Jahseh
Cursing under my breath, I dart through the parking lot of Broward County Public School with the mental reminder that I'm four hours late to class. If it weren't for Nora's bickering, I could have gotten here a half hour earlier.
Nonetheless, my mom will kick my ass if she finds out I'm late to my second day of school. The second I walk inside the building, my heart clenches. There's nobody in the corridor, which means my last class has started already.
"Fuck," I whisper, eyeing the numbers on the classroom doors. I've got Math in Room 18. Repeating blasphemies under my breath, I finally find the room with haste. I gaze at the students in the classroom, my anxiety kicking me in the ass. Fuck.
They're all gonna stare at me when I walk inside. There's no way I can get out of this — that's for fucking sure. Lowering my head as I enter the classroom, I can feel everybody's burning gaze on me immediately.
"Mr Onfroy, you are late," the teacher says, but I don't dare to meet her gaze.
"Sorry, miss."
With that, my eyes scan the classroom for empty chairs, wanting to kick myself when I realise the only seat left is in the front row. A few people snicker as if they were a bunch of children as I take a seat.
Oh. That's right. They are children.
Trying to ignore people's comments, I keep my head low before opening my textbook. The second the lesson ends, I run for the door without hesitation. I'm fucking done with school, especially after the whole prison thing.
Everybody seems to fucking think they know me. Teenage dudes and girls glare at me as if I had a second head as I make my way outside. They whisper inaudible shit that I can't make out, but I know they're lowkey making fun of my appearance.
They know I don't fit in here.
Grunting, I rev up the engine once I get to my mom's beaten-down car, hoping I didn't have to show up here again tomorrow. I make it onto the main road which takes me back home, my phone suddenly buzzing on the passenger seat.
Ski 🙏: vro u remember that shit u told me about psycho?
He's talking about Arya's pregnancy status. My heart begins to thump in my chest loudly, forcing me to pull over. I'm not fucking sure if I'm ready to hear the news.
me: yea, did u find out?
Ski 🙏: yea man.
I glare at the screen, sweat forming on my palms as I watch Ski type something else. I swear to fucking God time isn't passing. The ellipsis symbol under his last text dries my throat.
Ski 🙏: shes not pregnant
Ski 🙏: but i need cash from u cos my guy don't do shit for free
me: thank fucking god. how much he need?
Ski 🙏: $200
me: Ski, vro. U know my ass is broke..
me: can't afford that shit man
Ski 🙏: ik ik but hes saying if u dont pay him he
will frame u for the hack. he knows how to
Two hundred fucking dollars. Where the fuck am I gonna get cash like that?
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
me: do u think i could pay u back?
Ski 🙏: Jah man u know i cant keep doing u these favours...
me: i know man. i just gotta get this off my chest
Ski 🙏: ight but u owe me one.
me: $200 yea
Sighing, I toss my phone back in the passenger seat before gazing at the road again. I grip the wheel tightly, hoping it can help me release some anger.
The truth is, Arya is still torturing me in my dreams.
By the time I get home, the sky has turned an orange-pink colour and the humid breeze starts to sweep the streets of Broward County. I try to unlock the door silently, but my mom has heard me come in anyway. She's kneeling down next to the coffee table, wiping dust from the surface of it.
"Hey, what took you so long?" she says, brushing her sleeve against her forehead.
"Went for a drive," I reply, leaving the car keys on the couch.
"How was school?" she asks, spraying the table with some product. I dump my bag on the floor, grabbing a set of latex gloves from the floor.
"It was fine," I exhale, kneeling down beside her as I start to clean the table. "Why's the table sticky?"
"Aiden spilled chocolate milk again," my mom rolls her eyes, giving it a final wipe. We rise from the ground, glancing at each other for a few seconds.
"Why are you staring at me?" I chuckle.
"I still can't believe you're back home," she beams, suddenly enveloping me into a hug. I can't help but smile back at her, but the joy of being in her arms dissipates the second I meet her worried expression. "Jah, I need to be honest with you."
"What is it?" I ask as I help her pack away the cleaning equipment.
"We're in need for money. I'm not saying you should drop out of school, because that is completely unacceptable."
"What are you saying, mom?"
"I've... I've met a man," she starts. Oh, God. I really fucking hope she's not gonna tell me... "It's the only way I can get you out of school and into college," she continues, but my throat has closed up.
"MOM?!" I yell, failing to conceal my disappointment.
"It's just for a couple of months. I'll pay it back to him as soon as possible."
"Wait, what?"
"I met a stockbroker at work. He said if I could babysit his children while he's away, he'll pay for our rent," she explains.
"Oh, thank God." I can't help but chuckle at my mom's words. My mom's brows furrow.
"Jahseh, did you think I turned into a hooker?!" she exclaims, a mix of disappointment and surprise in her tone. I can't help but laugh at the situation, because I was already fearing the worst.
"Lowkey," I reply in between laughter.
"If I weren't so happy about this man doing us a favour, I'd kick your ass right now!" she yells, crossing her arms. Her expression reads anger, but my laughs soften her disappointment.
My laughter continues to fill the air until my stomach begins to cramp, wondering when was the last time I laughed this hard. Usually, I'm numb. Detached. Nothing ever catches my attention and nothing ever surprises me.
"Jah, what are you two laughing about?" Aiden asks, running down the stairs. Craning my neck to look at him, I notice he's in his Spiderman pyjamas already.
"Nothing, lil man. Just some mild adult humour," I chuckle, clearing my throat. My mom is cracking a smile from my childish sense of humour, but her expression returns stern when she gets up from the couch.
"What do you guys want for dinner?" she asks, her tone serious. Just like that, she's gone back to being a mother of two and not the woman who's interested in a new romance.
"Burgers!" Aiden chirps, following my mom to the kitchen. Chuckling to myself, I take out my phone from my pocket. How the fuck am I going to pay Ski back?
The sinking feeling of being a fuck-up returns to my chest. This feeling is too familiar for me. It hits me like waves crashing into a cliff. Tears spring to my eyes when I realise I keep feeling worse by the second.
"Mom! I'm going upstairs for a bit," I say, heading for the stairs. Maybe Ski is right — maybe I can go back to working on some songs for now. Maybe that will help me take the edge off.
"Okay! I'll let you know when dinner's ready," my mom shouts back. Within a few steps I reach my bedroom, where I lock myself before sprawling myself on the bed. The tears are uncontrollable now. What the fuck is happening to me?
It's like I suddenly feel everything, but why? Have I been keeping my thoughts to myself for too long?
I reach for my laptop before plugging my EarPods, trying desperately to even out my breaths. This hasn't happened in years. After glaring at the loading screen for a few minutes, I open up the pirated version of Logic Pro X.
The track that I've been working on for months opens, memories flooding back to me immediately. I hit play, the backtrack flowing through my earbuds. The snare on the track works perfectly in the background, along with the distorted 'ayy flow' that's quite big in Hip Hop right now.
I don't know how to explain it, but the beat makes sense.
The only fucking problem is the lyrics. For some reason, I can't wrap my head around it.
Tapping my fingers against the laptop, I play the backtrack again in hope I'll figure out the lyrics. Then it hits me — I haven't written lyrics since Vice City.
My mind wanders to those cold days in prison, a shiver running to my toes when I remember the last few hours in hell. I can't fucking believe Asshole had heard my song, let alone memorise the lyrics. The memory of him mocking my song flashes in front of my eyes, my blood boiling instantly.
"Look at me, I'm XXX-Ten-Tae-Shon and I got depression!" Asshole sang, making the whole kitchen explode with an outrageous wave of laughter.
His words taunt me like a living nightmare to the point where I swear I can hear it.
Anger. Rage. I gotta release all of that through music — that's my vice. Curling my fist around the pen in my hand, the backtrack continues to play over and over again, Asshole's voice droning inside my head.
I got it. That's it.
Licking my lips, I go back to the first half of the track, where the chorus is. I begin mumbling, the words suddenly coming to me.
"Look at me! Fuck on me, yah!"
Scribbling down the words on a notepad, I realise maybe Asshole is the best piece of inspiration I've got. I'm almost halfway through the first verse when my mom calls out my name.
xxx
Nora
I've spent the past two hours trying to reach my mom after her impromptu text. She hardly ever comes home with a complaint, but for some reason this afternoon was different. Her message read:
We need to talk.
Nothing else. Just that.
To distract myself and to kill the time, I decided to hit the mall with Kenzie, who seems keen on talking about Ski's party. She's been blabbing to me about some date she's going on on Friday, but I can't figure out with whom.
She checks herself in the mirror of the store, eyeing the tight fabric around her ass. She shifts her weight onto her other leg, spinning around to look at me.
"What do you think? Too clubby?" she asks, a pout on her lips. She chose this dress; it's made of mauve velvet, which she said was her favourite colour.
"Where's the date?" I ask, holding back a yawn. The truth is, all I want to do is head to the hospital and talk to my mom face to face. She's always fully-booked with surgeries this week, which means I may not be able to see her until 10 P.M.
"It's a lowkey dinner thing. But I wanna bring him back to mine," she explains, walking a few steps in some chunky black shoes.
"Go hard or go home," I chuckle. My eyes set on my screen when I notice an an incoming notification.
You got a new match! 😍😍😍
Although I kind of wish it was a text from my mom, I open the app and tap on my new matches. I reply to a few flirty messages before Kenzie's groans draw my attention.
"I don't wanna seem like I'm needy, though. You know?" Kenzie asks, still eyeing herself like a cockatiel.
"Mhm," I mumble, swiping left on a bunch of profiles.
"Imma go try out that mesh bodysuit. The one you picked," Kenzie says, tugging the next item from the coat-hanger.
"Okay," I reply, not really paying much attention. All I know is, with Kenzie talking about men all the time, it makes me want to fool around a little. There's dozens of super hot guys in the area, but they're mostly people I recognise from uni.
That's a no from me.
My finger stops swiping when I set my eyes on the profile of a familiar face. I furrow my brows, pursing my lips when I recognise him. It's X — who was literally in my room this morning trying to explain he was there in a non-creepy way.
"Nora? What do you think?"
"Huh?" I murmur, looking up from my screen. The mesh bodysuit accentuates her curves, a pair of ripped jeans complimenting her look.
"Please, babes. I picked you because I really need your opinion on this!" she moans, frustrated over the fact I keep looking at my phone.
"Why my opinion specifically?"
"Because! Ugh..." Kenzie hesitates, ruffling her hair in the mirror. "You know him."
"Who is this guy, anyway?" I ask, failing to keep my attention on her. The truth is, my eyes keep drifting to X's profile picture. He's shirtless, showing off his toned abs. There's a tattoo of the name 'Cleopatra' on his chest, as well as a few other tattoos on his body. I had only noticed his face tattoos before, but he seems to have a lot more.
His hair is different, though. It's not in dreads, nor half-blonde half-black.
"Stokeley," she replies, making me look up again. A lovestruck smile curves on her full lips.
"Who?"
"Ski, silly! Don't tell me you don't know his real name," she teases me.
"Oh," I say, somehow speechless from this revelation. I guess Ski never liked me in that way. "That's cool, man."
Kenzie's face turns into a bright smile, which only makes my stomach churn. I wish I got that giddy sensation before a date, but my desperado vibe hasn't gotten me anywhere near that.
"I really like this bodysuit. Imma go with it," Kenzie says before drawing the curtains of the dressing room.
"I'll wait at the till!" I call out, sluggishly getting up from the couch. Twisting my lips, I look at my lit-up screen again.
I swipe right.