AUGUST P.O.V. –
“August, are you serious?” Stacy sat across from me at the kitchen table looking at me with her right hand rested on her temple.
I rubbed both my hands down my face exhausted. “How I do?”
“You got every last answer wrong.” She slid me the quiz she just graded across the table.
I tapped my pencil on my book, looking over the quiz.
“What’s wrong? I know you know these answers. Shit. The reason we can’t get a curve in the class is because you keep getting them all right.” She put her feet in the chair Indian style, and combed her fingers through her curls.
“I just can’t concentrate right now.”
“You need to. This exam is tomorrow. You don’t pass this class you don’t graduate.
“Don’t you think I know that! Damn.” I balled up the paper, threw it, then put my face in my palms.
“August.”
“What, man. Stop calling my fucking name.”
“I’mma need you to bring your tone down.”
“My concentration is off. That’s all.” I put my hands in a praying position and rubbed them together.
“Okay…” she moved her hands indicating she needed me to elaborate.
“I don’t feel like talking about it.” I left the kitchen, went into the living sat on the couch and turned on the television.
Stacy came over, took the remote and sat in the chair facing the couch.
“Let me guess, it’s Amber?”
I laid my head back on the couch and sighed.
“Y’all got into it already? You just got together!”
“We not together no more.” I popped my gum and began moving my legs in and out.
She laughed shaking her head in disbelief. “Bruh are you serious? Kim Kardashian’s marriage lasted longer than y’all. Hell, Chris Brown lived longer in Stomp the Yard than y’all dysfunctional ass relationship.” (Side note: I have to thank my home-girl @2wiceMob for this line. I took this from her comment, thought it was utterly hilarious. Okay back to the story.)
I threw a pillow from the couch at her head. “Shits not funny Stac.”
Not moving from the chair, she picked up the pillow and put it on the couch. “Y’all are pathetic. Can you get the shit off the ground before you break-up?”
“It ain’t my fault. She’s the one trippin’.”
“Mm.” Stacy rolled her eyes and went back to the kitchen table.
“What was the “Mm” for?” I looked over at her from the couch.
She just went back to studying.
I went over to table and stood in front of her. “What was that supposed to mean?”
“August, I know you.”
“Then you know I’m not the one at fault.”
“Mm.” She said extra loud, coughed and picked up her pencil.
I took it from her hand. “You think I started the shit?”
“August give me my pencil back?”
“No, answer my question.”
She tried to snatch the pencil from me. We tugged over it a bit, and she eventually won.
