Is it April fourth yet?

The piercing screech of the whistle blows through the gymnasium, as Coach T demonstrates a dribble to all of us.

We groan and grumble like zombies because our ears will bleed by the end of this. It's fucking nine in the morning and, after hearing that since seven, I'm over it. Officially.

The way Coach's whistle blows with each breath, you would think he is trying out to be on the drumline. As he toots three times at Jordy, Marcus mocks him while saluting him like in the army.

I love Coach Tyree.

Shaking my head, I think back to my very first practice as a freshman when he made us legit sit in a circle with cold metal chairs that Marcus broke immediately as we did our first drill together passing the basketball in a circle without dropping. You would think this is easier said and done but there is always a reason for his madness.

Bu-

I flinch as the shrill sound ripples throughout my body, causing Xavier to drop the ball in the circle and us to lock gazes on him.

"Coach, the whistle, yo," Xavier grumbles.

Coach blows it right in his face and Xavier whines. "The whistle won't stop 'till the last game and win, huddle up." Coach orders, motioning all of us to him.

Jordy pushes back his chair, obviously echoing through the whole gymnasium of the practice court. Our shoes squeak in unison as we gather around with ragged breaths and sweat dripping down our faces.

Coach means business and the more we push, the tougher the drills get. Last night, we dribbled the ball for two hours straight until he heard the bounces in unison. He said, the beat of the ball is the beat of our heart. If it's out of beat, we're out of sync on the floor.

I won't lie, I have been struggling with not having Aunt Lisa and Uncle Steve, Celery Exterminator, and especially my mom. Her prescience not being here or hearing her voice has increased the magnitude of my grief lately.

Everyone has been talking about their parents coming to see the Semi Finals and the Championships. Even Marcus' mom is coming and that says a lot since she can step away from his sperm donor. Aunt Lisa and Uncle Steve would be here already but legal issues with Malachi being a foster child and unable to cross states leave them with the only option to give up their rights to another foster family. I know that would be very hard for Aunt Lisa, considering they are thinking about adopting him from what she told me last night.

I'm so thankful Lizzie is able to come because the aching feeling in my chest rising doesn't feel good at all.

Homesickness fucking sucks and I honestly don't know how Lizzie has been dealing with it for almost four years. It's hitting me harder this year than ever before. In my previous time here, it was great to get away and not be back at UMD. The thrill of being out of state was exciting to me and pretending I'm far away from my problems. In reality, unfortunately grief follows you wherever you go and there is no escaping it.

Glancing over at the court side seats, my shoulders slump thinking about Scrabble Champion.

I really miss her.

I want her here now and if April Fourth doesn't come sooner, I'm going to lose my mind. There are not enough pages and books for Sudoku or weights for me not to miss Teddy Bear Extraordinaire.

Lizzie makes the day brighter in everything she does. It's a gift she has been blessed with despite her darkest moments in her past. Lizzie should be mean, heartless and bitter the way people have treated her, how her dad continues to smoke and her parents getting divorce but she chooses joy and will continue to choose it.

That's another reason why I love the Raspberry lover.

Using my shirt collar, I wipe sweat off my face, as it just drips down like rain. My attention is drawn to the sight of her again walking through the gym coincidently. Thank God for Coach shifting his body to block my view from her glaring gaze on me or my skin would melt off from Gabrielle's bitterness.

"The biggest thing we fail to learn early in playing basketball is handling the ball during pressure," he rasps, with his faintly strained voice.

Coach eyes scans to each of us. "When we face defensive pressure, we don't know how to, one, protect the damn ball and, two, dribble behind our body and move."

"Coach, we learned this when we were like ten." Taylor breathes a chuckle, making us all laugh together a bit but Coach doesn't find that funny at all and passes the ball at his chest. "Show me then, Shawn and Xavier guard him up." Coach blows the whistle.

Taylor begins to maneuver down the court, handling his ball while Shawn gets in front him and steps forward. Taylor tenses up and turns but Xavier is in his way, making him lose coordination of the ball. Coach T picks it up and shakes his head.

Coach begins to dribble, one slammed bounce onto the court at a time. "See Taylor, when there is a heavy pressure on you, you are the ball handler on the court. Let's say you need to go up on the wing down the court. I don't just want to dribble there under pressure." He dribbles, showing his good skills.

"There is the five counts and there are traps. You can lose the ball, so don't expose the ball. You definitely got to move your defender side to side... Move up the court side while protecting the ball." He dribbles and we follow him.

"Jaylan... Marcus, move over here." He points to the three point line.

I move to the white line. "One, create space or two, break pressure. If I know I need to go over this wing-" he sweeps his hand to his basket side "-then I'm going to different places without exchanging hands. So I might call my play out first then come over." He dribbles, passing the ball to me.

Now I'm in position to make the shot. Swish.

"Okay, now Jaylan or any of you are in the position in the wing, to get into the hoop. Keep the ball in the pocket... " Coach points around the positioning and ends with the basketball rolling back to him.

He walks around all of us, looking at each one of us with a tender look. "You are all valuable when you know how to handle pressure in life rather than just having to deal with it and let it control you. There's a difference and, as you mature, you'll understand that less and more in life."

"Let's get back to work!" Coach blows our ears out again.

Even though Coach T can be extra, his words have weight and power. He has believed in us, something some of us never really had enough of when growing up. His goal is to grow us and challenge us to be better men in life, off the court as much as on.

Since being here, his words have been nothing but encouraging. You hear other coaches scream and holler at their players, which only leaves them discouraged. I think that's why I chose to go to UMD because other coaches felt like they were above me. Which, yes, authority-wise they are but I felt like they never had the best interest in me as a person compared to their own program.

That was the main reason why I chose to stay with UMD and not UNC.

Smirking at Marcus wrapping his arm around Coach T instead of practicing, I shake my head and practice my free throw shots.

We continue to practice, running drills and play for this Saturday's Elite Eight game against Mizzou. I can't wait to see and play face-to-face with my childhood friend Marquis. We used to play ball all the time after school. He is actually the one I first taught how to properly shoot a basket because Uncle Steve's arm would cramp up and I had to take him home for his arthritis.

I chuckle, thinking about how his arm just froze up and it was perfect timing to practice driving after he refused to take me. I definitely was part of his dings on that Santa Fe. I gotta get him a new one, if they still make them, when I get signed.

Coach blows the whistle loudly, making my ears ache to the core. Jordy is bopping his head and dancing with the basketball with Marcus.

Shaking my head with a smile spread across my face, at how lively and free spirited they keep the team vibe going. As I make another shot by the half court line perfectly. Hollis rebounds and passes back to me. He has been pushing so hard on the court but behind the scenes when all cameras and everyone are away. He is still regressing and struggling with his self image. I haven't been babysitting Hollis because he is a grown ass fucking man but I have been trying to help him through it in a healthy way.

I'm trying to push through the usual negative feelings of spring coming up. Every time, I just don't want to be alive or just don't want to feel anything about one particular day.

My phone vibrates in my pocket and I dig through my shorts pocket quickly and pull it out as my lips pull into a smile but it falls flat at the name I see in Facebook Messenger.

Paul Parker: Hey just checking in, haven't heard from you in awhile and nice rebound percentage.

Rereading the message, I swipe to delete it and shove my phone back in my pocket. Its damage is already done because my mind goes right back to my own sperm donor.

I don't understand PJ. I don't think I ever will and I don't think I want to. After sharing my gut-wrenching past to Lizzie, I've felt like I've been freed from him. However, it doesn't stop him from getting into my mind. He does that and I wish I could find a way to not succumb under his pressure of life. He doesn't have control over me but for some reason he always applies pressure, making it hard to keep control in my life.

I wish I knew how to handle him better. Because everytime he talks or breathes, I just get angry all over again that it's not him six feet under instead of my mom.

My mom deserves to be here...

My mom deserves to sit at every fucking game here...

My mom deserves to say, 'My baby is playing in the Final Four......'

My mom deserves to get to spend time with Lizzie.

My mom deserves to be here, not PJ.

I just wish I could better handle my anger towards PJ and channel it just to be able to live with the fact he is around. Basketball has helped for the most part but I feel like it's actually time to go to therapy. After getting off the phone with Yellow Ducky Toy Holder, Jordy and I had one of our midnight heart to heart chats.

We realize that going to therapy isn't a common thing in the Black community and wish it was provided for those of us who are struggling with our mental health. I've seen first-hand the benefits Hollis gets from his support group and there's no shame in needing it.

I mean, I know in the past I've put it off but I don't want to keep feeling like the memories I have struggled with about my mom haunt me. I just want to be in a healthier mindset, all the time and with Lizzie, and I just feel like it's time for me to take that direction and control my emotions instead of numbing them whenever they try to control me.

Making my last shot into the basket at the free throw line, Coach who blows the whistle again. He motions his hands over to close in.

"Alright, I'm letting you all off the hook for the rest of the day. Please don't make me change my mind.... Marcus." We all laugh because Marcus last night was on Bar Stool on Instagram doing body shots off Maxine and partying it up with her. She was in one of those moods. And he came late to practice after having a night of Maxine episodes.

Yeah, that cost us doing some suicides all morning.

Image is everything to Coach and we really can't be acting foolish while we are here, even though we are still young and dumb... We have to set an example, especially now that we are on national tv and younger kids are watching us to look up to us as role models.

Marcus rubs the back of his neck, holding back his smile, and Coach T presses his lips at him.

"On Three." Coach brings his hands in and we pile our sweaty hands on top.

"Terps." We all break.

Light chatter and relief filter through the gymnasium as guys leave.

"Jaylan, are you coming? I'm starving," Jordy whines, rubbing his stomach.

"Yeah, I'll be out in a minute. Let me put this away." I push the rack to the center of the gymnasium floor.

"Goody two shoes," he taunts.

I flip him off and he cackles jogging out the area. My eyes wander around the court, viewing the logo of NCAA logos and advertising brands everywhere. I still can't believe I'm here, living a dream that I never thought I could ever accomplish by myself without my mom.

Losing a parent, a lot of things just seem impossible, unbearable and painful to just do life. My mom was all I had no matter how much people have said, 'you have your aunt and uncle,' but it's just not the same. It's been so hard to think lately about life choices and I just wish I could have her tell me something to make life a little bit easier.

Like earlier during break, Under Armor wanted to do a commercial with me about my past living in an urban area and how it affected me growing up and succeeding. Mom would have given me the right words to say, about how her love for the city of Baltimore didn't affect her but grew her to be better than what the city schools offered her and me.

I just froze and said I needed more time to think.

Sighing heavily, I pick up a few more basketballs and place them on the rack.

I just wish I could be like her.

Bold, bubbly, warm, outgoing, and kind.

All I got from her personality is just friendliness. I bet Mom and Lizzie would get along so well, especially with their love for chocolate and people.

Damn.

Rubbing the back of my neck, I sigh deeply thinking about the little bubble bath celebrator or I should say, the vegetable month celebrator.

Shaking my head with a huge smile, I reflect back on her range of facial expressions. The look on her face last night was so priceless, with disgust and horror of the assorted vegetable pajamas I found on Amazon that I screenshotted it.

I also did some research, aka asked Jordy, if there are any days where we could celebrate vegetables together because the Asparagus Abolitionist said there were not really any but she failed to mention Celery Day, Carrot, Eat Your Veggies Day, and Vegetable Month.

Even in those silly ass pajamas, she still manages to look so sexy. I choked on my spit when she did that little peep show. Cobra shot up and even wanted to see more. I'm so glad I have Lizzie's towel photo to fill in my imagination.

I would love to hear her moan. I think next time I'm going to record her, with her permission and locked with a password of course, so anytime I travel in the near future, it just brings in the full effect.

Chuckling, I place the last ball on the rack. She had me laughing so long, with her cute, adorable, 'Jaylan, cut your nonsense out' face bringing a smile to my face. The more time I've spent with Lizzie over the phone lately, it just makes my heart grow more than I thought it would be able to for anyone.

I'm proud of Lizzie for speaking up and expressing how she feels. She cares a lot and I knew deep down she would ask about Hollis and Alexis eventually. I do wish things work out in their favor but it's ultimately up to them to fight for each other.

When Lizzie told me yesterday about that Hollister boy and his lack of help with their project, I knew it bothered her and I definitely don't want her to feel like that. Nobody wants to feel used for their hard work. Learning more about Lizzie, she deserves friends who will cherish her and not take advantage of her. The fact that Hollister boy doesn't see that in her blows my mind... It's his loss as a friend.

I wonder how her day is going anyway. It's Wednesday, any Wednesday means 'No Nonsense Jaylan Day' on her nursing school day. Interestingly enough, my only nonsense today was ordering her a surprise lunch from Chick Fil A during her lunch hour so can have a mini lunch date before she has to go back to class. Typically Lizzie likes to have those PB&J Smucker's Uncrustable sandwiches and barbecue chips. And, oh, I can't forget the Capri Sun...

Wild I know her routine like that.

I smirk, pushing the rack behind the black line and look up to see Coach T smiling with his arms crossed. "Just like your uncle," he says tenderly.

I give a faint smile and rub the back of my neck. "Thanks?" I perplex.

"Take it like a compliment, your uncle was always doing things lazy people won't." He laughs a bit.

"I mean everyone was hungry andddd the whistle." I chuckle, sticking up for my brothers.

He smacks his lips and cracks a smile, grumbling he should have made us stay longer.

"Y'all always act like you ain't eaten in a hundred years," Coach T roasts, beginning to collect the orange cones.

Smiling, I shake my head at his roast, and pick up some too.

"Do you need something, Coach?" I investigate, arching my brow.

"Just checking in on my players, is that a crime?" he teases with a toothy smirk.

"It is," I joke.

He throws an orange cone at me, landing it right on top of the ones in my hand.

Coach T smacks his lips and presses them. "Well, since it is a crime, I just wanted to check in on your well-being after you know... the incident with Paul." He scratches his head.

I nod, placing the orange cones on the ground and standing up to stretch. He looks at me, concern on his face as he's reading mine.

"I'm living with it, dealing with it," I deflect, shrugging my shoulders.

"I know," Coach T softly says and still studies my face.

"He is always going to be a part of me, unfortunately." I sigh dismally.

Coach T pauses, rubs his chin, then places his hand on his hips. He lets out a deep breath and looks right into my eyes with compassion.

"Jaylan, just because he is a part of you doesn't mean he has to be in your life... I know I don't have much room to say about your personal life but... You have given him too many chances and I think it's time to let it go...He doesn't deserve to be a part of your life if he can't accept that you don't want that lifestyle anymore," he expresses.

Agreeing, I look down at my Black Nike Airs and soak in his fatherly advice. Mom wanted PJ and I to get along and him to love me but sometimes you can't just force anyone to love if they don't want to. It took me forever to learn that with my experiences with him.

I'm sure she is still heartbroken how nothing has changed since she left us. "I know... but my mom wanted that."

"I know your mom wanted it but she wanted a healthy way for you, Jay," he tosses back.

He is right because Mom wanted PJ and I to be like the other fathers and sons at school. I remember last Thanksgiving how she wanted us to all do the turkey trot together at the YMCA like all the other families for Aunt Lisa's fundraiser to help kids go to summer camp. He tried the whole family thing but it was only short lived when everyone gave Uncle Steve and I attention on our matching shirts, he opted out of wearing. Mom tried so hard for us but he just didn't want to try her way but his way, leaving us all hurt and broken.

My shoulders slump a bit. "I don't think that's even possible."

"One day it might, when he realizes he had his chance it's going to be too late," Coach T points out.

"Yeah, I guess when I have money right, big mansion." I laugh sarcastically.

Coach chuckles and shakes his head. "No, because you are living his dream that he couldn't," he reveals.

He is right. PJ blew his chances of becoming the biggest point guard in basketball history. He actually had numerous scholarships in the DMV area but he chose the street life like some kids who get wrapped up in Baltimore. He had ways out. He had support from his family... He had support from my mom, even though she was pregnant with me, but he believed what his friends told him, he couldn't achieve getting out of the hood. And now that he sees me living what he could have had... He will try anything to ruin it because it's not him but me.

"But he could have had this... It wasn't like my mom was holding him back. Mom told him so many times he could have gone to school and she would stay back. It's almost like he blames me for his life choices HE made...... I just... it's frustrating," I stress.

Coach T puts his hand on my shoulder, my vision blurs and I look away from him. "It's not fair, you're right," he soothes.

I clear my throat as I feel lumps of anger and sadness forming, making it hard to breathe. "I hate him," I say sharply.

Coach sighs deeply, allowing silence to fill in between us. "I know what he's done to you is unfair but one day it will challenge you to be the father that you always wanted for yourself."

He pats my chest at my heart space, making me crack a soft smile. "Just know you have a lot of people proud of you, I'm proud of you Jaylan. You are not PJ and you will never be. I'm here for you and in your corner."

"Thanks, Coach T," I softly say, my eyes filling up with tears.

Unexpectedly, Coach gets me a hug and I hug him back. He pats my back. A tear escapes from my eyes as relief relaxes my tight chest. Lizzie's right... There are people who care for and love me.... I need to read one of her letters.

He pulls away and smiles, wraps his arm around my neck, and playfully tugs me in. "Anytime, just remember me in like a couple months when you get that first paycheck," he teases with a big smile.

I suck my teeth as we laugh and walk out the gym, where a couple of reporters linger. We slowly maneuver away to avoid anybody asking us questions about the game with Mizzou this weekend. And in my opinion... TRASH.

"I'll see you around, Jay." Coach waves and I wave to him too.

A light, airy feeling spreads across my chest and I take a deep breath. Lifting up my head, my eyes search for Jordy because he typically likes to wait for me. I do see his fade with a small star on the side of it in memory of his brother. Alexis did a pretty good job on her last night here last night.

That whole situation is still messy because after everything that went down... Hollis still had a slip up with some girl at Temple University. I wish he hadn't but I hope he will learn from it.

Jordy turns, looking back and revealing a familiar pair of dark brown eyes. Long, fake lashes flutter at me and back at Jordy. Jordy waves happily and motions me over, pointing at Gabrielle.

Fuck... Jordy, no.

I cuss inwardly, grumbling as I drag my feet while walking over to them. Of course, Jordy would be excited to see his cookie baker from high school. Even though I told him a million times what she brought over was not homemade but store bought, he probably still refuses to believe it.

Approaching, she takes in all of me, making me feel uncomfortable at how she is observing me. Considering it's been exactly two years since we've last seen each other here at March Madness in my sophomore year, we're not even remotely close anymore. If this was sophomore me, I would have entertained this little show and used it to my advantage just to toy with her mind as she did with me. However, all those petty things don't matter anymore because I don't want anything to do with her anymore.

She presses her lips into a smile that looks entirely fake and folds her arms, making sure I can see her ring. She swipes her long lace front, probably across her shoulders, and steps back on her heel in a 'you ain't shit' posture.

I know she is waiting for a response from me with her fake attitude so all I do is straighten up my posture, confusing her a bit and flexing my maturity. I do feel like I've grown up these last couple of months, not because of Lizzie but because I feel more comfortable not having to hide who I am. Gabrielle has no leverage on me anymore, like she did in the past, now that I've stopped all contact with PJ.

Aunt Lisa couldn't have been happier with me finally severing ties with Gabrielle. Aunt Lisa just knew from the beginning she wasn't right for me from the way Gabrielle geared away from grieving my mom.

I scratch my head and look at Jordy, who is smiling from ear to ear. "Can you believe it?"

"Yeah," I dryly say. "You ready to go?"

"So, you are not going to say hi, Jaylan?" She cranes her neck at me with a wider smile that still looks as genuine as when I tell Coach T I wish he'd blow the whistle more.

"Hi Gabrielle," I acknowledge and slant my eyes a bit.

She laughs, looking down and then at Jordy. "Well, Jordy, it's nice seeing you again, and... umm, you too, Jay," she velvets her voice but it doesn't really do anything for me anymore.

"Bye, Gabby. I'll try to stop by tomorrow tonight," he says excitedly.

Gabrielle walks past me, brushing her shoulder against mine and bumping her ass near me, making me snap my hips away. In the process, she somehow manages to stick something in my pocket.

"You are not going," I assert.

I look back as Gabrielle moves in the crowd with an extra swish in her hips, looking over her shoulder but the stare I give her is nothing but emotionless. She lets out a deviant smirk and I look the other way. One look back at Jordy shows he's texting on his phone.

Jordy whines, "But Jaylan, there are going to be the bad bitches there, like bad bad," he tries to convince me at the end.

I dig through my pocket to see a hotel card and condom, with a note saying, 'I want to see you tonight.' Shaking my head, I go over to the nearest trash can and toss all that shit so she can see this isn't a game anymore.

Jordy continues to babble on about how he never gets any play like I do and I just shake my head as we approach the exit, leaving through the crowd. I felt like she watches us the whole time but I keep my eyes forward. I really don't want her to be a problem while we are out here.

Slanting my eyes at him, he pouts like his wonder twin. "No Jordy, she's only doin' it to get close to me."

"She doesn't care about your big ass head. She is engaged," Jordy defends.

"Look, I'm just looking out for you," I vouch. "It's not in your best interest, trust me."

He sucks his teeth and pouts, folding his arms, and I chuckle at him. "You owe me when we win."

Smirking, I pat his back and he opens the door pushing it with another huff and puff. "I know I do."

He grumbles under his breath that he never gets to have fun and I laugh, pulling him close to me as we walk down the street.

"How did she find you anyway?" I curiously say.

"She just approached me, I'm not just not going to say hi. We went to school together," he says genuinely, shrugging.

Why do my best friend and girlfriend see the good in people?

I shake my head. "Nah, she's trouble and you already know where my heart is."

"Have you talked to Lizzie about her? You guys dooo have history." Jordy touches a sore spot, sounding like Donkey from Shrek.

"Not yet, I mean she knows about her but Gabrielle's not worth opening those can of worms and having Lizzie worried." I rub the back of my neck.

"I mean, I would tell her now since, well, she is coming up here in case y'all run into each other again," he tosses back.

"True, I just don't want Lizzie to worry. She's already got Ava to deal with," I grumble.

Thank God she has not bothered Lizzie, and probably took Maxine and Alexis' threats into consideration because they will be coming here soon for the Final Four. And she probably doesn't want a broken nose on national television.

"True but she does trust you, right?" he says, as we step foot into the hotel.

Trust me... Yeah, Lizzie trusts me whole lot and honestly... I trust her too. I'm really proud of myself for building the foundation we have started. I mean, I have told her mostly everything and still I feel like if I lay it all out there, I have no reason to hide anything, which as of right now is just how my mom died.

"Yeah, she trusts me," I softly say.

"Okay then... Lay it all out," he says, swirling his hands in the air.

I chuckle softly and look down at my feet. "I really do love Lizzie."

"You don't say..." Jordy gasps, holding his feet like an earthquake.

Cracking a smile, I shove him playfully. "How do you know?"

"If you call her in the morning, celebrate National Words Matter Week... wear corn dog socks... on top of letting her spend time with Aunt Lisa and Uncle Steve... Yeah, you love the girl." He laughs at the end.

"Is it a bad thing?" I perplex.

"No... I think it's a good thing... Just remember, I'm the best man, not Marcus,'' Jordy jokes, slanting his eyes and pointing both thumbs at his chest.

Chuckling, I relax my shoulders and rub the back of my neck. "I'll remember, Jordy."

"Good, because I got the bachelor party all planned... Can you say Magic City?" He spreads his hands like a rainbow.

Shaking my head, I can see it now... And not the strip club he's talking about.

Wait a damn minute.

I hold my chest at my heart speaking a little too loud. Marriage? Lizzie?

Jordy continues about the strip club tour he's been dying to go to in Atlanta as we walk to the hotel room. My brain hasn't moved past my previous thought and, before I realize we're back in the hotel, I sit down on the bed. Moving on their own, my eyes shift over to see the photo of my mom and I. Hanging my head down low, my chest tightens.

I wish I could just talk to her.

Just for a day.

My phone lights up, drawing my attention to see some stats but the one thing that has my attention is the broccoli queen.

I thumb over the screen at her beaming face, my background picture of that ass sitting on my shoulders because she had to have her Pinterest Photo. I shift my eyes and look at the big Ziplock bag of letters on my bedside table and the effort she put into them makes my heart thump harder.

I stick my hand in there and look at the beautiful handwriting. One strikes an interest. Maybe it expresses how I'm feeling this morning...

"You use to call me on my cellphoneeeee!" Jordy howls.

I laugh, shaking my head and looking at Lizzie's beautiful cursive handwriting.

When you feel like you can't think.

Opening up the envelope, I pull out the letter and big pieces of question marks fall out, making me laugh at how she really perfectly made question marks and turned them into confetti. I lean on my side with my elbow and begin to read the words.

When you can't think,

Thinking requires courage not intelligence. When you feel like you can't think... Think of what you know, and go with your heart like you always do and communicate because you are better at it than me.

I'm sorry things are swirling around you like candy cane stripes that seem endless but just know whatever decision or thing that's bothering you, just know you will always make the right choice. And I hope this photo helps to make you think better.

Oh, and there is a thinking cap too. It's in your side pocket, be careful the spinner is kind of broken because Maxine broke it because she was tired of thinking... not sure why I'm writing that.

Until Next Time,

Your Novia... which means girlfriend. Photo is glued on the other side.

Turning the letter, my breath hitches at the photo of a selfie of her eyes looking toward the side and one of her tiny fingers tapping on her cheek like she is trying to think. She has on this black cami and her hair is softly curled. She always takes my breath away. Warmth spreads across my chest, knowing she probably took a hundred selfies to make sure the angle of her eyes was right.

"Ever since the city you, got a reputation for yourself now!" Jordy screams louder as the shower still runs.

Chuckling and shaking my head at the shower concert, I take a deep breath, shift my eyes to the closet, and get up from the bed. I go to the closet, grab my duffle bag on the shelf, and dig my hand on the side.

I pull out the hat exactly where she said it was. It's in a Ziplock bag. Her and these Ziplock bags. She definitely made sure my time is well spent while being there.

I love her for that.

I softly chuckle, looking at the rainbow-colored beanie hat and pulling it out. I spin the spinner, thinking of how Lizzie really believes this thing works. I place it on my head and surprisingly it fits. I smirk at myself in the mirror, looking like a damn idiot, but for her... It's worth it.

I go back to the bed, take my phone and immediately take a photo for the thinking cap girl with one hand rubbing my chin. Smirking at the photo, I send it to her and also door dash my Chick-Fil-A order as well.

"Running out of pages in your passport!" Jordy passionately sings, coming out with a towel wrapped around his waist.

Shaking my head and laughing as his concert comes into the hotel room, he stops mid-song, dead in his tracks, and with wide eyes looking at my head. "How the heck did you get that? I looked everywhere for one!" he wails.

"Lizzie." I smirk and give the propeller a small spin. She was right, it only goes halfway around and stops.

He slants his eyes at me and grumbles that I don't deserve a thinking hat. "Marry her or I will."

My eyes widen and look down when Lizzie texts me back. My lips pull up into a smile as I can hear preschool voice in excitement.

Giggles🧸: It Fits!!!!! Did it work though? I hope it worked

It definitely works and it's got me thinking more about how I want our future to continue.

Edited and spiced by still_just_me 

Everyone please checks out her story It's Just Phone Sex! It's on Wattpad's Featured List and I promise you will not be disappointed in June and Damian's journey <3

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Extremely thankful for everyone's patience's and the new readers beginning this book!

I promise I'll continue to update!