A/N: I apologize for the late update. I'll be honest, I lost my drive to continue this story. It took me reading other stories and even beating myself up a little, to regain the confidence to continue. Therefore, I made this chapter extra long to make up for it. I hope you guys like it!
____________

Life. Four letters that has every bit of power the imagination cannot even decipher. Blessings, love, happiness, gloom, evil, disaster, all apart of life. Life is just another one of those four letter words that scares the hell out of you, while exciting you all the more. It's beautifully insane how we try to ponder the word. It's even more gravely insane how we choose to live it.

"I don't think they look cute anyways. You know she's only with him because she's desperate..." I sigh into my earphone, scrolling through Ashanti Lamb's Instagram page.

It's a nice Friday night and I'm stuck home, exiled to boredom. Luckily, my best-iest friend in the world, Laylah, decided to help a lonely girl out and call for a late night chat. During these chats, we people bash and drool over pictures of fantasy babes, or whatever else crosses our minds in the moment.

These chats are definitely essential for my existence in my less than animated life.

"Yeah, Derrick could definitely do better. I mean she's how old? A little ass girl... He's going to jail!" She cackles, her laughter a little too high-pitched for my well plugged earbuds.

I wince aloud and violently pull the earbuds out of my ears to save my eardrums from combusting. After five minutes and her voice no longer coherent through the earbuds speakers, I sigh in relief and return them to my ears.

"Damn you so freaking loud! It really makes no sense!" I scowl, shaking my head as of she could see.

Light laughter is her only response before she sighs aloud and begins to speak on another subject.

"So guess what?" She suddenly chirps.

I roll my eyes and chuckle. This girl here has to be ADHD or something. She's way too hyper for her own good. Then again, I have my moments too. I guess it's safe to say, those who are crazy, match together.

Okay, so maybe that isn't the saying.

Oh well.

"What child? What could have you possibly shaking on your bunny slippers?" I giggle.

Catching her giggles as well and an inaudible squeal, her voice finally enters my ears.

"Well, I found out some interesting information about our boy... The devil child..." She lulls, obviously trying to build my interest.

She isn't completely failing.

"And..." I push for more, exiting my Instagram to check Vine for any updates.

"Well... Let's just say he has a familiar lady interest. And she might or might not be surprisingly interested in him also..." She throws out little hints, trailing off a bit.

That definitely caught my attention.

I know Laylah. She isn't the girl that falls for Harry Balls, Dingy Darrel, or Dick Face. She likes intellectuals. She isn't picky, but she has standards. I have to give it to the girl, she keeps her self in check to deserve those standards. So hearing that little miss thang' might or might not have a crush, on somebody we should know, is a surprise to me.

"Okay. Details Heffa!" I find myself squeal.

This should be marked down in history.

On this day, of this year, Laylah Roberts confessed her attraction for a certain someone. Not only does she like him, but he is presumed to have mutual feelings. What a day.

"Okay, Okay. Don't be a asshole. Now, when I tell you. You have to keep calm and not fuss or badger me about it. Okay?" She stresses, seemingly genuine with her concern for seriousness and solemn.

"Okay... I promise. No fussing. Now tell me." I eagerly push.

She sighs once more before nearly whispering into the phone.

"Cadence. He likes me. And I... I kinda, sorta like him also..." She spills.

My jaw drops. My head spins for a moment or two. These to devilish beings actually have feelings for each other? How in the hell does that work? To polar opposites actually attract? I thought was vile and fabricated to make young idiots feel like they are in love.

A definite mind blower.

"Cadence, as in Cadence James?" I question in bewilderment, still trying to wrap my head around the thought.

I even take another moment to try to picture them together. Instead of a pretty picture of them embracing and swapping saliva, a image of them chopping each other's heads off, with burning fire surrounding them, pops up instead.

Dear Lord.

"Yes! I know... It's crazy. But as much as the damn boy irks my nerves and gets under my skin, I actually like it. I mean the dude has his sweet moments and even his funny moments... I just... God..." She continues, trailing off in her gawk.

I think I just internally puked.

Laylah and Cadence? Is that even humanely possible? Has hell froze over already? Has the rapture already began? Is Jesus really already coming for all?

Okay, I'm being a little over dramatic, but all of those things might as well happen if Laylah and Cadence actually like wage other or worse, get together and start dating.

Bleh.

"Earth to Amari! Are you there?" Laylah interrupts my terribly frightened and wondering mind.

"Yes, girl are you sure about all of this? I mean you and Cadence? I don't know..." I honestly voice my concern.

I love my girl Laylah, and because I love her, I am honest with her. Those two are polar opposites but also oddly the same.
Instead of fire and ice, they are a fire and a flame. Just put stain on the two and there's bound to be a trail of damage to clean up.

The ash is in their personalities. Laylah is too intelligent and focused (educational wise at least) for a not so focused, egotistical basketball dreamer like Cadence. In my opinion it's a terrible match.

I hope she can see that as well.

"So what, you don't think we would mix?" She assumes.

"Exactly. You two are just... Different. I love you, girl, but it just wouldn't work." I confess my honest thoughts.

I'm sure she'll counter my claims or shut me off in a storm of denial and lost dreams. Either way I'll take the hits, just as long as she knows the truth.

She'll be just fine.

"And why would we work? Because he wants to be a baller? Are you doubting your own friend? He my standards! Maybe not all of my intellectual standards, but he's up there." She tries to argue her point, seemingly trying to convince more of herself than me.

Poor girl.

"Laylah, listen to yourself. This is good ass Cadence, he only wants to play basketball, he doesn't even want a relationship. Basketball is his wife and you'll just be a mistress." I stress, plopping onto my pillows to relieve the building stress in my neck.

"Well I'd be a damned happy mistress then. Why can't you be like the friends on TV and tell me to go for it? That would be real nice right now." She pouts.

"Two reasons. One, this is real life and two, I don't secretly want your crush. I want you happy, that's all." I try to convey my point.

What a fail.

"Maybe being with Cadence will make me happy?" She continues whining like a small child.

This chick right here.

"If you keep doing that, I'm going to hang up..." I warn, glancing at the time on my phone.

One-twenty in the morning. I should've been sleep. But hell, it's Saturday tomorrow and I have zero plans for the next few hours of the day.

"Well, fine. I'll just go to sleep and dream about my babes Cadence..." She jokes teasingly.

"Keep playing and I'mma tell his ass about your little fantasies..." I play along.

"Yes, tell daddy mama has been fantasizing and needs the real thing!" She squeals, her high-pitch laughter soon following.

I couldn't help but burst into laughter as well. I love this girl. She's such a character.

"Okay... I'll make sure to tell him to bring the licorice handcuffs also! He'll love that!" I continue add on, earning another roar and an unexpected high pitch screech of laughter from her.

"Nooo shit... We are too damn stupid. I'm takin my ass to bed on that note." She manages to choke out in between her cackles.

I shake my head in shear amusement and nod in agreement as if she could see me.

It is indeed time to retire for the night, or morning in our case.

"Alright La La, I'm out. Goodnight. Keep it safe. Wrap it up. Don't talk to strangers, all that jazz..." I conclude, sitting up to slip under the covers.

"Alright Heffa... Same to you. Night." She sighs finally over her laughing episode.

I chuckle one last time before tapping End and returning my cellphone onto my night stand and double checking to make sure the charger is connected. Too many times have I made the mistake of falling asleep without my cellphone charge.

What hell that is.

Coming up with the security and assurance that my cellphone is indeed receiving some juice for the night, I sigh happily and shift in my bed for a comfortable sleeping position.

Upon finding that position, I giggle once more at Laylah's and I conversation before finally tossing it and allowing my eyelids to become heavy.

What a way to start the weekend.

___________________

"So what you're telling me is, you'll be gone a lot and I'll be stuck home... Alone?" I glance up from my bowl of Frosted Flakes in question.

Her head whips around dangerously. Her eyes heading the warning that will soon follow verbally. She's obviously stressed and tired. Which makes my mini interrogation a bit of a "adding insult to injury" type of situation. Even with acknowledging this, I can't help but want to know.

Why is Melinda Jackson trying to take longer office hours? We are financially stable, well at least I think so.

God this is annoying.

"I'm a grown ass woman, you don't question what I do. Got that?" She claims, her voice just as threatening as her almonds.

Discreetly rolling my eyes, I nod and continue facing my now soggy bowl of cereal.

I just don't understand her. She's so standoffish. We don't argue a lot not do we get along a lot. Our relationship is platonic, my mothers and I. We can have those moments of peace, but it's mostly a "I stay out of your way, you stay out mine" kind of deal. It's been emotionally hard to deal with. Mainly because I don't have my father here to confide in.

I'm alone in this. I hate feeling alone.

"Besides, I'm working for a raise. You like nice things right? Well I have to pay for those nice things. So I'm not about to baby your ass because you don't want to be alone. I swear sometimes you don't even act your age..." She continues her rant.

This is where I zone out.

Her lips her moving, but not a damn word can I hear. I wish I could just yell for her to hush already. Why do parents feel the need to go on and on about things? I heard you the first third or fourth time, no need for you to reiterate how many ways I have pissed you off.

Just makes no sense to me.

"Oh and Rodger called, he said he wants to know more about graduation..." I zone back in to catch.

Rodger Lee Jackson, my humble and laconic father. Not as verbose as my mother, but don't let that fool you. He's just as terrible as that crazed woman. They divorced when I was ten. Although the divorce was a clean one, their relationship isn't daisies and cotton candy. She has her opinions and he has his, which causes the constant bumping of heads.

But should it be needed, they do mostly come to an agreed compromise and pull through appropriately.

Mother refers to him as Rodger, because that keeps his bitch quiet. Regina is her name. She's pretty nice, but very catty. I'm okay with her, but mother, for obvious reasons isn't.

Regina is the woman that you hate to love, but love to hate. She has her moments where a little bleach in her lemonade wouldn't sound so malicious, or a nice conversation will suffice for my reluctant acceptance that she's a part of our life.

Either way it goes, my family and life is as backwards as it can get. Nonetheless, I manage to keep it together.

"I'll call him later I guess." I sigh, scooting my chair from the table.

She silently nods and continues washing her own cereal bowl. Sighing at the sudden silence, I continue towards her and drop my bowl into the dishwasher (which she fails to use) and continue on my way.

Heading towards my bedroom, I remove my cellphone from my joggers pocket and check my notifications for anything.

A few post from different people I follow on Twitter. A few likes on a recent picture of mine on Instagram. A Facebook mention? Finally, two text messages from Cadence and Imani.

Ignoring the text from Imani, a girl who literally doesn't serve any relevance in my life other than a headache and migraine, that loves to send me random chain messages. I honestly don't even know how the girl discovered my number, but I would block her; if she had an iPhone.

Sliding left on the text message from Cadence, I type in my four-digit code and prepare myself for something stupid and idiotic. By now, I have managed to make it back to my bedroom in record time to get nice and comfy. You have to be comfortable enough to deal with his childishness.

"Can we talk?" I read aloud.

Can we talk? That's it? No damn good morning or anything?

Well then.

Sighing aloud, I respond with a simple "sure" and was air his text bubbles. Instead, my "playful" ringtone rings annoyingly throughout the room, revealing his contact photo.

I groan out in annoyance, cursing myself for not silencing my cellphone beforehand. Once I'm done whining about the inconvenience of my ringer, I tap Answer.

"Sup Bon the asshole?" I answer curtly.

Not a second later his sigh of annoyance graces my ears, only earning a giggle from me in response.

I love annoying his ass.

"It's too early for your shit Jackson. Anyways, what's up with Laylah? Why is she snapchatting about crushes and shit? Who the hell has thawed the ice queen?" He asks, chuckling at his own insult.

I roll my eyes. He knows exactly whys she's acting like that.

Boys, I swear.

"Boy... Don't act dumb. You know why." I scuff knowingly.

"Amari, I wouldn't be calling you about this if I already knew. Now stop being... You for a second and tell me what's up with your little devil." He stresses.

Oh shit, he's serious.

This isn't looking so good for my girl.

"Um... I think she should tell you. It's not my place." I sigh heavily.

I can't sell her out. I would never do that to my girl. She has to tell him on her own.

"Amari..." He breaths, obviously agitated with the whole conversation.

Should I? Would it be wrong? I mean he's my friend as well. He deserves to know.

Oh God.

"She thinks you like her... And you know the rest..." I finally spill.

Me and my big mouth.

His line falls silent. Even his breaths are inaudible. I hope he doesn't snap, or worse, embarrass the poor girl. They are both my friends and I don't want neither of them to be hurt.

"I wasn't even... Damn. This shit is crazy. She seriously thinks I like her?" He finally questions.

Nah, she thinks you hate her. Idiot.

"What do you think?" I sarcastically retort.

"I don't. I don't know who even told her that. Damn. How do I get out of this?"

"Why the hell are you asking me. I'm just as clueless as you! Look, just talk to her and be honest... She'll understand." I advise, already picturing her hanging him from a stake.

"You know damn well she'll have me hanging by my damn balls..." He huffs, a hidden fear deep in that statement.

That's fairly true. The girl has a touch of psychopath in her. In all honesty, all girls do.

"Well Romeo... Wait it out until Monday. Until then, I have to go. Talk to ya later playa'!" I chirp, quickly ending the conversation before he could rebuttal my false claim.

Tossing my cellphone onto my bed, I shake my head at the situation. This should be a very interesting upcoming week.

Vote. Comment. Share!