HASN'T BEEN UPLOADING, I'VE GOT SCHOOL ALL YEAR ROUND SOO....
THIS PART HAS POOKIE'S P.O.V. AND THERE'S A REAL CLIFFHANGER AT THE END!!!
ANYWAYS, PLEASE FORGIVE ME AND ENJOY THE STORY....VOTE, COMMENT THAT THANG UP AND ENJOY :)
The plot of the story is actually finally coming into place so...lol
Anyways, please give me any suggestions, and hopefully, I'll be trying to upload on a weekly basis :D
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I smiled at Derrel and then picked up my laundry. "Still gotta wash these stanky clothes," I mumbled, eyeing the pile of Devon and Devin's clothes. Derrel took the basket from me and grinned.
"I got it," he said, walking down the rest of the stairs towards the laundy room. He set the basket on the floor and twisted the knob twice, and then shook it. The old wooden door creaked open and we stepped in, looking around the busted-up laundry.
Derrel sat on top of one the washing machines, tapping his shoes and waiting for me. Lante pulled out his iPod and played "I'm Steezin'" by Wes Nyle and Cliff Savage. He started to jerk and Derrel started banging on the machine, matching the beat. I laughed and watched, stuffing the clothes into the machine and pouring the detergent in. I put in five quarters and pressed COLORS.
"Let's go, white boy," I said, taking his iPod and pausing the song.
Lante stopped and gave me a dirty look. "Jealous ass; ruinin' my rythym," he mumbled. He grabbed his iPod and walked out the door.
"He's a punk," Derrel said, jumping down from the machine. He put his arm around me and we walked out, kicking my basket in front of us. He looked particularly fine today, wearing a black leather jacket, white V-neck underneath, black skinnies, and lime green dunks. He was wearing a long black chain and big black sunglasses that curved in. His hair was spiked as usual, but looked a little darker.
We stepped into the hallway, so i said, "Hey, lemme go put this basket inside and change. I'll be right back."
"Alright, I'll be outside with the white boy," he said, letting go of me and walking outside.
I smiled and walked up the stairs to my apartment. I opened the door and went inside. Just as I went to my room, I got a call. It was from a private number. "Hello?" I asked, looking in the closet I shared with Accacia to look for something to wear.
"Is this Kira Morgan?" a rather annoyed male voice asked.
"Who's askin'?" I replied a little rudely. I just didn't want to get friendly with this stranger just yet.
"Mr. Gutierrez, little one," he replied.
I frowned. "Who gave you my number?" I asked angrily.
"My son, if you must know. You know, the one who went to a party last night without my permission." He sighed into the phone and I rolled my eyes.
"Why are you calling? I have nothing to do with your little twin, OK? I'm hanging up now," I said angrily.
"Wait!" he said quickly. "I need to ask you something."
"What?" I asked, picking up a pair of green leopard print skinnies. I put them on my bed and threw a skinny silver belt over them.
"I didn't get your father's number, so I'd appreciate it if you told me what it was. It's pretty urgent," he added, a little impatiently.
"Oh? Gonna ask him for spiritual advice? He's got a life, you know," I said angrily. He always gave me attitude, so why shouldn't I give it back?
