MANCHILD
'noun'
"A boy or adolescent from the streets who was prematurely exposed to and knowledgeable about sex, violence and crime, incarceration, adult responsibility for younger siblings due to a dysfunctional home, and hustling to make a living...
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"So, Kentrell, why don't you introduce yourself to everybody?"
The dude side-eyed Ms. Mayweather and smacked his lips, mumbling something under his breath before finally looking down and saying "I 'on like talkin'."
I rolled my eyes. Here we go. Another fucking lost cause.
Ms. Mayweather wasn't going for the bullshit though. "I'm sure no one here likes to talk about their problems but you all are here for a reason..." She paused hoping that might encourage him, but all he did was stare back with low eyes. "Very well, have a seat Kentrell."
Smirking, the guy licked his lips and walked to the nearby chair that was diagonally behind me. I watched him as he sat down and was about to look away until his low cat eyes landed on me. There was something inexplicable about the way we stared at each other; it sent chills down my spine. Maybe he was all right.
I was about to offer a small smile before he started smirking again, making a kiss face towards me. I frowned before turning away, shaking my head in disgust. Hell no, bitch, stay clear from this crazy ass nigga.
I felt eyes on me but decided not to look back to meet them again. I tried my hardest to pay attention to what Ms. Mayweather was saying – rambling on about the importance of today's exercise – and continued to pop the rubber band against my wrist. My anxiety was starting to be triggered for some reason.
"...I think I'm going to dismiss you all early, today, but before you go, I want you all to list three goals that you hope to accomplish – they can be about anything, short-term or long-term – and put them on my desk before you leave. We'll pick things back up next Wednesday." She clapped her hands and allowed everyone to write down their goals. I stared at my pen and paper for a very long time, not really knowing what to write down. Suddenly, two ideas popped up in my head and I started writing...
1. Get the FUCK outta BR! ASAP!
2. Dance and/or sing and song-write
And...
I scrunched my face up. I didn't know what my third goal was. Fuck, bitch, can you just write some shit so you can go? Rico is waiting outside! You can probably catch her before she pulls off!
