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Food Smells Good

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Food Smells Good

Back In Atlanta
5:30 P.M

Jada Pittman
......

Jada Pittman

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"Hey Mr. D." I smiled once he opened the door already holding my hand out giving him a fist pound that he gladly participated in.

"Sup Jada, Delilah already called, just started working on your meal." He told me letting me inside the house.

"Cool, I'll just wait in the man cave."

"Oh okay, sure. My little brother is actually down there, he's moving down here with my dad."

"The one that has problems in school?" I asked as we found our way to the kitchen.

"I wouldn't necessarily say problems," He took his place in front of the stove, "He just likes beating up peoples kids and sending them to the ER on occasion, but it's not a problem."

"Mhm, totally not a problem. And how old is he again?" I asked leaning over on the counter, using my elbow as support.

"He's seventeen, but he looks like a grown ass man with that wolf on his damn face."

"Wolf on his face?"

He ceased what he was doing, and peered over his shoulder at me. He chuckled a little then proceeded with cooking whatever that delicious smelling concoction is.

"It's an expression. It means he has alot of facial hair; grown women always hit on his white ass thinking he's a man. Funny thing is, his nickname is baby face."

"But I thought you said-,"

"Because when he shaves he looks like a whole seven year old out here."

"Aww c'mon Mr. D, stop jabbing your bro." I laughed.

"I can't man, that nigga is a whole toddler out here and got the never to beat on people's kids. His kiddy ass."

"I'm finna go snitch."

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