28. I don't know

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July 2nd, 1993


"I'm heading out, bye E." Birdie said to me as he peaked his head in the doorway.

"Bye Birdie," I said without even looking at him.

I could see him approaching me from the corner of my eye. My eyes closed neutrally as I felt his lips press softly against my forehead. I opened my eyes grabbing his face quickly, placing a soft kiss onto his lips.

"The fourth is in a couple of days. What are we doing?" I questioned keeping my hands on his face.

He looked into my eyes, then quickly looked back down before shrugging. "Shit, ion know. I don't got no family and yo family don't want shit to do with you."

"Oh, shut up!" I shoved his shoulder, causing him to laugh.

"I'm just saying." He said through his laughter.

"Whatever." I rolled my eyes. "That's not true, they would be happy to see me, I think. Anyways, we could spend the night together, or invite my auntie over." I suggested.

He kissed his teeth, screw facing me. "That crazy bitch?"

"Watch your mouth Birdie," I said pointing my finger at him.

He put his eyes in his head. "Whatever."

"She's the only family that I have right now. And I know that she won't act a fool since she's sober now."

"Yeah, that's what she wanted you to think." He mumbled under his breath.

I watched him with fire in my eyes, as he walked over to the sink. "Or we could call Shepherd," I said without thinking.

"Don't ever fuckin' say his name in here." He said turning around to face me.

I blinked staring into his cold eyes. His eye twitched before he turned back around. "That nigga ain't shit to me." He spat.

I sighed taking a step closer. "I'm sorry Birdie, it just slipped."

"Don't worry about it, just don't say that shit again."

"Okay, okay," I said putting my hands up in surrender.

He said nothing as he finished washing his dish out. I raised a brow confused as I watched him.

"I thought you had to go?" I said folding my arms.

"I ain't gots to do nothing."

"You 'gots' to use proper English." I mocked.

"Proper English my ass. That's how I fuckin' talk, whitey."

"Can you stop calling me that?" I said annoyed.

"Nope that's ya nickname." He laughed.

"Okay, Bishop." I teased.

"I'm bout tired of you callin' me that shit!" He laughed as he swept me off my feet.

"Put me down!" I screamed through laughter.

"Nope!" He held me tighter as he took off running, going into the living room.

"Put me down, now!"

"Not until you say the right name!" He yelled back.

"Okay, Bishop!"

"Oh? You really wanna play." He raised me high above his head and started swinging me in a circle.

"Oh my god! Birdie put me down!"

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