"I swear to God! You're an idiot" she giggled as she straddled me, twisting two strands of my short dreadlocks together. I brought the cigar to my lips and took a puff, neither breathing in nor out for a few seconds. I swallowed the thick smoke then breathe it out through my nostrils.
It was almost therapeutic.
Between a mother who was on my ass 247 about upholding the reputation of being the son of a prominent minister and a deadbeat dad who only knows how to throw fists, I needed all the peace I could get.
She was the light in my dark world.
There was something about her. If you didn't know her then you'd think she was an antisocial snob—she was, but only on a few days and to a specific group of people. I vividly remember the day we met.