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Miami D. Torrance
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Light brown eyes. Thick plump pink lips. The tattoos that covered the whole upper half of his body. His light caramel complexion. His deep rugged voice.
Miami didn't know what she was feeling. The whole time she was in his presence she felt the moisture between her legs.
"Get it together Mi." She would chant to herself as they rode together.
Everything about him seemed perfect... was perfect. Except that damn attitude. He was so damn rude but what was Miami kidding? The man had to be in his early twenties and plus he lived on the East.
"Where you live at?" He side-eyed her.
Miami felt the hair's on the back of her neck go up, something that only occurred when she was irritated. She knew damn well that he overheard her and Jamison's conversation.
She lived on the West, that was the whole reason why it was such an issue to get home.
"Over on the West." She spoke a little above a whisper.
Silence took over the car as she felt his eyes on her. She was so close to going off on him but before she could—he spoke....
"Oh hell no...You a Torrance?!"
Miami sucked her teeth and reached over turning on the radio. She tried her best to ignore his question. She felt the truck speed up a bit, and rolled her eyes at his dramatics. Words couldn't even express how tired she was of this East vs Westside bullshit.
"I should drop you off in the middle of the fuckin' street. Hell over on this side for? You tryna die?" His voice raised a bit.
"You're honestly asking too many questions nigga. Do you work for Common or something? What's the issue?" Miami rolled her neck.
