Seeing Red [✓]

xx. sit down, be humble

Reece

"You wanna try calling Ashley again?" Dennis asked, as Kenzie came to another red light.

Kenzie briefly looked over at Dennis, rolling his eyes and then just focusing on the road in front of him, one hand on the wheel. "He ain't answer the third time, I don't think a fourth or fifth is gonna miraculously make the negro answer his phone."

"Maybe he's just getting ready," I said from the backseat. Dennis had said he'd sit in the back, but I'd rather literally make sweet love to a grenade than sit in the front seat in a car with Kenzie again.

"He does think he some pretty boy," Kenzie threw. "All he do is wastes everyone time in the morning singing and shit in the shower, listening to Rihanna."

"Don't be knocking Ri," Dennis barked. "That's the lil wifiey just in case this gay thing don't work out."

Kenzie threw him a side-eye. "Negro, Rihanna wouldn't touch yo dick with a pole taped to another long ass pole."

I saw Dennis shrugged. "You don't know."

"I do know," he replied. "Shit, she ain't answer none of my DMs on twitter with me politely asking to eat her ass."

"Define....... politely?" I blurted.

Kenzie looked back as the light turned green. "Salutations, Ms. Robyn Fenty, how are you doing on this mighty fine evening? I was wondering, if you had enough time out for your busy schedule, that you would indulge me for an hour or two so I could lick that ass up." He started driving. "And she just left a brother on read."

"The nerve," Dennis mumbled, dryly.

"I know!" Kenzie blasted back, either too high to not sense the sarcasm or just didn't care for it altogether.

"I hope Ashley is okay," Dennis muttered, staring out the window at the street lights as we zipped down the highway.

I was starting to worry about Ashley too. He seemed the type to answer his phone when you called. This dance seemed important to Dennis and I doubt he'd miss it purposefully.

I hadn't thought of going to the dance thing, but Kenzie told me to get in the car and that there was no time to drop me wherever I needed to go. So, here I sat. 

It smelled like weed and flaming hot Cheetos. Kenzie was shuffling through an endless mix of rap songs, from some guy named Future and another named Travis Scott. Honestly, they all just sounded like they were mumbling to me. Which I wasn't against, but he acted as though it was composed by Beethoven.

"Do you got broads in Atlanta?" Kenzie asked as the only song I even marginally recognized, Panda, came on.

I shrugged my shoulders, even though I knew he wouldn't see it. "I got a few bad bitches somewhere up there."