Sleeping With The Homie

18

When we arrive at Andretti's, the first thing Lashawn and I go do is shoot hoops. Once the game tells us to start, I chuck the ball and make the shot. I get a new ball and release it just as fast, making it as well since I'm a natural long range shooter. On the other hand, Lashawn takes his time to release each ball since he is more of a dunker/close range shooter, but he's making them though.

"Yuhhhh," He hypes his own head up, "It never gave Ben Simmons."

"Bye Shawn." I shake my head with a laugh.

"Nah, nah, admit it. You was just talking that shit earlier." Lashawn reminds me.

"You're a Giannis or whateva." I respond.

"Yuhhh-" In amidst of hyping himself up, he misses the shot.

"A Giannis forreal." I double down.

"Shut the fuck up." Lashawn hisses but snickers a second later.

Our competition grows less serious as we start attempting all types of shots from one-handed to double-handed to just throwing it football style.

"How?" He questions.

"What?" I question back.

"How are you still making those?" Lashawn asks in disbelief.

"I'm him. Himmy Hendrix. Himmy Neutron if you will." I reply as I throw my last ball and hit nothing but net, securing my win. Afterwards, I face Lashawn with a smirk.

"Or you made the same deal that Steph Curry did with the devil." He squints with accusation, "I'm onto you."

My face falls into a blank expression. "Lashawn, get the fuck-" I start.

"Come clean. I'll still accept you with your voodoo and all." Lashawn continues.

"See now I'm going to get the fuck on." I reply, turning away from him.

I start walking away while laughing at the absurdity of me doing voodoo to get my shooting ability. Lashawn runs up to my side, laughing as well. "So what we finna do next?" He questions.

"You wanna do that lil dancing game?" I ask.

"You not ready for these moves like Jagger." Lashawn suddenly stops and hits a pelvic thrust.

I stop to shake my head at him, "Nigga, those are moves like Jackson."

"Hop off my - actually, I like it when you're on my dick-"

"Oh my God." I mutter.

"Anyways," Lashawn brings himself back on track, "Just know, I got the moves."

"Whatever you say, Lashawn Tristan Pierce." I agree reluctantly.

We finally get over to the dancing station. Lashawn swipes his card. He swipes through each song until landing on some Spanish song. Selecting it, he immediately then selects the hard difficulty.

"Now why would you do that?" I ask while getting in position.

"What? You don't got the moves like Jackson?" Lashawn challenges, getting himself ready as well.

"I don't," I admit, "And you don't either."

"We'll see about that." Lashawn smirks before facing the screen.

The song starts playing. Lashawn and I follow the arrows. The arrows turn green when you're on beat, yellow when you barely met the beat, and red when you missed it. We're getting straight green arrows so far.

The song speeds up and the beat suddenly drops. While I'm trying my best to keep up with the arrows, I notice that Lashawn is getting straight red arrows. Frowning with confusion, I look over to see what Lashawn is doing.