Back on the Block | On My Block fanfic

Dear Diary

"You invited him here?" Jamal shrieked. 

Six feet away sat Monse, Jasmin, and oh god, it hurt to even say his name, Ruby. All three were wedged into a shiny red booth with plastic seats and flimsy laminated breakfast menus, but Jamal couldn't even think about Rooty Tooty Fresh N' Fruity with a side of hash browns when his arch-nemesis was staring him down and sucking down a milkshake. 

Monse certainly didn't include the fact that Ruby would be there when they made plans last night to "catch up" at the dingy IHOP on the other side of town, which was mostly deserted, an ideal spot to dodge any familiar faces from high school they might encounter.  Jamal thought this was when she was going to finally apologize for being rude to him all those years ago, I mean, sitting by a dusty window, alone, sharing a stack of chocolate-chip pancakes, it seemed like the perfect opportunity for atonement.  But that was before Ruby entered the equation. 

Monse stood up. "Jamal, I know you guys have had bad blood since I left, but I need to talk to you guys about something--"

"OH, that's how it is, Mon-say? It's all about your needs, whatever Miss Monse wants right now, how dare anyone think about Jamal?! And right now, I think I still need some damn space from your toxic vibes."

She sighed. "Jamal? Not even a 'welcome back'? A hello?"

Jamal's jaw dropped in an over exaggerated Jamal fashion and he tsk'ed. "Uh! The only welcome you need is a 'Welcome Back to Reality... BITCH!' You think I'm gonna sit here and play nice, hashing out my beef with you AND that fool at the same time?"

"Okay, you guys really need to tell me what happened between you two." Monse turned to Ruby, who took a sip of his strawberry milkshake and sunk lower in his seat. Next to him, Jasmin was shaking her head and typing away at her phone. "But Jamal, listen, I know you're still a little salty--"

"A little salty!?"

Monse held up a hand. "-- Yes, about how we didn't listen to you, like, ever, and all that, but that's in the past. We're grown now. And I need you to put on your big boy panties for once because this is actually important." 

Jamal opened his mouth again but closed it as soon as the glass IHOP door opened, marked by a tinkling bell overhead. It was Tyrone Feeder, from the football team way back when. Jamal angled himself away from the door, hoping Tyrone might mistake him for your average IHOP attendee, but right away he held up one ridiculously over sized hand and smiled. 

"Yo what's up Turner?" Tyrone approached, his equally huge size 16 feet echoing through the diner. "Good to see you, man."

Immediately, Jamal let his shoulders relax and tipped his head back just slightly, almost as on instinct. He went from manic predator to calm alpha in a fraction of a second. Monse cocked her head to the side having never seen this side of him before. 

After they engaged in a courteous "bro-shake", Jamal stepped back. "Hey, been a while, dude." He glanced from the table full of kids to Tyrone, trying his best to not seem involved with them in any way at all. This was somewhat difficult to achieve, however, as all three eyes were glued to Jamal and this strange new dynamic that was very un-Jamal like. "Say, uh, whatchu doing here anyways?" He laughed. 

"Ah," Tyrone said. He pinched his blue polo. "New gig. Need the tips, you know."

"Gotcha, gotcha." 

It was quiet for a moment as the two stood looking around, both having adopted the same slouched, head-back, hands in pocket posture. 

Before it could get too awkward, Monse said, "Hey, Jamal, you gonna sit down or what?"