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"𝐘𝐞𝐚. 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫, 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭, 𝐈 𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐬."
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"Hello, welcome to the voicemail box of... ayewassup it's Kori, please leave a message after the beep—"
Zamir hangs up, frowning. He had called Kori twice in a row now and he hasn't answered yet; that never happens. Even when Kori is sleeping, he'll usually wake up and answer the phone with his deep, drowsy morning voice.
"The fuck?" He asks himself.
Zamir yo are u alr? read at 7:16pm
Zamir oh so u ignoring me now? read at 7:17pm
Zamir bet. read at 7:17pm
JJ🧡 is typing...
JJ🧡 is typing...
JJ🧡 Cici had my phone sorry
Zamir so u lyin to a nigga now?
JJ🧡 I'm serious
Zamir answer my facetime, fr😑
Zamir calls again and this time, it's answered on the second ring. Kori's face fills the screen and he sees that the room around him is a bright red; he must have his LED lights on. He's lying on his bed, shirt off and all. He scoffs, "Cici ain't nowhere near you, nigga."
"Bro, I'm not lying," his voice goes high-pitched and that's exactly how Zamir knows he's doing the exact opposite of what he's saying. He's known this boy since the second grade, he knows all of his tells by now.
"JJ, stop playing wit me."
"Mir, can you just listen? She was using my phone to text her friends because mom—"
