Three Days Later...
Monday, June 15th
Paris POV
5:17 PM
Me and my dad talked about everything, and apparently, he wasn't tripping too much over the fact that I was smoking, cause honestly he don't care, but more so the whole sex thing and me drinking.
I hate being mad and my dad and vice versa, so we're good now.
He still feels some type of way towards Jamar though and that pisses me off.
No, I haven't talked to him since then, but I planned on going over to his house to talk in person.
"Where you going?" I asked my dad as he brushed his waves in the mirror.
"Finna go kick it wit Israel for a lil bit at a bar. How my fit looking?" He said as he looked up and down. Israel is my uncle, his brother.
I laughed. "Dude you're funny. But I mess wit the drip."
"Aight I'll be back." He gave me a kiss on my forehead. "And if you leave, text me or call me. Love you."
He said as he walked out through the front door. "Love you too."
- - - - - - - - - - - - -
5:50 PM
I made my way to Jamar's house in my G Wagon (😛) and I was nervous as hell.
He lived like 10 minutes away so It wasn't a far drive.
8 minutes later...
I got out my car as I arrived to his house and fixed myself up before I knocked.
*knock knock knock*
After about 10 seconds, a familiar face came to the door...
"May I help you?" His mom, whose name I don't even know, rudely said as she opened the door.
Trying to keep my composure, I gave a fake smile and calmly responded.
"Hi. I'm looking for Jamar. Is he home?"
She slightly closed the door and I guess went to go get him.
After about a minute or so, Jamar came to the door looking fine as hell...
man I miss my baby...
He closed the door behind him as he walked out.
"Wassup?" He leaned against the door.
"Jamar I'm so sorry about how my daddy acted I-"
"Nah. It's cool. It's not yo fault he reacted the way he did—same way it's not my fault my mama reacted the way she did to you. But what I don't get is how you can just run away from every situation you encounter...I mean you just gone block my number cause you mad? What sense does that even make bro?"
"Bro I came over to apologize, that's the whole fucking point! So while you tryna come at me with the bullshit, maybe you should try to fucking listen!" I said with my arms crossed, looking at up at him who's like 100000 inches taller than me.
YOU ARE READING
To Live and Die In L.A. (FINISHED) Pt. 1
Teen FictionSeventeen year old Paris Brooks, born and raised in South Central L.A., is struggling to get over the murder of her mom which she witnessed when she was only six years old. She's not happy like she used to be and goes through many obstacles because...
