Living in the Careless World (Tyga Story)

Responsibility is Sacrifice

I’m scared as hell. Like, shivering.

So when I woke up this morning, my breath smelled like French fries and wine, and I had a missed text on my phone from Drake saying that he was on his way to pick me up. The thing is, MY HAIR WAS IN A MESS AND I HAD NOTHING TO WEAR.

But guess what—I’m still famous. And famous people get the things they need quickly.

So I called a hair stylist to come to the hotel, sent a fashion advisor to go to the mall and get me something to wear, and got a makeup artist to do me all in 30 minutes. When Drake came, he was actually surprised.

“Weren’t you sleeping when I texted you?” He asks.

“Yeah, I was.” I say. Then there’s a pause. “Okay, so I hired some people to get me ready.” I admit.

Drake laughs. “You’re lazy as hell, you know.”

“I was running short on time.” I say with a smile. I hug him, and then we begin to exit the hotel.

Okay, so this is where I start to reconsider my decision.

Everyone is outside. There are kids my age walking in packs toward school. They’re all carrying backpacks and school gear, ready for the first day of another long, hard year of learning and friends and experience and embarrassment, and all the other crap that comes with high school.

But I’m standing here next to one of the most famous rappers in America, wearing a fashionable outfit instead of a drab uniform. And I have no backpack, just a tiny little clutch that holds my lip gloss and my phone. They’re getting ready to learn, I’m getting ready to just drop by and leave, and apologize to Drake for wasting his time.

You see, my situation is way more fun and appealing than theirs. Yet I still feel like I should be in their shoes.

“You ready?” Drake asks as he’s sitting next to me in a different car than last night. I don’t even know what kind of car this one is; all I know is that it’s a drop top. I hadn’t even realized I’d gotten in the car.

Another thing I hadn’t realized is that every single person on the block was staring right at us. Of course they were—we were superstars.

Author’s Note: Jaydi’s Outfit Is In The Comments . Keep Readin' .

“Ay,” Drake says, snapping his fingers in my face. “You ready?”

“Um, yeah. I’m cool.” I say, trying to sound relaxed.

Then we started driving full-speed, my hair almost untangling itself out of the bun I’d put it in. I really couldn’t tell whether the air was cool or damp, because all I could feel was wind biting my face. Then I realized that Fall would be here soon; it was getting colder.

* * *

The school was a tall brick building, with two lion heads above the doors. There were two separate staircases to enter through. Inside, it was pretty busy. There was a front desk that had a crowd of kids around it, and an auditorium/cafeteria across from the front desk. Down the hall, there seemed to be the main office.

Drake was holding my hand. For a split second, he let my hand go to do something. In that second, I swear I could’ve cried until he held my hand again.

We exchanged glances and then walked towards the desk. When we did, girls were screaming. They were trying to get close to us. The school’s bodyguards kept them all back. There were a couple students on line before us, but they let us go before them.

Those are the pros of being famous.

“Hello, dear. How can we help you?” A fat lady with a hoarse voice asked Drake and I. He looked at me and gave me a little nod, as if telling me to take care of my business. He was still holding my hand though.

I knew he cared.

“I um…I need to talk to someone about enrollment. Would that be you?” I asked in the most professional tone I could. The woman was a little surprised; I guess everyone expects me to just drop out of school.

“Down the hall in the main office; ask for Ms. White. She’ll answer any questions you have.” The woman said to me. I thanked her, and Drake followed me down the hall to the main office.

The main office isn’t very big. There’s two sections: one with some chairs, and then the other section which had a bunch of ladies sitting at tiny desks. The main office eventually branched off into the principal’s office. I asked someone for Ms. White, and it was actually her.

“Hi,” I said to her. “I’m Jaydi, and this is my friend Drake.”

Drake shook Ms. White’s hand, and then we both sat down in two chairs in front of her desk.

“So how can I help you?” She asks.

“Well, my friend doesn’t exactly need help. He’s just accompanying me today. I’m the one that has a few questions about enrolling here.” I said slowly. Ms. White nodded, urging me to continue.

“Okay, so I’m kind of…famous. So I’m all over the place. It’s really rare that I stay in one place for over a month, or two tops. But I don’t want to keep switching schools. But if I’m coming here, I’ll definitely change. I’ll probably stay in Houston for four months at a time.” I explained.

“That’s a good compromise. It won’t be a problem.” Ms. White said.

“And do you need parental consent for me to go here? Because I won’t be able to provide that…” I asked. I definitely wasn’t going to get Mama involved in this.

“We don’t need parental consent, just consent of someone who is over 18 years old.” She explained.

I looked at Drake, and he nodded. I knew he would be there for me.

“Okay, so one more thing: can I have a tour of the school? That’s all I need to really decide if I’ll come here or not.” I said.

“Sure. So no more problems you have?” She asked.

“No.” I said with a smile.

“But…won’t that be a problem?” She asks. I don’t know what she’s talking about.

“Won’t what be a problem?” I ask. Then she rubs her stomach.

And for the first time that day, I remembered that I was pregnant. Not only pregnant, but 5 months.

* * *

The school only has three floors. All the classes I’d be taking are on one floor, besides P.E.

I’ll be taking Global History, Algebra, Biology, Spanish, Literature, Guidance Counseling, and P.E. I went in every class room and spoke to the teachers. But it was so uncomfortable, because everyone wasn’t looking at my face; they were staring at my pregnant stomach.

The tour was almost over at 9:3O A.M. The last thing we needed to do was look at available lockers.

“This one is available. It’s one of our best lockers; we always save it for our best students. The window’s nearby, there are no classrooms near this one, it’s large, and there’s a bench. It’s perfect. And it can be yours if you come here.” Mrs. Goldberg said.

I pulled Drake aside. “I don’t know what to do. I just want to curl up and die right now.” I said to him.

“Every pregnant woman feels like that sometimes. It’s natural. Just try to cope. And I really think you should come here. Every now and then, I’d come and drop you off and pick you up, just to make you feel good.” He said with a sincere smile.

I looked around me and weighed my options. I needed an education. If I didn’t get one, what would happen to the baby’s life? I wouldn’t be able to get a good job, we’d be poor. And what if T decided to leave me with the baby? I’d have no source of money. Our lives would be ruined, all because I didn’t feel like finishing high school.

It took ten minutes, but then finally I made my decision: I was going back to school.

So I let that lady give me my combination for my locker, and enroll me into their computer and give me a supply list. I was officially a student at Donald H. Kingston High School.