Chapter Two

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Guys, before you start throwing comments at me about taking so long with this story I just wanna say sorryyyyy. I just haven't had much motivation and all that jazz, but Im back and I hope you like it :3 Thanks for reading, voting, following, and commenting because its all appreciated xoxo

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"Okay, so takeout will be here in about 20 minutes, money is on the table downstairs, Thurston is in the next room in case of an emergency...."

I scoffed at that last comment. As if I can't handle myself And what emergency.? What is going to happen in this quiet ass neighborhood.?

Mom was in the mirror in my room, putting on her earrings and checking out her outfit. Her and David were going out tonight for some type of gathering. He was flaunting her to everyone of his friends and colleagues. Not that I blame him, my mom looked good for her age .

"Kymberlee." Mom exclaims

" Yeah?" I Laugh

" Did you hear what I said?"

"Yeah, Takeout, Money, White Boy. Easy Peasy." I swiftly say

"Thurston," She corrects, "Be nice to him."

I grit my teeth, then smile. Maybe I should give White B- Thurston, a chance. No matter how annoyingly sarcastic he is and annoying and stupid and annoying and even more annoying. I could do for a blunt like right now.

" Kymberlee." Mom exclaims exasperatedly

"Hm?"

Before she could utter a word a car loudly honked from outside. It was David signaling mom to come outside.

"Thats David. " She blushed

"No, Really?" I Faked surprise

She then gave me that look. That ' please-cooperate-' look. I deeply sighed and with that she was out the door, I strolled over to my new stereo that David bought as a 'please-like-me' present. I took it, but that don't mean I like him.. I turned it up to its highest volume and began moving my head to the rhythm of the music.

"Mi Have Anotha Man, Mi Have Anotha Man.."

Mom is originally from Barbados making both of us West Indian, so I listen to mostly reggae. It makes me feel good. Reggae, Dancehall, Soca, all of it. It melos out my mood whenever I don't feel like myself.

I playfully dance toward dreser and pull out my sock drawer. In it I have a pair of these ugly socks, I got for Christmas that I never wear and I use it for stashing my stash. I put the bag on top of the dresser and take out blueberry scented wrapping paper. The song on the stereo changes

"Ima stoner, ima stoner, ima stoner..."

Oooh yes I am. While smiling like an idiot I dump the weed into the wrapping paper and begin to lick the paper so that it sticks.

DING-DONG

That just has to be the Chinese. Just thinking about the feeling I'm gonna have after I smoke then eat is giving me butterflies.

I run downstairs and swing the door open . Before standing in the door way was a tall blond head, green eyed white boy.

'Hey." He breathed out

"How much do I owe you?" I quickly said

I remembered that the money was on the table in the kitchen. Before he says anything I place one finger up and rush into the kitchen, snatch the money off the table then rush back. When I came back he was fiddling with the plastic bag.

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