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Why would Tyler be messaging me? Jordan took notice to my sudden change in moods, and tilted his head ever so slightly.
"What's the matter?" He questioned in concern. "Um, Tyler just messaged me." I spoke, still confused as to why he would message me, of all people.
Syre: First off, how'd you get my number?
I sent the message, before getting one back almost instantly.
(323)-275-1658: Rocky gave it to me. I asked for it.
Syre: For what? I thought you didn't like me as a person.
(323)-275-1658: That's far from the truth. I meant to apologize when I said you asked a lot of questions. You were just curious, and what I said came out wrong. When you walked away to sit down, I guess I was somewhat scared to confront you about it?
I couldn't help but smile a bit. I thought he didn't notice me when I walked away, honestly. Plus I don't know why he would be scared to tell me anything. I'm more than forgiving. My finger tapped onto the contact, as I changed his name. He sent another message.
Syre: Say less, Tyler. Are you going to Rocky's party tomorrow?
"Aye, I'm about to head to the corner store. You want a Capri Sun, you wannabe baby?" Jordan teased, as my middle finger went up, flicking him off. "Nah, just get me a brisk. The red one." I spoke, as he held his hand out.
I sighed, shoving my hand into my pocket, pulling out a ten dollar bill. He attempted to grab it from between my index and middle fingers, yet I quickly pulled my hand back.
"Give me some sugar, booger." I teased, puckering my lips at him. He rolled his eyes for the umpteenth time, before pecking his lips against mine. I quickly leaned back, wiping my lips off while chuckling. It caught me off guard, honestly.
"Ew, I was joking, didn't think you'd actually do it." I made a face of fake disgust, as he snatched the bill from out of my hand. "Don't fuck around with me anymore, Sy." He demanded.
"Now you know that I will absolutely not stop fucking around with you. Now be gone." I shooed him out, before feeling my phone vibrate. He chuckled, walking out of the apartment, not before closing the door behind himself.
Daddy Dos: Yeah, of course. I wouldn't miss it. Are you coming?
Syre: I believe so. Beats staying at home and watching my roommate roll up a kabillion blunts all day, like it's his 9 to 5.
Daddy Dos: Sounds like a bet. I'll see you then.
Syre: Hey, wait. Do you skate? You just look like you do, with the kicks and your fit.
