[Alyssa]
Dahlia and I, along with the help of Shiloh, finished breakfast at a quarter after ten, so now everyone is sitting at the dining room table, a plate and fresh squeezed glass of orange juice in front of them.
"You made homemade pancakes?" Chandler inquires, staring at the plate of pancakes in the center of the table. "What did you break, buy or do that you know I won't approve of?"
Dahlia kisses her teeth. "I do not only make pancakes when I'm in trouble, thank you very much," she retorts. "And to be completely honest, I didn't make these, Alyssa did."
Chandler takes at least three or four pancakes from the stack and places them on his plate. "Well, if they taste half as good as they look, then you got my blessing."
"Your blessing?" Dahlia and I repeat simultaneously.
"Yup," he answers, cutting into one and taking a bite of it. "Sorry, Santo, but you gonna have to find another girl. Alyssa is now my cook." Dahlia giggles as I blush.
"Oh, please, they probably aren't even all that good," Jazmyne snarls.
"Jaz!" Shiloh shouts, causing her to look over at him. "Why the fuck you gotta be so petty? I don't see yo big headed ass tryin' to make no fuckin' breakfast in the morning, shit." She glares at him. "Fuck all that glarin' shit. Speak ya mind." He mimics his brother by grabbing at least four pancakes from the stack and hastily dropping them on his plate.
"You know what, Shiloh, fuck you!" Jazmyne screams at him, pushing his head and getting up. "Stay your stupid ass over here since you want a bitch who cooks you breakfast!"
Dahlia leans over to me and whispers, "Did she just call me a bitch?" I shrug.
"Sit yo ass down, Jaz. You not goin' nowhere," Shiloh demands, cutting off one of his pancakes and eating it. "Damn, Alyssa, these are good."
"You helped me make them," I admit.
"The batter, yeah, but you the one who put them on the stove and cooked them," he counters. "Santo, you lucky, my nigga."
"If I wasn't pregnant with your child, Shiloh, I swear to you that I would up and leave you right now," Jazmyne threatens.
"Bullshit," Shiloh growls. "Yo ass wouldn't leave me, so you need to shut that threatenin' shit up before you find yo ass bent over one of them beds upstairs while takin' Papi's di-"
Chandler throws a biscuit at his brother. "Nigga shut that shit up! We tryin' to eat!"
"That's how she got in the-"
"Shiloh, shut up!" Dahlia interjects. "So, yeah, I've definitely lost my appetite." She pushes her plate away from her.
"A nigga wasn't lying, though," Shiloh shrugs.
"This is why y'all can't stay over my house now," Chresanto speaks up. I'd almost forgotten he was sitting beside me if it weren't for his arm resting ever so casually behind my head. "Y'all not about to be leaving stains on my shit imported from Spain." His sheets are imported from Spain?
"Y'all damn sure not going upstairs and doing nothing in my house," Chandler bites out, taking another bite of his pancakes.
"Oh, but it's cool for you and Dee to come over to my house and handle your business?" Shiloh retorts. "I heard y'all nasty asses that night."
"What can I say, baby bro, I get it in," Chandler boasts, popping his collar.
"Nigga, you only six minutes older than me, so shut the fuck up," Shiloh snaps, wrapping an arm around Jazmyne's shoulder. Jazmyne removes his arm, and Shiloh kisses his teeth. "Jaz, stop bullshittin', and let me be affectionate toward you, girl."
