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Rated: 13+ · Chapter · Teen · #1042653
Chapter 2 of the Saga, Kyla's boyfriend is showing his true colors
Chapter 2

The days seemed to run together as any vacation from school does, and Kyla found it hard to keep track of what day it was. She spent those days playing basketball, passing out on trampolines and falling asleep in the glow of Tray’s big screen television. Rasheed invaded her thoughts pretty often, yet pride, and her boyfriend, kept her from asking about him.
Jamel had been in Kyla’s life for about five months now, whom she had met at a basketball game before the summer started. He was a 6’1 butter pecan toned juggernaut on the court, and was what Kyla viewed as a hoe-magnet. She laughed when he would waltz down the hallway and girls would beg to touch his washboard abs or throw sexual references his way.
“Look at his dick swing in those basketball shorts girl!” someone said from behind her. Kyla was too preoccupied with searching her land-fill locker for a social studies book to look, but his close-to-perfect body never meant much to her. He was cute in a Chico Dubarge kind of way, but she didn’t give him the time of day at first.
Him and his boys would line the wall of lockers right outside of Mr. Miller's history class and wait for her to change her books. At first he just stood there like a superstar, flashing his teeth and kissing girls on the forehead like he was a red carpet veteran, but noticed that Kyla paid no attention to him. She said he occasional 'excuse me' when there were too many bodies to walk right through, but other than that, she had never breathed a word to him. Kyla set herself apart by ignoring him, and soon after, he started walking her to class, leaving love letters in her books, and even skipping basketball to come to her volleyball practices sometimes.
Their relationship was okay for the most part, but he always seemed to be on another page than her. He was always yelling about seeing her with someone else, or complaining about never giving him compliments. Despite their differences, she couldn’t deny that he was there for her. Anything Kyla needed, he had it, and if he didn’t, he got it. Honestly, the emotional aspect of their relationship was nonexistent. He had his moments when he could be the sweetest and interesting person but those times were few and far between. In reality, he was little more than a support system, and your average twenty minutes on the phone.
“Kyla! Jamel is here!” Kyla’s mom yelled from downstairs.
“He chooses the strangest times to pop up and never takes a minute to call first!” Kyla thought to herself walking down the stairs. This made her think that he was aiming to catch her entertaining someone else but never worked.
Kyla found Jamel sitting on a stool in the kitchen sipping on a glass of kool-aid and her mother pulling a wind-breaker out of the closet.
“Its 7:45, I’m going to the grocery store for a couple things, I’ll be back soon. Ya’ll BE GOOD” she stressed looking straight at Jamel.
“Oh you don’t gotta worry about me Ms. Montgomery. I ain’t like that.” He said with a kool-aid mustache.
“Unhuh” she smiled, walking out of the garage door. Jamel followed Kyla to the den where they normally spent most of their time when he came over. They both plopped down on the couch tangling their limbs in each others while flipping through the channels. When the both of them settled on an episode of ‘Martin’ the door bell rang.

“Wonder who that is” Kyla thought aloud, sashaying to the door. Upon opening it, two neighborhood boys, Tray and Ashton stood bare chest, sticky with sweat, swatting mosquitoes away.
“Sup kid?” Ashton spoke, leaning his head against the shirt wrapped around his shoulders.
“Nothing.” Kyla mumbled.
“Aren’t you gonna let us in? I KNOW you got something to eat up in there!” Tray coughed. After taking a worried look down the hall, Kyla held the door open for them to come in. Even though Jamel was so into her, it didn’t take much to get him jealous; luckily, he never caused scenes. Kyla sat on a stool at the island in the middle of the kitchen watching the boys lay into boxes of Gushers, and pecan swirls from the snack cabinet.
“I can use the bathroom?” Ashton asked, crumbs falling from his lip.
“Yeah, go ahead, but be quiet. Jamel is here.” Kyla almost whispered.
“Fuck him. I gotta piss!” he garbled, almost running down the hall.
“Ya’ll still go together?” Tray asked, standing next to her.
“Yeah. I don’t know why though.” Kyla reflected, glancing down the hall again.
“If you don’t like him, why you still with his old Prince lookin’ ass?” Tray asked leaning up against the sink.
“He don’t look like Prince! You just mad because nobody likes YOU!” Kyla laughed opening a small bag of Doritos.
“Man, I only deal with grown women. He don’t got game as thorough as mine…But I ain’t hatin’. That’s your man. I heard a couple that shave their legs together stay together.” Tray snickered.
“Whatever, you just stay over there.” Kyla said scooting her stool in the opposite direction.
“Oh you don’t wanna touch me?!” Tray smirked, hugging Kyla’s head.
“ILL!!” Kyla yelled almost falling out of her stool. Before she had a chance to wipe the funk off and stop laughing, the front door slammed.
“Your boyfriend just left” Ashton said walking in, scratching the back of his head. Kyla darted through the door to try to talk him down, but couldn’t figure out which direction he went in. All that was outside was a few barking dogs, street lights, and mosquitoes. She stayed out there for a few moments wondering if he’d left because he was tired of waiting, or if he was eavesdropping their conversation.

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“What’s wrong honey? Where’s Jamal?” Kyla’s mom asked, glancing at her with Harris Teeter bags in hand.
“That punk just left” Tray said helping put groceries away.
“I like him, but he seems like he’s moody baby, you might wanna watch out for him.”
“Aren’t you just waiting for him to act up so we can beat his ass?” Ashton muttered next to Tray, reaching to put away a can of Spaghetti-O’s.
“I’ma beat YOUR ass, you keep cursing in my house!” momma laughed.
© Copyright 2005 CandyKane (azuretearz at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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