cuffing season.

three.

symere

"by the time symere goes to hell, i'll be cuffed and officially happy." tyler mumbled, who was supposed to be working on this dumbass pop quiz.

"then, that's gonna be pretty soon." stokeley laughed, and i rolled my eyes.

"when i commit die, don't attend my funeral."

getting up from my seat, i handed the teacher my paper, before sitting back down.

my phone vibrated in my pocket, smiling at who it was.

jordan <333 : you going to the county fair tonight ?

: tonight's a school night, so no.

jordan <333 : 🙄 you're a nerd.

: who says nerd anymore? lmao .

jordan <333 : plsss go , i'll be alone of you don't go 🥺 .

: fine, you better pick me up too.

pushing my phone back in my pocket, i turned around, to see tyler smirking at me.

"i see you had fun texting your lil' boyfriend." he waved his finger at me, smirking hard as hell.

"you don't even like him, you never liked him, for a fact." i snickered, rolling my eyes.

"no, because the nigga had the audacity to bring me a birthday gift, on my birthday, to my birthday party, on my birthday, with a birthday gift," he smacked his lips, "like make it make sense."

he's mentally ill. i swear.

thank god it was the last class of the day, then i can go home and wait for my baby, i mean jordan, to pick me up.

"symere, you still going over marcia's tonight?" tyler asked, looking at me.

"nope, i'm busy."

"you're never busy, this is the first time you ditched us, so jesus is coming." tyler shook his desk, making a loud ruckus.

i—

"no, i'm just going out with jordan." i explained, setting my head down so the teacher won't look at me.

i hate when teachers even peek at me, like no.

"y'all going to that corny ass fair, that shit's mad corny, and we're too old for that." tyler snapped, sitting back in his chair.

"you're still mad because rakim didn't win that big teddy bear you wanted."

"i-," he grabbed his mouth, looking at me, "your right."

"tyler and symere, stop talking! you're disrupting the class!"

"all these niggas are screaming, and you decide to yell at us, make it make sense."