Ziyah's POV
As usual I'm the first person to wake up and get ready in my household leaving me sitting by the kitchen island drawing the last touches on Sofia's portrait. Next to Daya's it's probably my best work, but that doesn't really mean shit. As if she knows I just finished her drawing Sofia waltzes in in her Christmas pajamas with her thumb in her mouth while holding that raggedy blanket I could've sworn Angela threw in the trash.
"Good Morning Zi Zi," she says and struggles to hop into the seat next to me. When she manages to sit down her face lights up at my sketchbook predicting she's about to use her voice that's too loud for the morning.
"You finished it! It looks just like me, you're like, you're like," she searches for the right word. "Peebo Percuso," she says, and it takes me a moment before I have to hold back my laughter.
"You mean Pablo Picasso?"
She scrunches her face up, and shakes her head. "No his name is pronounced Peebo Percuso, it's French," she says like I didn't spent two years learning the language.
"If you say so," is all I respond with. Peebo Percuso or Pablo Picasso it's still an over exaggerated compliment which Sofia is full of. I finish signing my name in the corner of the portrait, and Sofia's eyes are boring into me as she smiles. I've done this too many times. "Lucky Charms or toast with jam?" I ask.
"Lucky Charms please, and don't skimp on the milk," she concludes as I'm already out of my seat getting the box off the top of the fridge. I don't "skimp on the milk," or the lucky charms because she and Angela are the only ones who eat this sugary shit. Me I'm more of a bagel nigga with scrambled eggs here and there. Angela would probably be this way to if she knew how to put oil on a skillet.
"Thank you Zi Zi," Sofia says. As I hand her the bowl the sound of the front door opening throws me off, and a bit of extra milk spills right in the middle of my pants. Damn.
Sofia of course smiles from cheek to cheek at this while she retreives her bowl making me just sit down, and shake my head. Assuring my beliefs that Angela doesn't know how to tell time, she struts through the front door happy as ever, and into the kitchen to immediately see the stain.
She scrunches up her face, "Eww Zi."
"Haha very funny it's milk you can chill," I say as Angela walks over to Sofia to place a kiss on her cheek.
"Go watch my little pony," Angela whispers and Sofia practically leaves dust behind when she heads into the living room. Angela on the other hand gets rid of her scrunched up face and goes back to her big smile while sitting in the seat across from me.
I don't spend a lot of time looking at Angela, but as my eyes scan her now she looks happy. Too happy for a 23 year old mother living in her mom's house. I can see it in the extra weight in her face, the bright yellow ensemble she's flaunting, and the overall aura about her that's currently lighting up the semi lit room.
"What's going on with you," I ask.
"Me?Oh nothing I'm just moving out," she says too easily for me to actually catch the words I've been waiting to hear for 4 years.
"Wait for real?" She nods and a good portion of her happiness transfers over to me.
"Yup the apartment is already in my name, and it's furnished." She flashes a picture on her phone, and the place doesn't look too bad.
I love Angela and Sofia, but my mom has gained too many stress lines with Angela's constant request,and honestly she's been the star of the Daniels household for quite some time. Plus Angela's been an adult for 5 years it's time for her to do her own laundry, and that's coming from someone who does that. "Where is the apartment?"
"3 bedroom not too far from here." And the happiness I had goes away just like that.
"Last time I checked you and Sofia were 2 people, are you moving in with him?" Angela shakes her head, and her smile becomes more devious telling me a request is about to fly right out of her mouth.
"Well I was sort of thinking the third bedroom would be for you." The fuck?
"Uhh I got a place Ang." Which I thought was pretty obvious.
"Yea but come on Ziyah you're so good with Sofia, and you're 17 you're going to be out of here in a year."
I sit back and cross my arms. "How do you know I'm not going to extend my lease for five years?" Angela rolls her eyes all the way to the back of her head.
"Because I don't think you're planning on getting Daya pregnant." Damn she knows how to stop a conversation.
"Well mom's not going to go for it, and how are you even paying for this 3 bedroom anyway? I know it's not that photography job." Angela and I battle looks for some seconds, yeah I know how to get her to shut up too.
"I'm getting some help," is all Angela says while fiddling with her fingers.
"Hmm some help, ok," I say. "Some help," basically means this place won't be 100% her place.
"Ziyah all I'm saying is think about it. Doesn't this house hold too many bad memories anyway?" Angela doesn't let me respond and heads into the living room with the same strut.
"Ooh fluttershy is my favorite," I hear her say along with the sound of the My LIttle Pony theme song.
I've been in this house all my life, and it doesn't take long for the bad memories to come rushing back. This is the house where my mom begged my dad to stay, where she cried on the bathroom floor, where Bree snorted too much coke, and where I constantly wonder what insults id say to the guy who left if he walked in this house again. I would love to erase those things from my memory, but this house is also the place where Sofia had her first steps, where my mom sewed Bree's homecoming dresses, and where my soon to be girlfriend got to meet the strongest women in my life. This place ain't that bad, Angela's going to have to do a little more convincing to get me out of here.
The rest of the day I'm bored, and uninspired as fuck leaving me to text the one person I want to talk to. Daya.
After one quick conversation with my mom and some texts with Daya, Daya somehow convinced her dad to let me take her out for lunch, and as I glide down the streets of Los Angeles in Bree's Jeep she can't use I couldn't be more relived. I arrive outside of Harper's big house where Daya is staying and text her I'm here because I have no intention in coming in contact with any of the Falims.
Even coming out of a big extremely detailed house Daya is the one thing I look at with her passion twists in a ponytail, glowing dark skin, and her white sneakers finally the shade of white. While I'm still taken a back that she was mine at some point I notice she's just wearing her oversized Fugees shirt, and there's no sign of her usual boyfriend jeans. I probably sound like one of those ignorant niggas who doesn't follow the latest trends, but where the fuck are her pants? She looks good as usual, but I never expected Daya to step out of her box and dress like the other girls. I also thought she was like me in the sense I only where pants and never shorts.
"I missed you," she says and we exchange a tight hug. I want to kiss her, but we're not there yet.
"It hasn't been that long," I say even though I missed her presence probably more than she missed me. Especially since most of that time was spent repairing my fuck up with Ella. We get in the car and before I can start the engine my eyes drift to Daya and her legs. I've never been slick, and she of course catches my glance. We must be doing that telepathic shit because she knows exactly what my look means.
She lifts up her shirt a little to reveal some gray shorts that I've seen Bree wear. "Biker shorts, Harper took me shopping for summer clothes," she says in her soft unsure tone.
"Cool," is all I say and as I begin driving I see Daya fidgeting with her fingers, a sign of her insecurity. I don't want to outright tell her I think she looks fucking hot, or say the wrong thing so instead I place my non driving hand on her lower thigh and to my surprise she doesn't do that budge or shiver thing.
We get to Panera Bread, and Daya puts me on to this bomb sandwich and soup. My attention ain't even on the soup though because Daya's smile is all I'm focused on. We're talking about how Lucas is thinking about dying his dreads again, when Daya's face goes completely blank.
"I'm sure he's not going to dye it blue, and stay with the slightly burnt cornrow dreads," I say trying to read her expression that her brown eyes are highlighting.
"Your sisters here," she says more like a question as her eyes go past me. I turn around and low and behold there is Angela tucked away in a booth similar to ours chatting away with someone I can only identify as a white male. It takes a second, but the guy runs his hand through his brown hair letting me know Angela is sitting with Henry Claiborne also known as Sofia's dad who Sofia hasn't seen in some time because "college is hectic." Why Angela is sitting with him laughing when he doesn't know Sofia is saying stuff like Peebo Percuso makes me sick.
"Hey what's wrong?" Daya says and knowing how her touch has an effect on me she holds my hand. I turn back to the beautiful girl in front of me, and I want to hide all of my thoughts, but I can't when her eyes are looking at me in that way.
"That's Sofia's dad, he barely spends time with her because law school is tough and shit." I shrug as Daya's eyes fill with optimism.
"Well maybe Angela is trying to get him to spend more time with her," she says. I turn back to look at Angela and Henry.
"Daya, does that look like she's telling him to get his shit together," I say. Daya shakes her head a little, and I stare at my pants as her eyes lose some light. I take one more look at Angela and making this whole thing worse her and Henry get up to share a flat out kiss. I want to throw something at them, but for once I decide to be rational, and tell Daya all of the shit I'm thinking. I tell her how Sofia thinks her dad's fulfilling some important mission, how Henry thinks a check makes up nights when Sofia has bad dreams, and how I'm afraid Sofia is going to end up like me dadless and confused. Daya listens to every one of my words, and I know she doesn't get it, but she's there for me, and is sure as hell making a nigga all soft.
After dropping Daya off some minutes before her dad instructed me too I get home to Sofia and my mom who are having chicken and rice. As usual I'm the last one to finish eating leaving me alone in the dining room. My eyes are ready to doze off, but the sound of an asshole in an expensive car wakes me up. The loud ass car I've been waiting to see stops in front of the house, and Angela happily hops out right after giving the owner of the car Henry Claiborne a big old kiss. Like there's nothing wrong she flaunts into the kitchen with her annoying smile and grabs a water bottle out of the fridge. She does this all while I scold the fuck out of her, and it takes her three sips to notice.
"What's wrong with you?" I ask.
"You." Her smile still remains and it's getting more and more annoying.
"Umm sorry if you wanted this water bottle you should've said so," she says going to back to the same seat she sat in this morning.
"I'm not talking about the water bottle, I'm talking about you fucking with a guy who can't see his own child." Finally her smile drops.
"Mind your business," she says locking eyes with me.
"If I minded my business who would take care of Sofia."
"Ziyah I'm a grown up, I've been a grown up for 5 years I can be with who I want." But you've been a selfish girl your whole life.
"A grown up would make Henry see Sofia."
"I can't make Henry do anything."
"You can make him take you out to lunch." Confusion comes over her, and she can't come up with anything to say so I continue. "You've been doing this whole barely his boyfriend thing for 5 years it was fine when Sofia was a baby, but she's getting old now, and she knows he's not there."
Stopping Angela's response footsteps make us both turn to see mom in her matching robe and headscarf with bags under her eyes. "What are you two talking about this late?" She asks and her hand falls onto her hip. Shit.
"Ziyah won't mind his business and is spying on me," Angela announces. I want to say, "I'm sorry I'm not fine with Sofia not having a relationship with her father," but I'm Ziyah, I'm chill, and I know shits not going to change so I settle for a "whatever," and go to my room.