Daddy's Home

He's A Bad Boy 3

All eyes on me.

Doesn't really relate to the imagine I just really fw this song.

Y/N ❣

I switched my seating position as I sat on the hard back seat of the Lyft.

"Damn, could ya stop, makin' me antsy." Odell complained bringing his head up from my shoulder.

"I'm sorry, this seat is really uncomfortable."

This was it. We were headed downtown to Odell's therapy session, and I was starting to think that me coming wasn't the best idea.

He pulled me into his lap.

Now I really know that me coming wasn't the best idea.

He stared at me twirling my braid around his finger and I tried my best to avoid his staring.

"Are you nervous?" I asked looking out of the window.

"Why ya always do dat'?"

"Huh?"

"Everytime I look atchu' or play witcha' hair, ya look away, like ya scared or some'n." He said tilting his head and playing with the gold caps.

"I dunno."

"Hmm," he hummed curiously loosening one of the gold caps, "I hate dese' don't wea' it no mo'."

I nodded.

-

"Why do you think you do drugs and drink, Mr. Beckham?" Dr. Frazier asked crossing his legs and writing down thing in his journal.

"Why do I know I do drugs?" He repeated. "I got pro'lems."

"A nigga might pop a Xan but i ain't got no pro'lem."

"What problems?"

"When ya stop writin' I'a tell ya." Odell mumbled.

He put the journal and pen on the coffee table and nodded for Odell to go on.

"My moms abandoned me when I was two, I was livin' wit' ma' grandma dahn' hea' in Atlanta, ma' moms went back ta' New Aw'lins and left me hea' ta rot. She came back a few years lata'," he stroked his goatee thoughtfully, "She took me back wit ha dats tha night grandma and ha got inta dat bad argument, neighbors called tha cops and err'thang, honest ta God, I wanted ta stay wit' my grandma."

Dr. Frazier nodded telling him to go on.

I looked at him unable to speak.

"We rode tha train all tha' way ta Nola, we was livin' in a rat infested apartment, same night I met ma pops, he wasn't shit, but a crack feen, beat up on moms err'night den snort right in tha open, right in front of ya son."

That's why. That's why he hardly ever smiles. That's why he's such an ass hole. That's why he smokes, drinks and pops pills. That's why he's so antisocial. That's why he's so into football, practice practice practice. That's why I'm the only person to call him Delly instead of Odell. That's why I'm the only person that can touch his face and tease him. Because he doesn't let anyone in. Because his childhood made him hard. And I'm the opposite of hard. That's why?