Living Short in Bel Air (Completed 2013)

Chapter 22: Fresh Prince of Louisiana

I spent a lot of my sleeping time doing this chapter so I hope this pays off with your votes and comments.  ;P

Chapter 22: Fresh Prince of Louisiana

“Okay, let me continue.” 

I lifted a hand, silencing Driz and Jeff.  “Here we go.”  Clearing my throat, the two sidled on the floor, waiting patiently with the scattered and crumpled papers. 

“Thank you for giving me this beautiful award.  I just wanted to say thanks to my best friend Driz, my dipshit friend Jeff, Friday, my mom, my aunt, my dead dog, pet Goldy; I’m dearly sorry for flushing you down at such an early age, my grandma, the person who invented bacon, and the economy!”

Driz rolled her eyes.  “It’s academy.  Academy.”

I pumped my fist.  “And the academy!” 

Jeff rested his chin on his propped arms.  “It’s funny how you mention your dog before your own mother.” 

“No offense, Jeff, but that speech sucked,” said Driz. 

I tossed the cards across the ground and laid on the carpet floor beside them.  It was late, and Jeff decided to do a movie night and another work period.  This time, we were all prepared, each bringing a speech for me to try. 

He threw her a sheepish smile. “I wasn’t the one to ace English, alright?” 

Driz shook her head.  “Whatever.”  She glanced over.  “So what did you come up with, Ly-a?” 

“This one was kind of last minute, but I thought I’d bring some humour to the speech.”  I took my cue cards.  “You ready?”  They nodded.  “Here we go.”  I looked up and smiled.  “Insert—funny joke here.” 

Driz blinked.  Jeff coughed. 

I slapped my leg.  “C’mon, guys!  You got to admit”—I nudged Driz’s shoulder—“it was pretty good.”

Jeff spoke in a dry tone.  “If by pretty, you really mean incredibly ugly.  And by good, you really mean terribly sucks ass—then yes.  It was pretty good.”

It was unbelievable how I ever had a crush on that guy.

My hands flagged up.  “My brain was empty!  Don’t blame me!” 

We already happened to try Driz’s speech, but Jeff had fallen asleep half way, and I was playing Angry Birds so that one was out of the question.

“Can we just take a break?” complained Jeff. 

I bolted on my feet.  “Yes!  Movie time!” 

Around seven or eight, the door bell rang.  “I’m not getting it!” I shouted, particularly for Ruby.  Popping the Meet the Fockers DVD in, I heard squealing and laughter.  I tossed Driz a Coke from the mini fridge, knowing her movie habits like the back of my hand.