Gianna's Grit | ✓

V: Leave it to the Photo Albums

"Thank you," I took my bag, "What is the album for?"

"Hush up and look," she said sternly before leaving once and for all, closing my door behind her.

I huffed, her response both normal and calming to me after her earlier attempt at forced comforting. I found myself flipping through the pages of photographs, eventually moving as to better nurse my back, and noticed one in particular.

I was standing between two boys, we all must have been going into middle school, and I immediately recognized Kamari. However. my eyes stuck to the boy on my left, and I sighed deeply in recognition.

I smiled, "Zion."

Zoin James. The good boy gone bad after his drug selling dad and pregnant mom were shot via drive by. Saul didn't hesitate to take him in before the little brothers, desperate for a leader, could.

I guess that plan backfired, he ended up running back to it just like his dad always did.

I rummaged through my purse and didn't find the paper, so then I looked through my pile of discarded clothing. I nearly screamed in accomplishment when I found it, but couldn't even dial the numbers once my trebling hands found my phone.

What if hates me now?

I was a bitch.

I was just curious.

But I got on his nerves.

He could kill me.

He almost did kill me.

But he stopped—

"Fuck it," I huffed before dialing the number. I hadn't realized how long I'd spent weighing my options until he picked up.

The line was quiet other than soft rumbling in the background, which resembled muffled.. music?

"Zion?" I breathed, hesitating slightly.

There was shuffling and a pause of silence before a rough, "Gianna," responded. "You remembered me."

"I feel like an ass for not recognizing you the first time," I revealed, the guilt now settling in.

"I wasn't trying to look like some little brace faced kid anyway," he almost joked. "A lot changed after you left for private school, ma."

There it was.

I peered down at the photograph, "I didn't have much of a choice. Georgia packed my stuff the night before it started, and shipped me off to boarding school in the knick of time. I didn't even have my own phone until junior year."

"You never came back to visit," he argued.

"Georgia is always comparing me to Brielle, you know that," I reasoned. "It suffocates me."

"Nothing was the same for me with you gone," he continued on, "even though Kamari was your little boyfriend."

"He was also my first kiss," I shot back, not in the mood to be blamed for everything turning out this way.

"He shouldn't have been," Zion muttered.

"I can make my own decisions, King," I stressed. "I'm old enough to take care of myself, and I was only twelve when she made me leave!"

"You could've hid until Saul and Philly got home," he said anyway. "You didn't even try—"

"You think you know everything, but you don't," I fought to keep myself from yelling. "Georgia would have beat me black and blue after busting down any door that stood between us."

"You think getting a whoopin' is worse then being shot at everyday and told to suck it up?!" He wasn't afraid to bark. "You left to become Miss Perfect while we were left to fend for ourselves, Gianna!"

"I was a child!" I finally yelled.

"You were a punk!" He shouted back. "Georgia gave you a way out and you took it! You say I don't know anything? You don't know anything!"

"How dare you—"

"Don't call this number unless you're bleeding out," he said curtly before ending the call just as quick.

I called repeatedly, but got the same dial tone every single time. I threw my phone aside and covered myself with the comforter.