Chapter 2

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Jolié POV

After school, Bambi and I pranced our way to the metro rail, on our way to her crib. When had no more than 6 hours to prepare for our girls night together, so we had hella time on our hands. Walking hand and hand, Bambi always wanted to clutch my hands. Which I didn't mind, I mean she's been my best friend since the 3rd grade.I loved her like the sister I've never had.

"yo, what you planned on wearing bee? In her New York accent.
"Ion know Noelle" I replied
She slightly punched me in my right arm causing me to laugh because I knew she hated her maiden name.
"Don't call me that lame ass name!" She screeched.
"My bad, Noelle Elizabeth McMahon" She gave me the death look, if looks can kill 9 times out of 10 I'll be dead.

See Bambi never liked her name , she thought it was too 'white', therefore I gave her the nickname "Bambi" because she always had skinny legs. Her mother was Italian and her father was African American, but she look more black than anything , but you could still tell she was mixed. They moved to Miami to escape the hardships Brooklyn had to offer and her abusive father. We were different on many levels but not having a man to call "daddy" was something we shared.

"...but forreal tho, we should hit up bayside, I got two stacks to spare, I gotcha yo" I said showing her the money wrapped in rubber bands.

"The fuck ? How you get a hold of so much bread like that, you selling your pussy huh? " she said in amazement.

"Bitch NO!" I was a proud 17 year old virgin. "Don't worry bout all that lil mama, just know I gotcha, we finna tear some shit up tonight" I randomly started twerking in the middle of the road.

Little did she know I've been slanging dope since I was fifteen. Well, I wouldn't technically called it 'slanging', but for one of the biggest dope dealers around, Tone. See, he never even made it passed the 5th grade. I guess the street life took a tole on him, therefore he was illiterate , couldn't read nor count well but he was street smart. Since I was a MathWiz; all I did was calculate his money, made sure no nigga played him, when it came down to his packages. In result, he always cut me off a good piece of change. I had no choice but to be independent, my mother wouldn't even buy me a bar of soap. Far as I'm concern , she doesn't care about me.

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