BRITISH MAHOGANY RACER. CHICAGO, IL SEPTEMBER 2019.
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British looked at the interaction between Harlem and Dayvon, her protective instincts kicked in as she walked around the tables full of children to where Harlem and Dayvon were, pulling Harlem back a little, she didn't play about Harlem and strangers. "Harlem, what I tell you about talkin' to strangers?" She bent down preaching to her now eight year old brother.
"But Dayvon isn't a stranger Brit," he shrugged, "I know him,"
"Right lil folks, chill out," British trailed her eyes up mugging Dayvon who was looking at her with a soft smile as he turned the fitted cap on his head backwards, "he know me, we good."
"How you know my lil brother?" British stood up folding her arms looking every bit of unimpressed.
"Damn, mufuckas can't get no hey ah nun?" He asked folding his arms, standing wide legged mocking British' stance.
"You at a kids party, watch yo language," British rolled her eyes at him, looking at him in distaste.
"Von, what did you bring me?" Harlem asked excitedly, Harlem didn't play about his birthday. He wanted all toys, gifts, games, and money.
"Ian even get you no toy gang," Von spoke softly making Harlem frown as he dug in his pocket, "I got you sumn' even betta...I boughtchu' Benjamin," he pulled out a crispy hundred giving it to Harlem who smiled, "that's da only friend you need, gangsta."
"Thank you!" He hugged him before running off.
"Harlem, make sure you put that money up!" British called after him.
"Damn British, what you got against my boy gang?" Zoo asked her furrowing his brows. British only knew Zoo real name Bishop because they went to the same high school , Bishop was in her sisters grade level but they still spoke at games, in the halls and pep rally's of the sort.
"Cause yo friend and his big eyed ass friend right here, almost ran me the fuck over on 64th!" British rolled her eyes.
"Watch yo mouf' we at a kids party," Dayvon mocked her with a smile.
"Take a first class trip to hell and stop talkin' to me bro," British firmly stated not even looking at him.
"Damn what I do? I wasn't even driving! My bad." Durk mugged before turning around to get some cake.
"Yo ass prolly was walkin' slow n shit, and ion 'een stop fa pedestrians fa real," he shrugged, "but i'a say sorry if it make you feel betta."
"Like I said go to hell." British said monotonously.
"Yo name British? Like dem people ova seas n shit?" He asked again, knowing he was getting on her nerves but she was fine as hell and he was tryna get any response out of her at all.
