She places her head on the desk, her head pounding. They had another fight a couple days ago, of course. It was like that all the time. They fight, break up, then make up. It was the same thing all the time. She knew the next day, he would call her up, apologize and beg to come see her. She's tried to resist, to break it off for good, but it never works.
He'd come to her house, making her mother open the door and greet him with a smile. He'd ask to come in and she'd let him, being the sweet, supportive mother she is. He'd come up to her room, open her door and take her in his arms, kissing her sweetly with his soft lips. She could never get enough of those lips. Those lips helped her get through the day.
Being with him was the best in her mind. He'd always make time for her, even telling his friends that he has to leave and be with her. She knew he loved her. Even if he got frustrated with her at times, starting arguments with her. She knew that she meant a lot to him. If she didn't why did he fight so much for her.
But given all of these facts about him, why has it been so long for him to apologize? She knew she was wrong, claiming he spent more time with his friends than her, which was true in this case. This whole month he would always leave her, saying that he had told his friends that'd they'd hang out. Even when they'd plan things out. Those sweet little times where he'd come through for a cuddle/make out session would be cut short from a couple hours to thirty minutes.
She knew she was wrong when his voice started to get louder, claiming that she was trying to separate him from his friends. He thought that she wanted him to cut everyone off, and she didn't. That was a lie. She would never want that. She was cool with all of his friends, even the girls. That's not saying that she didn't want him to be alone with said girls, but as long as he didn't break her heart, she was cool.
She sighs, wanting to sink into the ground, or pound her head into the desk. She feels tears prickle her eyes and she sniffs. She didn't want to fight, she never wanted to fight with him. She looks at her phone, sitting up and picking it up. She'd call him. He would answer. No matter what the time, he would always answer. The same went for him when he called her. She would always answer.
She wouldn't throw away their one year long relationship, and she knew he wouldn't either.
She scrolls through her contacts until she reached his titled 'Bae' with plenty heart eye and kissy emoji's. The contact picture of them kissing brought a smile to her face and she pressed the call button. She glanced at her clock. It was only ten, he would be awake.
She guessed she was wrong when it rung five times before going to voicemail. She was surprised. Should she leave a message?
"Uhm, Des, call me back when you get this, ok babe?" She asks, still shocked before hanging up. That never happened to her. Was he asleep? Why didn't he answer her call?
With a sigh she got up, placed her iPhone on the charger, turned off her light and got into bed. So much for a long conversation with him, like they usually did. She didn't know why she was so worried. She'd see him tomorrow at school and everything would be fine. They'd make up like how she wanted, and everything would be cool.
Again, she was wrong. When she woke up; got dressed in some black high waisted suspender skinny jeans, a green velvet off the shoulder crop top and a pair of suede black Timberlands. Her typical style. Her brown hair (with caramel highlights) was in a messy bun. In her opinion, she looked great.
She wanted to look great, even if it was something she'd usually wear. She wanted to look good for her boyfriend. She wanted him to see her at her best, as always.
She pulled up into the school parking lot in her 2012 black Ford Focus. Once she got out, she inhaled and exhaled, ready to walk into the cafeteria where he boyfriend and his friends usually loitered.
She walked out of the car, running a hand through her hair. She grabbed her bag out of the back seat and locked the doors, sighing. She jumped, startled as she met eyes with her best friend. "Oh, Riley. You scared the shit outta me." She says, placing a hand on her chest.
"You look nice." He says, giving her a smirk. She shakes her head and they walk together.
"Where's Desmond?" She asks, looking up at him. Where she was a good height of 5'5", Riley was 6'2", and her boyfriend an inch shorter.
"He said he wasn't coming today." He says, his tone changing slightly. Riley had known Desmond before she did, and was the reason why her and Desmond got together in the first place. "Mari, I need to tell you some shit about that nigga." He says, the two still walking.
She frowns, walking into the cafeteria. "What?"
"He's been-" He was cut off my the calls from her friends. She looks at them, smiling and waving at their greeting. The girls walk over, talking to her.
"Riley, I'll catch you later." She says, looking at him. "I'll see you after school ok?" She says, and he crosses his arms, rolling his eyes, but waving anyway. Her friends have great timing. He turned around, going the opposite way.
When he gets his hands on Desmond, again, he was gonna beat his ass. Again. But worse this time. The first time he found that nigga bragging about some ass he got from some chick that wasn't Marisol, there were niggas holding him back, keeping him from stomping his face in. But the next time, there wasn't anyone who would hold him back.
There was no way he was letting that fuck boy hurt his Marisol. It was a surprise that the two were even going out, and for so long. Everyone knew that he had some type of feeling for her. Except for her.
Riley huffs, looking down at his brown waterproof Timbs. Him and Marisol were known for their love of Timbs. He was the originator for the love, passing it on to her, and Marisol often dragging him to the mall to buy some and clothes and the like.
The amount of time the two spent together almost rivaled the amount of time she spent with her boyfriend. Almost. It sickened him how in love she was with that nigga… and not him.
He had been feeling her ever since they became friends. He thought he was getting somewhere when he finally asked her to Homecoming, but eventually got curved. They almost kissed and everything! But, it was whatever. He didn't stop trying. He wasn't gonna stop. He toned it down a bit when she got with Desmond, and was happy. Cuz, who didn't want to see the one they loved happy?
Yeah, I know what you're thinking. Young Reezy? In love? Say it ain't so! But, he finally came to terms with it. He loved that silly little Dominican chick, which was cool. If she wasn't so dense.
"Yo!" Someone calls out, snapping him back to reality. He looked around. He found himself walking away from the school, probably to his little spot. See they have this chill ass place at the park near the school, where the trail stops. It's surrounded by bushes and it was a place he went when he ditched school.
He would often be found there, smoking weed or drawing. Or both. He turned around, making eye contact with a blue eyed, blonde haired white girl. Cindy McPhearsome. "Whatup Cin." He says, stopping and waiting for her to catch up.
"Where you going nigga?" She asks, walking to his side. The two start walking in the same direction he was going.
"I was finna smoke in my little spot." He says, running a hand through his short hair. He had cut his hair years ago, leaving him with a boxy afro that was faded and tapered at the side. He gets his shit professionally done.
"Yo little spot?" She asks, and he nods, not saying anything else. They walk in silence, his mind going back to Marisol and her mind going on him.
Cindy had a little crush on Young Reezy. She couldn't help it. He was everything she wanted. He was good looking, book smart and street smart, clean, smoked, and had a good way with words. How could a seventeen year old girl not like him? They would be stupid to not like him.
Yes, she was throwing shots at Marisol. She disliked her. Not only because she held Riley's heart in the palm of her hand but because that stupid bitch didn't even notice it! Like that shit just didn't make sense to Cindy. If she was in Marisol's place, Riley would have been well loved and well fucked.
Their whole situation was just stupid to her. Marisol would rather go out with a nigga everyone knew was unfaithful. Why was that always the case with that girl? She was too wrapped up in her little fantasy Desmond painted for her to see the shit that everyone knew.
She follows Riley as he walked through some bushes then sits down on a bench. "This is my little spot." He says, and she looks around. The grass was green and lush with small wildflowers. There was a lone bench on one side and the rest was grass until a bush cut it off.
"Does anyone else know about this?" Cindy asks in awe, looking around at the secluded spot.
"Nah. I wanna tell Mari tho." He says, a small smile on his face as he thought about it. Cindy's expression turns sour and she looked away from Riley. That was all he thought about.
"Why? She got a nigga." Cindy says, composing herself and looking back at Riley. It was his turn to scowl at the words.
He didn't need to be reminded of that shit. He hated Desmond, and now he had an even better reason to dislike him. He swore on his Grandad's life that he was gonna get that nigga for what he was doing to his girl.
His girl. The words sounded so nice when they meant Marisol. His scowl disappears and he answers Cindy with a shrug. "She's my best homie. Gotta show her this pretty ass shit. She'd be like," He clears his voice, making it higher in pitch to imitate Marisol's voice. "'Oh, Riley! This is so pretty! I love it.'" He says, chuckling. Cindy chuckles with him, but it was fake.
"So I'm the first person you showed?" She asks, a hopeful look in her eyes. Riley nods, sitting down on the bench and taking his backpack off. He opens the small pouch in the Jansport backpack, pulling out a pulling out a tin altoids container. He opens it, pulling out a small baggie of weed and reaches back into the pouch, pulling out some rolling papers. He also pulls out a weed grinder.
"You bring a lot of shit wit you." Cindy says as he hand grinds the weed. "You not scared of getting searched?"
"They don't fuck wit me like that." Riley says, shrugging. "I'm cool wit all the security and shit." He carefully some weed in the rolling paper and rolls it.
"Wait, you didn't have seed or stems in your weed." She says, and he looks up at her, his fingers still working to roll the blunt.
"I smoke mosty dro and heads." He says, a small yet smug smirk on his face. "Unlike the niggas you be fucking wit."
"Whatchu mean?!" She asks loudly, crossing her arms.
"Jamil and David smoke mostly reggie. Which is why I don't fuck wit them or their dealer." He says, making her face turn red. He brings the blut to his lips, licking it close. "Besides, I gotta have the best for when Ma- uh my niggas wanna smoke with me." He says, shaking his head.
He promised to keep Marisol's illegal activities on lock, cuz she said if word get around to Desmond, he'd throw a fit. Which was stupid to him. Desmond didn't like girls who smoked. But Riley, he adored them, especially when their name was Marisol.
Did I get the whole Riley loves Marisol shit across? Yeah? Alright cool.
Cindy, none the wiser, didn't pay any mind to Riley's little blunder. "Alright whatever nigga." She says, still embarrassed. How did Riley see her when he found out she smoked a little reggie once or twice?
"Don't worry. We all gotta start somewhere." He says, lifting the blunt to his lips and lighting it. She watches as he takes a puff, blowing the smoke out and giving her a smirk. "I used to smoke reggie."
She looks at him, trying her hardest not to stare as she commits his facial expression to her memory. He was so fine.
He holds the blunt out to her, and she takes it, sitting down next to them. The two smoke the blunt in silence until it was finished.
"We should go." Riley says, stretching his arms. Cindy giggles a bit, totally gone. He look at her, shaking his head. "Damn, how you gonna hide this shit from your teachers?" He asks her, looking into her eyes. She looked like she was high. He frowns a bit, digging in his backpack again. He pulls out some eyedrops with a smirk and hands them to her.
She looks at them and slowly opens them. "In my eyes right?" She asks, and he nods, closing his eyes at the question. She tilts her head back and drops the liquid in her eye, wincing at the slight burning. "Alright." She says, and he holds his hand out for them.
She hands them to him, slightly leaning forward. He looks at her. "We gotta go to school." He says, and she pouts.
"Reezy, I wanna stay." She says, grabbing his hand as he got up. He uses her grip to pull her up and making her stand.
"You can't stay here all day." He says, and feels his stomach grumbling. "Besides, I'm hungry." He says and starts walking, letting go of Cindy. She watches a bit before grabbing her bag and following, catching up to him. She reaches him and touches his hand, trying to grab it.
"Whatcu doing?" He asks, pulling his hand away slightly.
"Reezy, we are gonna be together, kay?"
"As friends." He says, and she giggles. She was hella gone.
"Noooo." She says, grabbing his hand and stopping him. He looks at her, an eyebrow raised, an expression made popular by his older brother. "We are together" She says, leaning forward and going on her tippy toes, trying to kiss him. But her balance was off and she tipped over, making his hands to secure her rocking.
"Chill out, ok? We not like that, Cin." He says, steadying her. He lets go of her and continues on his way. Cindy was pretty, but she was no Marisol. Y'all get it though right?
I bet it's annoying to hear about how much he liked her, but I gotta tell you how much he thinks about her. Which is a lot. Cuz like I said, he likes her.
"Why aren't we like that Reezy? Is it because of that Marisol bitch?" She asks, making him frown in anger. Marisol wasn't a bitch. But he didn't turn around to say that. He didn't want to talk or answer no questions. "She'd rather be with that nigga Desmond! She don't want you!"
He clenches his fists at his side, anger building up in him. He turns around, his reddish brown eyes meeting her blue ones. "Just like how I don't want you right?" He coldly asks, stopping her. He knew he shouldn't have said nothing. "Yeah, that's what I thought." He says, turning back around. He didn't understand why he spoke sometimes, but he wasn't gonna let that shit fly.
He knew Marisol wasn't feeling him like that. He didn't need negative shit like that in his mind. As long as she was happy. Well, now she needed to be away from that nigga Desmond and with someone else who could make her happy. Hopefully him. Desmond didn't deserve her at all. He didn't know how to treat her right.
He couldn't treat her like Riley would. If she was his, things would be super different.