Dads are supposed to be the most ordinary men turned by love into heroes.

So, why did mine have to be a villain?

I hate Paul Justice Parker.

I swore I wouldn't be like PJ.

Shit.

He is haughty, merciless, cunning, and deceitful in every manner of personal or professional business.

He has no heart and could never love since he had not been loved as a child. The streets were his home, his family, and his refuge when he grew up in a nice home.

When my mother told him she was pregnant with me, he just threw money at her for an abortion.

My mom was a saint.

Evelyn Robinson was an angel who found the devil and fell under his ways.

Mom did everything she could not to be a teen mom. She was ambitious and driven. I guess that's where I got that from. She worked two jobs, at CVS and on the weekends at a nursing home. She did whatever it took to learn and grow to be a better nurse. I barely got to see her but when I did it was worth every minute.

Thankfully, Uncle Steve, my mom's valiant older brother, welcomed us into their home, allowing her to flourish.

By twenty-three, Mom became a Registered Nurse at Mt. Washington Pediatric Hospital.  I'd never seen her so happy but didn't know she felt empty. We were finally able to get the dream Fells Point home she saw in the newspaper and I finally got to a promising school because public school in Baltimore city can be a nightmare.

We were good without PJ at least I thought so. Mom always wanted a family and wanted to model what she had growing up.

My grandparents were God sent that's for sure especially Grandmom.

I sigh, deeply gazing at the crease between my forearm where I reserved a spot for them.  The cardinal tattoo's ink still looks fresh under my skin. Cardinals was all over her damn house. But I remember grandmom saying how cardinals appear when angels are near. She really stuck by that after Grandpa died. I press my thumb over the date he left this earth.

March Eleventh.

Why do the good people leave and the bad people stay?

Mom tried so hard for our family to work but you can't turn a street thug into a house husband, he's just not wired that way.

Mom sermonized how much it was important for PJ to be in our lives or just selfishly to be in hers. I thought, well, maybe I should give it a shot.

He intoxicated us emotionally with his empty euphoric promises about how we would change the world and better themselves, not once mentioning leaving the streets.

He was cunning and he had no deserve for change.

I will never forgive him for fucking up our lives.

I tighten the steering wheel, driving into a designated parking space and put my car in park. I check the time and curse inwardly at Peter for being late.

I reach into my pockets to get my lighter and pull a rolled-up joint from the sunglass case holder in the car. I light the joint and inhale Mary J, exhilarating bliss.

I closed my eyes to calm down, blocking away my deep rage that always resurfaces for my father.

Why did PJ have to be my father out of all people?

I wish Mom would have stayed with Nathan.

I miss him.

Nathan would have been a great father.

I guess I should give some sort of credit to PJ...teaching me street smarts, math, what to say, and what not to say to cops. Or how to defend myself when other drug dealers try to take over his territory.

Not the best world class parenting.

I inhale closing my eyes thinking about all the dark memories. I can't believe the law thought detaining an eleven-year-old and hog-tying him was justice. I didn't even do anything, yet they saw my skin color and immediately saw guilty.

For a second, PJ cared about me and said, "Not him," but told the police in the cab that I wasn't his, just some homeless street kid. He was locked up and I was abandoned to the system until Aunt Lisa and Uncle Steve gained parental custody permanently.

I didn't like being there at first, and I would run away because I felt forced to run the streets for PJ. He made it seem like a family business and sadly it was and somewhat still is. 

Consequently, Uncle Steve found me on the corner, yanked me up, and threw me in his car.

They were trying to find me for a week.

I will never forget that tight, loving grip on my right arm.

When I was thirteen, Uncle Steve took me to visit PJ at the Baltimore County Detention Center the same day.  He knew deep down I missed him and loved him but it's just pure hatred. 

Damn that place was like pure hell, with howls of mental illness and banging on the cells. It was not where I wanted to be.  PJ somehow enjoyed the free, warm bed and board because he didn't have the responsibility of taking care of his kid.

He didn't say he missed me, asked how I was doing, or showed that he loved me but did ask how was the block.  I ended the visit early because the telephones felt grimy on my hands and his words even dirtier in my ears.

On the drive home, Uncle Steve asked how my visit went and I just shut down every emotion I could think of. All he told me was it will be okay and that's when I felt my mom's heart for a second. 

That was also the time I declared I didn't want to be here anymore and my life wasn't worth living.

It's a dark place to fall into but Aunt Lisa and Uncle Steve have been helping fight the battle every single day.

I sigh heavily, adjusting myself in the driver's seat, thinking how it took me years to allow Aunt Lisa and Uncle Steve in my heart.  I wanted them there too. 

They are still trying.

When I was playing ball in high school, I was good enough that I attracted attention, positive attention. With dollar signs in his eyes, PJ resurfaced into my life. PJ found out I was going to be something, a star, a promising future. I was going to be more than what he could ever be and the future he walked away from.

I toss the blunt out the car and roll down the windows. Resting my head back on the head rest.

I will never forget how he came to my decision day with Uncle Steve and Aunt Lisa. To say the least, everyone was shocked, including me. He projected this false persona to them as if he were a changed man, but wolves can wear sheep's clothing. He took me out to eat and, in my hopes thinking he was going to apologize.... He ended up giving me a proposition.

His heartless offer I couldn't refuse circled around an idea he built up in my head, that I could run the world at UMD. With a simple sale of Ritalin and Mary J, the school would be in my hands. I shot his idea down because I told him that's not who I am.

My reality and pride crashed when I saw the bill after the 'full free ride' loopholes surfaced. Uncle Steve and Aunt Lisa couldn't afford it because they had to save for foster care children and overwhelming bills mom left behind and my grandparents house.

I'm going to buy that house when I make it.

It was almost like PJ knew... and I can't believe I crawled back into his manipulative ways, but he told me I would never have to worry again if I just tried his idea for a month.... which became a year... which became until this very instant.

I hate fucking PJ.

I don't want to be caught up on this anymore honestly. And I've been battling to continue since my future so close in reach.

I rub under my chin and grip the steering wheel as I sit in the South Campus dining parking lot.

I don't want to do this anymore.

My phone draws my attention by the vibration in my pocket. I glance and roll my eyes.

Ava: are you busy today? I need to talk to you.

Regret washes over thinking of my choices this weekend. I admit I slip out fucked with Ava again.

It's hard to explain it's more than just sleeping with her. It's just with Ava I can have this outer body experience just not feeling. It's fucked up and I don't want that occurring thing or her end up fucking pregnant and I'm locked with a crazy baby mama and never live my full potential in the NBA.

I gotta end things.

I reply back simply Yea and turn off my phone when a familiar blue Honda Civic pulls around by my car. I take a quick look at the time.

Damn it, Peter...

Peter Kennedy, Senior, Alpha Delta Phi frat boy, straight-A Physician Assistant student, and addicted to Ritalin.

I watch his moves, fidgeting around in his car, and I grip the wheel impatiently.

He better have my fucking money.

He glances over in a panic giving me the same look as always.

Damn it, Peter.

I open my door, get out of my car, and get out standing tall. Peter gets out of his car, leans against it, and puts his hands in his pockets.

"You're late," I clip and toss my blunt on the ground.

"Sorry, bro, I got caught up," he frantically speaks, fidgeting his hands.

I toss the dime bag to him, filled with two Ritalin pills. He looks at it earnestly and stuffs it in his pocket. He ruffles around in his pocket and pulls out a twenty. He hands it to me and I arch my eyebrow.

In a weak voice, he offers, "I can give the rest after tomorrow."

"Don't fuck with my money Peter. You still owe me from last time." I point at him, and he nods quickly, scared out of his mind.

"Y-yeah, I got it."

I slant my eyes at him and again point at him, warning him to stop fucking around. I get into my car without another word and recheck the clock. I glance over to see Peter hurriedly taking the two pills in his car. I shake my head in disapproval.

He is not going to make it through PA school.

One vital thing PJ taught me was don't let drug addicts call the shots. And if he knew the shit I've been pulling... I don't think I would be speaking right now. How vast amount students are addicted to drugs is staggering.

That's why PJ is flourishing right now because of me... Yet he still won't say he is proud of me...

I don't think anything I do will be good enough for him. I don't even know why I do this for him.

I need to stop.

I sigh in disappointment and drove away back across campus because I'm now late for my tutoring session. I'm pissed that I got yet another sixty seven percent on my test. I should be better at this class because I know my numbers, but Statistics is a whole different ball game.

It's my fault for doing late night runs for PJ the night before.

I keep telling myself I need to end this deal with PJ, but this is how I survive. This is how Hollis, Marcus, Jordy, and I are able to have a decent place for senior year because, let me tell you, just because you are an athlete, college doesn't give a damn where you live...

Well, at least UMD.

Living off-campus is nice, but it can be challenging. Our townhome is safe, secure, and well worth it. We can live like kings without any campus rules.

I chuckle, remembering getting thrown from Terrapins Turf with the guys on Friday night. Marcus was intoxicated to the point of delusion, ranting about how Big Red had permanently destroyed all play for him because he actually started having feelings for her crazy ass. He was so loud that if we were at the dorms, then we would have been bound to get complaints from the building.

I chuckle again as I drive up Campus Drive, reminiscing the comical sight of the gorgeous woman and Alexis battling to get Big Red into her shiny yellow barbie Jeep. It was humorous to see a woman no taller than five foot two struggle to carry a feisty-gingered Amazon-bodied basketball player.

We were about to leave once Marcus was settled until Rashad began bitch at me about helping the two rescue thunderbolt. He received an eye roll because I was trying to defend my balls from her drunken wrath. Plus Aunt Lisa would be mad I wasn't looking out for her adopted child.

Don't ask, their bond is what I can never understand.

I effortlessly hoisted firecracker over my shoulder, allowing me to get a closer look at that sweet honey face.

Elizabeth the waitress. Lizzie for those who are close to her.

Her brown doe eyes took a double-take when she saw how I manhandled Big Red. I couldn't help but ogle her, even with a fist pounding in my back, marveling at her beauty. She was alluring, and as she walked in front of me to open the door, I couldn't help but fantasize about one day connecting my hand on her bare ass repeatedly.

Every second we spent putting Red Dragon into her jeep felt like a nanosecond. Lizzie bit her lip reflexively as Red Dragon fists flew wherever they could. My cock hardens in an instant at the memory of her luscious, full lower lip encased in her teeth and the image of my teeth clenching down on it instead.

I moved her gently to keep Fireball from hitting her. Elizabeth's skin melted in my palms, it was so soft, buttery and squeezable. I caught a whiff of her lovely, non-obtrusive vanilla scent and swore my brain dizzied. The aroma enticed me to approach closer and my fingers twitched for another touch, but she retreated off when Red Dawn tried to kick me.

Damn...

As Maxine furiously shouted to get my dirty paws off her and Lizzie. I ignored her and buckled her in. I shut the door when our eyes met again.

Worlds change when eyes meet.

I opened the door for her and wished her goodnight, but Maxine told me to keep my dick in my pants and beat it. I couldn't help but laugh, wavin-

"DUDE, WHAT THE FUCK!"

I brake hard when I almost hit a scrawny kid with my car. He waves his hands like 'What the fuck?' but realize  when he saw me. I clench my jaw to intimate him and he scurries along like a bitch.

A few more students walk past my car when I approach the sidewalks crossing from the quad over to the Omicron Delta Kappa Fountain, and I anxiously tap my hands on the wheel as students slowly walk across in random, self-created pathways.

A girl waves at me and I give her a head nod she blushes and smiles, but her man wraps his arm around her in protection.

I chuckle, shaking my head. I glance at the clock again and press on the gas because now I'm actually late. Once I have to stop again, I slam my fists on the steering wheel and curse under my breath. My blood is pounding in my ears, but I send a quick text to Ms. Nusbaum that I'll be there soon.

Fuck.

I'm fucked if I miss this appointment. I won't be able to arrange another one until next week. Everyone had to be walking across the street as if the universe knew I needed to do something important but laughed at me for it.

My patience is dwindling and I'm not going to make it. A few corners passed later, I'm now roughly twenty minutes late due to many stops. I hastily parked in the one-hour space and grabbed my Statistics textbook.

With as fast of steps as my long legs take, I dash through the Academic Center's automated glass doors and up the two flights of stairs. I flung open the door like a madman, but as I regained my composure, I notice the dimly illuminated space. It's peaceful and tranquil, quickly erasing all my frantic thoughts and racing pulse.

I go up to the main desk, which is scattered with various fliers advertising forthcoming events. I lean on the counter with my elbows, enjoying the pretty brunette who's humming and bobbing her head to music in front of a giant apple computer while chewing gum like a cow.

"Let's go to the beach beach.. let's go getaway," she sings along with Nicki Minaj.

I clear my throat as an arrogant smirk grows across my face. The brunette's eyes flick up and she scowls at me, obviously irritated.

"Can I help you?" she says unpleasantly.

"Yeah, uh, I'm meeting my tutor here," I rasp out, rubbing the back of my neck.

The brunette's head slowly rises from the computer, she snootily twists her lips, and shifts her eyes back to the computer.

"What's your student identification number?" She pushes up her glasses and glances at me.

I rattle off the numbers, "zero-one-seven-seven-eight-nine."

"Umm... huh," she says cryptically and shoots me a look of discontent. "Sorry, but you missed your appointment."

I groan in annoyance, making an echo in the quiet area. "I know that. I sent Ms. Nusbaum a text message."

"Well, you have like a fifteen-minute window before-"

"Oh, Jaylan!" The nasal voice I'm here to see causes my ears to bleed.

I look over my shoulder to see Ms. Nusbaum smirk in a way I don't think any female faculty should smirk at a male student. She clearly was expecting me with how tight her dress was clung to her body.

Yeah that's not an armathic math equation I'm going to dabble into and Coach Rick, Head Coach of Football is her husband yeah i'll pass.

"Jaylan, I'm sorry you were late, but your tutor was so kind enough to make you some homework problems to work on until your next meeting. She is great! I think you will be really successful with her." Ms. Nusbaum hands me a handmade bound booklet.

I take a glimpse of the colorful, vibrant, over the type calligraphy.

Anyone willing to do this literally must eat, sleep, and breathe school.

"Kimberly, could you schedule Jaylan for the same tutor?" Ms. Nusbaum smiles at me and looks back at disgusted Kimberly, who's about to get up out of her seat to leave.

"Sure," she grits her teeth.

The awkwardness between the three of us forces me to look through the handmade book. I flip through, glancing at each page how intricately and well-written it is with the over amount of bright pastel colors.

The longer I study the time and effort this preparation must have taken, I start to feel guilty about how much hard work this girl put in just for my education. My hand skims the pale yellow posted note attached on the inside of the cover.

Please go over chapter one and work on these problems. We will review the next time you schedule.

No name?

I chuckle and shut the book, looking up to see Ms. Nusbaum dropping her hand quickly from her hair.

What the fuck?

"Okay, Jaylan, your tutor has availability for Wednesdays and Saturdays." Kimberly's brows knit as she moves her hand on the mouse.

"I can't do Saturdays; I have basketball games."

"We know," she clips as she sticks her nose in the air.

I chuckle and lean back on the central desk, making the color drain from her cheeks when I flash a smile at her.

"Can I do the same time?" I smugly grin.

"Sure." Kim's attitude doesn't shift.

I chuckle and pat the booklet on the counter. "Thanks." I nod my head up, cocky, and she rolls her eyes at me. I grin with arrogance and get up.

Man, today was definitely a waste, and now I got to go to practice hearing Coach crab about this upcoming game with our Big-Ten rival, Ohio State.

"Thanks again, Ms. Nusbaum."

"Anytime, Jaylan, feel free to stop by anytime." She observes me up and down.

"Right." I slant my eyes.

I leave the area and head to the elevator in time to begin working on this assignment before practice. Thankfully, I have time.

I grunt, impatiently waiting for this slow elevator, when my ears tune into Disney Music, which is loudly blaring from someone's headphones. I chuckle and shake my head, thinking that whoever it is, they are probably not studying but rather playing tik tok.

That's when I heard the most enticingly sweet giggle. Curiosity piqued, I ventured over to the side of the Academic Center where there are several study rooms. I look around, but there is no one there except for the music, which I follow until it becomes louder. I look to the left and right, but see no one is in sight.

I wander along a path lined with resource bookshelves and see nothing. I glance out the window to the left, where snow is steadily falling, yet I can still hear the music blurring. As I try to figure out what attractive voice is coming from so softly, I feel like I'm in some kind of another illicit dream.

Whoever designed the arrangement of this academic facility is psychotic, with the number of corners resembling a maze.

"Nooo, it's Phe-nyt-oin, not Phenotone," a sweet giggle comes from a nearby study room.

"Ph-nyt-oin," a struggling male repeats after the sweet voice sounding from the computer.

"Spencer," the sweet, distressed voice says with a hint of annoyance that I can't help but find fucking adorable.

I step forward to peep in the room, but  a text message comes through. I ruffle through my joggers and grab my phone as it dings again.

Ava🍑💋:  are you busy? I need to vent 🍆

[Image]

My gaze drifts from a photo of Ava's breasts to the honeyed laughter that filters into my ears and sends chills up my spine. It's so tantalizing, I put my phone in my pocket and take a step forward inside the room.

My heart leaps as I see the familiar raven hair cascading down to her lower back, ending above her oversized bright yellow winderbreaking that looks a fresh banana.

I wonder what's underneath that thing.

She leans forward to an Apple Pro, giggling and making music in my ears. She raises herself up onto one knee, allowing me a glimpse of light-washed jeans hugging a round, juicy ass hugging so firmly that every curve was on full display.

I know that ass from anywhere.

When I look over her shoulder, I see six books open, one of which has a wound on the skull, making my stomach queasy. I noticed the same girly handwriting from my handmade notebook on a notebook page. It's sloppily but somehow neatly written, with words highlighted in purple.

I smugly grin and watch her comb her sexy hair through her fingers, letting out another giggle at something that dork says.

"No Spencer, we've come so far. Just four more months," she encourages.

"Uh, Lizzie..." The dork squeaks to clear his throat.

"What?" She shifts that curvy, tempting body to sit back in her chair, plopping her ass back down.

The contact sends a small ripple through both round globes and I swear my palms heat at what kind of effect they can make on all that flesh, a full-sized handprint and more. I smirk at how sexy as fuck she looks from behind and my cock swells at how much better that hourglass figure would look with my fingers digging into her hips as I -

"Lizzie, somebody is behind you," the dorky male voice sounds annoyed.

She turns around, and flashes me the same warm, enticing gingerbread brown eyes. Everything I was getting ready to say, every smooth word in my vocabulary, vanishes with one look. Her eyes, big, round, and curious, steal all my words away. Her full lips part as she looks at me leaning against the doorframe. Her eyes flicker back and forth, unsure what to say.

"You okay?" the dork asks.

She turns her head around and mutes the computer, holding up her hand in a 'one second' gesture. She turns back again and I flash a smile at her. The top of her cheeks become red as she looks up at me. She clears her throat in the gentlest way.

"Nice to see you again, Lizzie."

She bites her lower lip and I'm wondering if she wants to respond. It didn't bother me since our eyes are enjoying their own conversation. She presses her lips as I stand at the door frame, leaning back and smiling playfully.

Fuck, she got me speechless.

As silence envelopes between us, I unfold my arms and stuff them into my pockets. It's quiet, but not an uncomfortable quiet. Just the opposite, as a calmness washes over me.

We're just looking at each other and fuck, I could look at her for hours. Even just doing her homework wearing nothing but my T-shirt so that ass is purposely revealed just for me works..

Damn she wears glasses too!

I could only imagine them fogging up from our breaths ragged humping like rabbits. Or knocking them off from how hard I smash into her from behind.

Damn it Maxine, you really did me dirty.

I internally grumble and she glances down at the booklet in my hands and then up at me. A flash of recognition appears in her eyes as her head tilts to the side.

Her full, pouty mouth finally opens. "Make sure you-"

"PARKER!"

Suddenly, a familiar black finger nail hand shoves my arm down.

"Jaylan, get your tiny, disease-ridden dick in your pants and stay away from my best friend! EWAH AND UGH!" The demon ginger rushes to Lizzie's side. Maxine growls like a lion, observing my half hard on but luckily Lizzie is too oblivious to notice.

Thank God.

This is the sickest torture. I think this is Big Red's plan so my mind would be distracted on the court thinking about sweet cheeks over here.

I'm going to have to double up on my Sudoku.

I chuckle at her exaggerated body stance, attempting to obstruct my line of focus towards Lizzie. However, I effortlessly tower over the point guard by a solid six inches, allowing me to see Lizzie with absolute clarity. And let me tell you, she remains just as alluring as she is undeniably cute.

"Big Red you really need to work on your introduction skills. Clearly, you haven't mastered the art of properly introducing me to your best friend." I lick my lower lip and my lips pull up, "And let's not forget, everyone is well aware that far from tiny," I confidently state this while basking in the sight of Lizzie's eyes, shimmering with a hint of gold.

"She isn't up for your fuckboy ways, now beat it!" Max blocks my view again.

"Just stopping to say thanks." I look over her with my tallness as Lizzie's eyes focus on mine.

"For what?" Maxine folds her arms, stepping her body in front of her.

"The book." I wave the booklet in my hands.

"Okay, whatever. You did, so scurry along." Max shoos me away.

Lizzie looks away and covers her face to conceal an adorable blush and sweet smile. I've lost my damn mind with the number of times 'adorable' has been in my head, but my mind also has all kinds of ideas to further that look on her face. Endless scenarios play out to deepen that blush, all of them dirty and coupled with moans or even better screams.

Maxine scoffs at my provocative behavior like she knows my exact thoughts. "Beat it, Parker!" she threatens me with those witch-looking nails.

"Bye, Lizzie," I say with a smug smile as she meekly glances away again, and I chuckle.

That's cute.

"It's Elizabeth to you!"

I smile again and lick my lips, making Fire demon's cheeks boil with rage. Elizabeth's lovely lips squeak, trying to hide her laughter.

"Alright," I say, giving one last smile.

I walk out and chuckle, hearing Maxine grumbling about not talking to strangers she doesn't know or worse, strangers she does know but doesn't trust. Then a bold response about we know him way too well with a sugary giggle hits my ears. That sound makes my heart gallop, a feeling I never thought I could tap into.

Those eyes were like an illuminating city reflected in the tint of gold holds riches and reign like a true queen she is. And if I feel this much lightness from just an exchanged look, then Lizzie might just be the biggest high I've met here.

Damn, I've got to see her again.

Edited by: still_just_me