"Luke," I mumbled, "I'm not a tut...."
"We'd pay you," Liz cut in, "All you'd have to do is study with him a little, plus it looks good on a college application."
Looking down at my hands I sighed, "I guess maybe I could."
"Can you teach me how to do like math and stuff?" Luke gushed.
"I don't know," I mumbled, "Maybe."
"You hear that mom he said maybe!" Luke cried.
"Yes I heard," Liz answered.
Suddenly we pulled to a stop outside the familiar more or less mansion that was Michael's house.
"Thanks for the ride Mom," Luke said, as he kissed her on the cheek and hopped out.
"Yeah thanks Mrs. Hemmings," I added.
"Don't worry about it," she replied, "You just think about that tutoring."
Forcing a smile I nodded and standing beside Luke waved as she pulled down the driveway and out of sight.
Once she was gone I turned to Luke, "What are we doing here?"
"You'll see," he replied, grabbing me by the sleeve and tugging me up the front steps, not even bothering to knock before throwing the door open.
"Luke!" I hissed.
"It's fine," he replied, stepping inside and kicking off his shoes.
Suddenly Mr. Clifford rounded the corner and my eyes nearly popped out of my head at the sight of him in a bathing suit.
His eyes trained on the grotesque bulge in the older man's speedo, Luke opened then closed his mouth repeatedly.
"Hi boys!" Me. Clifford greeted, oblivious to Luke's staring, "I've just been in the hot tub. Thought I'd come in and get a little snickel snack if you pick up what I'm throwing down."
"What?" I asked.
"Oh you kids," he laughed, "I'm just trying to wet my whistle you know what I'm saying? Get a little grub in the tum. You picking up what I'm laying down home skillet? Home fry? Mc Smashy Ash and dj Hemmo96."
"Sorry?" Luke mumbled.
"You two dawgs are tight ya feel?" Mr. Clifford chuckled, "ya'll g-units are my home boys am I right or am I right? Like you my boys, my crew. West side biatches!"
Luke and I watched on in stunned confusion as Mr. Clifford twisted his fingers up into some sort of gang sign.
"You lil pimp daddies keep my cracking," he cried, "You keep the party popping! You know what I'm staying?"
"No Dad!" A voice from the stairs spat suddenly, "Nobody has any damn idea what the frick you're saying you weird ass want to be gangster old man. Why can't you just go golfing like a regular Dad?"
Licking my lips I looked up nervously to find Michael glowering down at us.
"Hi," Luke mumbled sheepishly.
"Ignore him," Michael huffed, "He's been watching rap videos."
Turning on his heel he started back up the stairs towards his room, "Well!" He shouted over his shoulder after a moment, realizing we weren't following, "Are you coming or would you rather fry your brains with home skillet?"
Sending Mr. Clifford apologetic glances, Luke and I stepped around him, giving him and his.... Area a wide berth before trotting up the stairs after Michael.
Part Twenty
Start from the beginning
