My works #14 //.
Set in Los Angeles of the early 2000's, Adonte Jackson - an average junior high schooler is figuring out his own path in life while pursuing the passion of boxing and balancing school with everyday events. Being on the cretin recor...
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❝In The Act❞ ____ 14
Adonte's eyes were puffy and reddish as he kept his hoodie on his head and his hands in the pockets of the jacket. "What's u-" J.T trailed off as Adonte kept waking, passing his group of friends as he entered the classroom of the French class. J.T turned back to the guys as Marcus shook his head.
"His grandpa got shot the other night. It was all on the news." Marcus informed sadly, explaining his weird behavior. They all shook their head as Kain shrugged and turned back to them with his hand extended.
"Pay up hoes."
Marcus screwed up his face and looked Kain up then down. He scoffed. "What are you talking about? 'Cause I know you didn't win that bet."
Kain pointed in his face and side smiled. "But see, I did!"
"With who?" J.T folded her arms and tilted her head to the side, looking at him. He leaned against the doorpost of the classroom's door. He rubbed over his chin and looked off to the side.
"Stacey." J.T burst into laughter, throwing her head back as she held her stomach. She felt tears brewing in her eyes as she kept laughing. "Whew!" She yelled.
Kain looked at her unamused and stood up straight as he said, "I'm serious."
"I shol' haven't seen her today." Marcus stated, starting to buy what Kain was saying. He extended his hand outward again and they blew out breaths, smacking $25 in his hands each. He smiled.
"Thank you for your business."
"That's crazy. She must've been out of her mind." Kain side glanced at Marcus from his statement but shoved the money in his back pocket. "You should get the other twenty five from Don after all this blow over with ..y'know."
Kain nodded in agreement as they looked back at their friend, Adonte while he laid against his folded arms. The bell rung and the friends separated off to their assigned seats. Adonte sniffled and wiped his face with the back of his jacket's sleeve and sat up before the teacher could say anything to him.
The French teacher's heels clacked against the tile floor as she came in. One of the boys in the class whistled as she leaned over her desk to set down her stack of papers. "Soir."
"Hola mamacita." The same boy purred, winking in her direction. Some in the class laughed as she intertwined her fingers together and leaned her hands against the front of her body. She looked at him. "One, that is Spanish and two, quit flirting with me little boy before it affect your grade."
