Oxymoron | ScHoolboy Q

Chapter 5

Directly after school the next day, Quincy's mother had him run to the store to pick her up a pack of cigarettes. Although he didn't want to go and get her something that she didn't need, he didn't need her in his ear again. Lord knows she was good for going off on him, and he didn't have the patience to sit and listen to her today.

After handing him a couple of dollars, Quincy was on his way. The store he usually went to was only a block behind his house, so he decided to walk. It felt fairly nice out, and there was no point in using gas for such a short distance. Once there, Quincy found Trigg, Jesus, and Roland standing outside the store, each smoking a cigarette.

They knew better than to smoke a blunt during this time of day, especially in an open area such as where they were now. They quickly spotted Quincy as they put out the cigarettes, and dapped him as he approached.

"What's up Q?" Trigg greeted him with a small cough.

"Yo," Q dapped him, nodding in Roland and Jesus's direction afterwards.

"What you doing up here?"

"Shit, picking these fucking cancer sticks up for my moms."

"Cancer sticks?" Trigg laughed in a questioning tone. "Damn yo' moms been smoking for a minute now haven't she?"

"Unfortunately," Q sighed. "Ever since my pops died."

Quincy's father lost his life to the army during a battle in Germany, which is where he was also born a year later. His mother moved him to L.A. so they could start a new life, but the pain still had cut her deep. As a way to escape the pain and release the stress, cigarettes came into the picture.

Quincy never met his dad, and it was normal for him growing up, watching his mother smoke her life away because it was all he knew.

"Damn yo," Trigg shook his head.

Quincy sucked his teeth as he quickly changed the subject. "What y'all doing up here anyways?"

"Business," said Trigg.

Quincy chuckled as he shook his head. "Why am I not surprised? But I gotta' go and get these cigarettes and hurry up and get back home before my moms get in my ass."

"I understand," Trigg laughed. "One thing before you go though.

"Wassup?"

"What you doing this Friday?" Trigg asked.

"Nothing most likely, why what's up?"

"I'm having a kick back with a few people. Nothing big like a party or something - just something small. You should slide through."

"I'll see what I can do," Quincy nodded.

"Alright then."

They gave each other one last dap before Quincy made his way inside the store.

When ever Quincy's mom had him go to the store to ger her cigarettes, she always let him use the left over change to buy himself something. She always gave him a ten, and cigarettes typically costed $6 plus tax. That left Quincy left with $3 and some change.

The corner store prices weren't crazy, and Quincy never got a lot of things anyways. He spent the extra three dollars on the same two things every time - swishers and chips. Making his way to the area that held the chips, meanwhile, Brielle and Ashante was entering the store.

Both girls took regualr trips to the corner store after school, before Brielle went to work. Ashante on the other hand didn't have a job, so Brielle was always the one who was paying for their things. Brielle rarely got things for herself, but she made sure she looked out others.

"What do you want?" Brielle asked Ashante, following behind her.

"You know I get the same shit every time bae. Chips and watermelon Arizona," she replied in a 'duh' tone as she made her way towards the chip asile.

"What type of chips?" Bre asked her with a sigh. "There's millions to pick from."

"You're over exaggerating. There's only like ten. And that's what you're helping me with baby," said Ashante as she wrapped her arms around Bre's curvy body.

Bre rolled her eyes with a small chuckle as she pushed her glasses up her nose. Once making their way over to the chips, Ashante quickly looked over the selection of chips, as Brielle's eyes wandered around the store. Her eyes so happened to land on Quincy who was busy doing the same.

"Hot Fries or hot Funyuns?" Ashante asked Brielle, picking up both. "Bre. Bre!"

"Huh?" she quickly replied, snapping out of her thoughts.

Ashante suddenly looked in the direction in which Bre was looking in as she smiled.

"Is that the guy from your brother's party?" Ashante asked.

"I think so, but I dont care," Bre shrugged her shoulders. "Hurry up and get these chips so I can get to work."

"You don't care? Girl please I saw the way you was looking at him," Ashante playfully pushed her. "But bitch you're in a relationship with me. You can't be looking at other people."

"I'm sorry baby," Bre replied, quickly looking away from Quincy.

Ashante shook her head with a chuckle as she decided on the Hot Fries, grabbed Brielle's hand, then started for the checkout. As they made their way out the aisle, Bre decided she would take one last look behind her, but quickly turned back around when she realized that he had caught her looking. Ashante continued to pull her along as Quincy smiled to himself.

He shook his head as he grabbed a can of Sour Cream and Onion Pringles, then made his way behind them to the checkout to pay for the chips, and to also grab a pacakge of swishers and cigarettes. By the time he made his way to the register, Ashante and Brielle were already out the door.

Once making his way home, he handed his mom the pack of cigarettes she asked for, put his package of swishers up, then started dinner. He decided to prepare something simple such as spaghetti. He didn't have the energy to prepare a big dinner, and he didn't have the skills to even if he did.

Quincy never cooked dinner, but he sometimes decided to make something simple or pick up something from the store so his mom didn't have to. He also wanted to make dinner to get back on his moms good side since she has been mad at him lately.

After the spaghetti was done, he fixed both him and his mother a plate, washed dishes, then went upstairs to get ready for school the next day. Quincy's nightly routine normally consisted of picking out his outfit that he planned on wearing the next day, smoking, and writing what ever came to mind down in his notebook.

Quincy had a fond passion for writing music that not too many people knew about. He had no idea on what he wanted to go to college for or even knew if he was going to college, but one thing he did know is that he wanted to make music. He obviously needed to continue school so he could at least have a job, but as soon as he received his high school diploma, his main focus was going to be his music.

If it worked out it worked, and if it didn't, it didn't. Quincy was always fully committed to what ever he committed to, and never believed in not taking chances. His mother always drilled into his head that you miss 100 percent of the shots that you don't take.

If there was one thing Quincy listened to that his mother told him, was that.