brooks seat

Candid (Pinkberry Drabble)

@twinkjeremyheere said:

8. Breathtaking Kiss ~pinkberry maybe?

umm,, hell yes? thank you so much for requesting my girls??

also, daffodils and sunsets are the official pinkbery aesthetic now :/ sorry :/

Pairing: Brooke Lohst/Chloe Valentine

Words: 993

Category: fluff/first kiss/chloe is a big gay

Freshman year of college was coming to an end. Chloe and Brooke chose the same school, just like they always planned. And they were roommates, (oh my god they were roommates) just like they always planned. Before they started school, everyone warned them against living together. “You’ll hate each other,” they said. “You’ll want to kill each other,” “You’ll never look at her the same.” And maybe they were right, but it wasn’t quite the way Chloe was expecting.

She sat on the grass in the courtyard waiting for Brooke one May afternoon, the last week of classes. The sun sat low in the sky, teasing at the beautiful sunset that was bound to occur this time of year. Chloe heard footsteps from behind her, causing her to turn her head in search of the source. “Hey! Sorry to keep you waiting,” Brooke said as she half-ran towards Chloe, fiddling with her camera.

“How fucking dare you,” Chloe said, standing up. Brooke looked up at her in fear for a second, opening her mouth to apologize. “Brooke,” Chloe stopped her before she could start. “I’m kidding.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.” she shook her head, pressing a few buttons on her camera and making faces at the screen. “I’m still trying to figure out how the hell this thing works,” she was doing pretty well with photography in school. Her parents were so impressed they got her a new camera. It was probably the happiest Chloe had ever seen her. She’d been playing with it non-stop since, always begging her friends to let her take pictures of them. Even though they were best friends, this was the first time Brooke had asked to do pictures of Chloe. “Okay, I think I got it.” she looked through the viewfinder. “That…looks right?” she asked.

“I don’t know, does it?” Chloe asked with a chuckle.

“I think so. Here, I’ll do a test shot.” without further warning, Brooke snapped a picture, pulling away from the camera to look at the result. “Yay! I got it right!” she grinned. “Okay, now pose.”

“What?” Chloe asked, running a hand through her hair and laughing nervously.

“Pose! Do something, be cute!” Brooke gestured wildly with her hands as she spoke. Chloe awkwardly put her hand on her hip, plastering on a cheesy smile. Brooke took the camera from her face and shot Chloe an angry expression. “If you’re not gonna take this serious-”

“Oh my god, Brooke. I am serious.” Chloe groaned, putting her hands on her head.

“You look so good in your selfies!” Brooke argued back.

“Yes, because I’m in control of them. I don’t know how to let another person take a picture of me!” Brooke rolled her eyes.

“Okay, fine. Wait here.” she stomped away, disappearing behind a nearby building. A couple minutes passed by. Then some more. Then some more. The sky started to turn pink and orange, casting gold beams onto the trees and buildings around campus. Chloe made the universal ‘what the fuck’ hand signal and looked around.

“Brooke,” she called. “Ugh,” she checked her phone, refreshing everything for some kind of message. Nothing. “Brooke?”

“I’m here!” she yelled, running across the courtyard towards Chloe.

“What the hell, Brooke?” Chloe asked, slightly charmed at Brooke’s messy hair and tank top straps falling off her shoulders.

“Here, I got you this.” she thrust a handful of daffodils into Chloe’s hands, immediately backing up and lifting the camera to her face.

“What? Why?” Chloe giggled, looking at the flowers.

“I picked them!” she sounded proud of herself, but very well aware she was being silly. She snapped photo after photo of Chloe looking at the flowers, laughing.

“Why did you-”

“I thought you might look better in candids, but I had to get you to smile first.” Chloe’s expression changed, one snapshot at a time. First she was laughing, then smiling, looking down, then the smile fell a bit. Her eyes turned upwards, directly at Brooke. Her eyes were big and round, her cheeks were pink as the sky behind her. Then she was getting closer, walking towards Brooke. Then she was there. She moved the camera from Brooke’s face, cupping the short girl’s cheeks in her free hand.

Then they were kissing. Brooke froze completely. Her brain shattered like glass. Chloe’s lips were warm and soft and she could smell the flowers in her hand. Brooke reciprocated the kiss cautiously, letting her eyes flutter closed and shoulders relax. She let go of her camera, letting it dangle from the strap around her neck. She draped her arms over Chloe’s shoulders, twirling pieces of her soft, brown hair between her fingers. Chloe felt her face get redder and redder the longer she kissed Brooke. She could feel how much more she’d have to explain herself with every second. Somehow, she just couldn’t stop. It felt right. It was the way things were meant to be.

Once she had mustered up the courage to do so, she broke away from Brooke’s lips, not traveling too far. Brooke pressed her forehead against Chloe’s, eyes still closed, fingers still in her hair, waiting until she remembered how to breathe. Their hearts pounded in time. Slowly, the shallow breaths grew longer until they were almost normal again. Brooke opened her eyes carefully, investigating Chloe’s face so close to hers. Her eyes were shut, brow furrowed, biting down on her lower lip. “I think we have enough pictures for now,” Brooke said softly. Chloe slowly pulled away from Brooke’s face and nodded. “That sunset is beautiful though,” Brooke said, clearly looking more at Chloe than the sky. The tall girl grinned, pushing hair behind her ear and looking at the ground.

“Shut up,” she mumbled. Brooke took a seat on the grass, looking up at the sky. Chloe followed her lead, sitting very close to her. In silence, they sat together, watching the sunset, watching each other watch the sunset.

The Ice Chunk, 1997.

February 1997.

           During his free hour, Eric and a few friends / mutual friends were involved in a snowball fight. Eric had refused to even speak to Brooks despite his and Dylan’s valiant efforts. Eric was still angry.

They heard a car coming by and the ones who were scrapping stray snow and ice from the street walked back onto the school grounds. Eric knew exactly who it was. Without thinking twice he picked up a chunk of ice roughly the size of a water bottle and threw it at Brooks windshield. 

Eric didn’t fully expect the glass to crack he expected for the soft ice to smash into pieces and crumble onto Brooks’ windshield and get stuck to it. So Brooks would have to get his windshield wiper and scrape it off. 

Several of those who were present gasped at the high-pitched sound and at the giant crack in the windshield on the passenger side. To their surprise, Brooks halted and inspected the damage then continued on. Eric’s guess was that he got called in for work and was running late. Eric anticipated that he would get an ear full from Brooks later, and that was just fine. 

Of course, word got around and Dylan found out bits and pieces of what happened and was thoroughly filled in by Nate on their way out of school. Dylan found Eric waiting on him as usual. They had planned a sleepover at Eric’s house.

“Eric,” Dylan said almost in a scolding manner that Eric’s mother often used.

“I didn’t mean to.” Eric protested.

Dylan sighed again as his mind recalled how this whole feud started.

A few weeks earlier…

           At the end of the school day, Brooks sat on a bench near a tree and was forging his mother’s handwriting on a detention slip he got for smoking on school grounds that morning. Nate and Eric stood by making some good conversation while they waited on Dylan.

 Brooks pressed the pen to the paper then sighed frustrated and asked to either of his two friends nearby, “What day is it?” 

“Do I look like a fucking calendar to you?” Eric snapped.

Keep reading

The debates were childish and American politics has never been this fucked up!

The Caning of Sumner

In 1856 Senator Charles Sumner made a speech entitled “The Crime Against Kansas” where he criticized the pro-slavery movement and claimed that the South’s goal was to spread slavery throughout the North and into the Western frontier.  Throughout the speech he made several personal attacks against Southern politicians.  Among the insults, he mocked South Carolina Senator Andrew P. Butler, mocking his slurred speech and calling him a drunkard.  It was a pretty low blow, since Sen. Butler was not a drunkard but had suffered a stroke the previous year.

Butler’s nephew, Rep. Preston Brooks decided to take revenge on Sumner.  At first he wanted to challenge Sumner to a duel, but a duel is only reserved for gentleman of equal stature, and Rep. Laurence Keitt advised him that Sumner was no better than a drunkard and should be beat down.  He always carried a gold headed cane, and he knew what to do.

Two days later Brooks confronted Sumner in the Senate Chamber, exclaiming, ”Mr. Sumner, I have read your speech twice over carefully. It is a libel on South Carolina, and Mr. Butler, who is a relative of mine.”  Before Sumner could respond Brooks smashed the head of his cane across Sumners skull.  Sumner fell to the ground and was pinned underneath a desk as Brooks repeatedly beat him with his cane.  Several Senators tried to intervene, but Rep. Keitt pulled out a pistol and shouted, “let them be!”

The incident would become sensational across the country.  Senator Sumner was cast as a martyr by Northerners while Rep. Brooks was hailed as a hero throughout the South.  The incident further widened the gulf between North and South signaling the future bloodshed of the American Civil War.

Sumner survived the beating, but just barely.  It would take three years for him to recuperate from his injuries.  During and after the Civil War he would become a leader of the “Radical Republicans” and fought hard for civil rights and equality for newly freed slaves.  Preston Brooks resigned his seat in the House of Representatives.  Though he was convicted of assault, he only had to pay a $300 fine.  Representative Laurence Keitt also got in trouble when in 1858 he attacked and chocked Pennsylvania Rep. Gulasha A. Grow on the floor of Congress.  He would serve as a colonel in the Confederate Army, and was killed at the Battle of Cold Harbor.

The Election of 1800 — John Adams v. Thomas Jefferson

“(John Adams) has a hideous hermaphroditical character, which has neither the force and firmness of a man, nor the gentleness and sensibility of a woman.”

Thomas Jefferson

“(Thomas Jefferson) is a mean-spirited, low-lived fellow, the son of a half-breed Indian squaw, sired by a Virginia mulatto father.”

—John Adams

“The other [party] consists of the ill-tempered & rude men in society who have taken up a passion for politics. From both of these classes of disputants, keep aloof, as you would from the infected subjects of yellow fever or pestilence. Consider yourself, when with them, as among the patients of Bedlam needing medical more than moral counsel.”

Thomas Jefferson

“We would see our wives and daughters the victims of legal prostitution.”

—President of Yale University Timothy Dwight IV, on if Thomas Jefferson became president.

“Murder, robbery, rape, adultery, and incest will be openly taught and practiced, the air will be rent with the cries of the distressed, the soil will be soaked with blood, and the nation black with crimes. Look at your houses, your parents, your wives, and your children. Are you prepared to see your dwellings in flames, hoary hairs bathed in blood, female chastity violated, or children writhing on the pike and the halbert? … Look at every leading Jacobin as at a ravening wolf, preparing to enter your peaceful fold, and glut his deadly appetite on the vitals of your country… . GREAT GOD OF COMPASSION AND JUSTICE, SHIELD MY COUNTRY FROM DESTRUCTION.”

Connecticut Courant, September 29, 1800, Anti-Jefferson Editorial

“One of the most detestable of mankind”

—Martha Washington on John Adams

The Lyon - Griswold Brawl of 1798

The rivalry between Vermont Representative Matthew Lyon and Connecticut Representative Roger Griswold ran deep.  At first the rivalry was mere political, as Lyon was a Democrat-Republican and Griswold was a Federalist.  However the rivalry became personal when Griswold spread false rumors that Lyon had been convicted of cowardice during the Revolutionary War, and was forced to carry a wooden sword as punishment.  Later Griswold called Lyon a scoundrel, a very offensive term at the time, which provoked Lyon to spit in Griswold’s face.  

On February 15th, 1798 Griswold confronted Lyon in the Chambers of the US House of Representatives, and proceeded to beat Lyons across the head with a wooden cane. Lyon retreated to a nearby fireplace and armed himself with a pair of metal tongs, counterattacking with ferocity.  Griswold, however, sidestepped Lyon’s attack and tripped him, causing Lyon to topple to the ground.  Griswold then tried to beat Lyon while he was down, but in turn was pulled to the ground by Lyon.  The two grappledand wrestled with cane and tongs in hand until eventually other representatives separated the two men.

Griswold had to be pulled by his legs to be separated from Lyon.  Lyon acted coolly and calming, until unexpectedly he took up his tongs and attempted to bash Griswold over the head.  Griswold in turn countered with his cane, thus reigniting the brawl.  Once against the two had to be separated, this time placed in opposite sides of the room with guards posted to watch over both men.

The Jenifer - Bynam Duel of 1836

In June of 1836 congressman Daniel Jenifer made a public insult of Andrew Jackson’s party.  Congressman Jesse Bynum felt so offended by the insult that he demanded on the floor of Congress that Jenifer retract his statement.  When Jenifer refused Bynum demanded satisfaction by blood.

On that same day both men met at Bladensburg, Maryland, the traditional dueling grounds of American gentlemen.  The weapon of choice was pistols, and both men paced off ten feet from each other.  In succession both men fired at each other, missing with each shot.  After the two opponents had fired six times each without hitting each other the duel was declared a draw.

“That bastard brat of a Scottish peddler! His ambition, his restlessness and all his grandiose schemes come, I’m convinced, from a superabundance of secretions, which he couldn’t find enough whores to absorb.” 

—John Adams on Alexander Hamilton

“He is a pot bellied mutton headed cucumber.”

— Zachary Taylor on his opponent Lewis Cass

“the blood thirsty Jackson began again to show his cannibal propensities, by ordering his Bowman to dress a dozen of these Indian bodies for his breakfast, which he devoured without leaving even a fragment.”

An account of Andrew Jackson’s supposed acts of cannibalism, from the “Coffin Handbills”, election of 1828

“He is laced up in corsets such as a woman in town would wear !”

—Rep. Davy Crockett accusing Martin Van Buren of being a cross-dresser

“A horrid-looking wretch, sooty and scoundrelly in aspect, a cross between the nutmeg dealer, the horse-swapper, and the nightman.”

—Stephen Douglas on Abraham Lincoln

“His ideas of popular sovereignty are as thin as the homeopathic soup that was made by boiling the shadow of a pigeon that had starved to death.”

—Abraham Lincoln on Stephen Douglas

“Garfield has shown that he is not possessed of the backbone of an angle-worm.”

Ulysses S. Grant on James A. Garfield

“a Byzantine logothete backed by flubdubs and mollycoddles.”

—Theodore Roosevelt on Woodrow Wilson

“He writes the worst English that I have ever encountered. It reminds me of a string of wet sponges; it reminds me of tattered washing on the line; it reminds me of stale bean soup, of college yells, of dogs barking idiotically through endless nights. It is so bad that a sort of grandeur creeps into it. It drags itself out of the dark abysm of pish and crawls insanely up the topmost pinnacle of posh. It is rumble and bumble. It is flap and doodle. It is balder and dash. 

—H. L. Mencken on Warren G. Harding

“He’s thin, boys. He’s thin as piss on a hot rock.”

—Senator William E. Jenner on W. Averell Harriman, governor of New York

“Why this fellow doesn’t know any more about politics than a pig knows about Sunday.”

—Harry Truman on Dwight D. Eisenhower

“He’s a nice guy but he’s played to much football with his helmet off.”

“Ford’s economics are the worst thing that’s happened to this country since pantyhose ruined finger-fucking.”

“Jerry Ford is so dumb he can’t fart and chew gum at the same time.”

—Lyndon Johnson on Gerald Ford

Brucas Wedding

Today was the day; Brooke would be married to Lucas Scott, the love of her life and daddy to their twins. Brooke was so nervous,but more excited. She had planned this wedding ever since she was eight year old. She designed and made her wedding dress. Peyton curled Brooke’s hair and fixed the bridal veil on to her head. Brooke fixed her makeup it has smudged thanks to happy tears. Brooke looked in the mirror. “It is time, Mrs.Lucas Scott.” She giggled at herself, Brooke couldn’t be happier.

The guest started to arrive and take their seats. 

Brooke was doing last minute things before her walk down the aisle. 

My Masi single speed has a terribly uncomfortable white Brev M saddle on it with a covering that, while neat, resembles the dimples on a golf ball. It is the aspect of the bicycle that keeps me from riding it regularly. It just hurts, period. And it’s never going to soften up, I might as well have a vintage plastic BMX seat on that thing. 

I’ve been looking at different saddles tonight and I checked out a few at my local shop this afternoon but nothing is really getting my attention style wise or shape wise other than a few Fizik saddles that I don’t like the color of. 

Then I saw this…. THEN I realized it was a limited run.
Good thing about my bike shop is that they tend to buy tons of stuff and it sits around in boxes in the basement or behind something on the sales floor until someone notices it 5 years later…. this is how I came to own a mint 1980’s Specialized Expedition. ;)

Brooks White Team Pro CMWC Tokyo

If they have one, I’ll be stoked. If not I’m open to suggestions. Rails must be chromed, seat must be white, gold, black or a combo of the three. The more narrow the better. No weird cut outs. Flat is good. 

This is perfect because the bike is white, little bit of chrome accents and the rivets on the seat will match the goldish accents.  


Demi Lovato in the HOT seat with Brooke Taylor

Lashay and London stood transfixed, staring at the bathroom stall as it rocked in time to the moans of the female occupant, whose legs had disappeared from view.

Kasim smiled at them, as they side-eyed him and Brooke.

Kasim: How y'all ladies doing?

Lashay: Obviously not as good as you.

He laughed. Brooke, who didn’t give a care what they thought, ignored them and took her time reapplying her lip gloss. When Brooke was done, she and Kasim stumbled out of the bathroom, whispering and giggling. His legs were feeling a little wobbly, so he plopped down in the nearest seat and Brooke plopped down in his lap.

Kasim recognized the look on Brooke’s face. It was the same look she'd  always given him after they finished having sex. The look in her eyes made him just as uncomfortable years ago, as it was making him now. Although he thought Brooke was beautiful, and he liked the sex, that was all he had for her. He appreciated that she wasn’t a prude and was always down to do things most chicks would refuse, but she had just got on her knees and given him a blow job in a toilet. Did she expect him to take her seriously after that? It was time to wrap their little party up before she started to get too attached. He planted a juicy, wet kiss on the lips that had just given him so much pleasure and patted her on the butt.

Kasim: C'mon, baby, get up. I gotta go.

Brooke: Go where? You’re going home already?

Kasim: Nah, I’m going to chill with Saire.

Brooke: Are you dismissing me?

Kasim: No, not at all. Why are you saying it like that? It’s just that I came here to hang out with my man.

Brooke remained firmly planted in his lap.

Brooke: Saire’s a big boy. He’ll be ok.

Kasim: I asked him to come out with me tonight, Brooke. I can’t just leave him by himself. I didn’t know I was gonna see you. Now that you’re back, we can hang out some other time.

Brooke: So you just gonna get your shit off and act like you don’t know me now?

Kasim: I’m not acting like I don’t know you, but you’re the one that pulled me in the bathroom. I didn’t ask you to do that. So how you gonna get mad at me, because you did what you wanted to do?

Brooke: Whatever, Kasim. Fuck you.

Annoyed, she got up from his lap.

Kasim: Why it gotta be fuck me? I said I’ll call you so we can hang out another time.

Brooke: It’s cool. You don’t have to call me. I see you’re on the same shit that you’ve always been on. I don’t know why I keep wasting my time with you.

Kasim: You’re always mad at me about something. What did I do now, Brooke?

Brooke: Whatever. Just go, Kasim. Do what you always do.

Kasim: I don’t know what I did, but I’m sorry. I’ll see you later.

He walked off to find Saire, not really caring that Brooke was angry because as far as he was concerned, he hadn’t done anything wrong.

Saire: There you are. I thought you left with shawty. Where’d you go?

Kasim: To the bathroom.

Kasim shared the story of his bathroom adventure with Saire.

Saire: Are you serious? She did that?

Kasim: You heard what I said.

Saire: Man, you got all the luck!

Kasim: I told you I don’t need to waste my money up in no strip club.

While talking,  they were distracted by a commotion near the entrance.

Saire: Damn! We can’t ever go out and have a good time without some bullshit popping off.

Saire craned his neck to see what was going on. It appeared to be a domestic dispute.

Saire: Oh it ain’t nothing. It looks like some dude arguing with his girl.

Kasim looked over Saire to see for himself. He saw a guy holding a girl against the wall and yelling in her face. Kasim continued watching as the guy shook and slammed the girl against the wall. When she turned her face to scream at him, Kasim’s eye’s bulged out of his head.

Kasim: What the fuck?! Yo, Saire, I’ll be right back.

Saire: Why? What’s wrong?

Saire looked to see where Kasim was headed and when he saw Dylan, he sighed and went after Kasim.

Saire: Yo! Yo, Kasim! Wait up, man!

Kasim impatiently turned to see what Saire wanted.

Kasim: What?

Saire: Where are you going, man? That shit don’t have nothing to do with you.

Kasim: Am I supposed to just stand here and watch him beat on her?

Saire: I’m not saying that, but c'mon… She’s caused enough problems. Whatever is going on, she probably brought that shit on herself. You running to protect her and you don’t know what you’re about to walk into.

Kasim knew Saire was right, but his conscience wouldn’t allow him to do nothing. Ignoring Saire, he continued in Dylan’s direction.

Kasim: What’s going on here? What are you doing? Let her go! Dee, are you alright?

Dylan: No, I’m not alright. Get your fucking hands off of me!

Dylan wrestled herself free from his grasp and slid over to stand safely behind Kasim.

Kasim: Why are you grabbing on her like that? What the fuck is wrong with you?

Ricky: Who are you?!

Kasim: It don’t matter who I am. She’s my peoples. Keep your hands off of her or we gonna have a problem.

When Ricky saw Saire standing behind Kasim, he kept his anger focused on Dylan.

Ricky: Who is this?! Are you fucking him too?!

He started screaming insults and obscenities at Dylan, as security converged and escorted him out.

Kasim: Dylan, what was that all about?

Dylan: It wasn’t about nothing. He’s just an asshole. Thank you for your help. Excuse me.

She tried to get around Kasim to leave, but he blocked her exit.

Kasim: Where are you going? I’m talking to you. Are you following him outside to fight some more?

Dylan: No, I’m not following him. I’m going to smoke a cigarette. Why are you worried about where I’m going anyway? You’ve been ignoring me all this time, right? Now you want to be Superman? Get out of my way, Kasim.

Pushing past him, she left to go outside.

Since they were face to face, Kasim figured they might as well hash everything out, so he followed her.

Kasim: Dee, hold up. I want to talk to you.

She looked over her shoulder and continued walking, forcing him to quicken his step to catch up to her.

Kasim: Why are you always playing games? I asked you to wait.

Dylan: Ain’t nobody playing games. I don’t have anything to say to you, so what are you following me for? What do you want?

Although she was acting angry, she was secretly glad that he cared enough to come to her rescue and follow her outside.

Kasim: Who was that and why was he putting his hands on you?

Dylan: I told you he’s nobody. He’s just a friend.

Kasim: Your friends manhandle you?

Dylan: Since you’re so damn nosy and have to know everything, he’s my ex boss, Ricky, alright? He invited me out to party and we were supposed to meet here. When I walked in, somebody tried to talk to me. Ricky saw it and flipped out. He’s not my man, so I don’t know why he acts so jealous and possessive.

Kasim: Is that the same boss you cheated on Chris with? You still seeing him?

Dylan: What if I am? What is it to you?

Kasim: It ain’t shit to me. All I’m asking is why you’re dealing with him if you know he’s jealous and he’s putting his hands on you?

Dylan: Who I deal with is none of your business. You ain’t fucking with me no more, so what do you care? Just get out of my face and mind your business.

At that moment, Brooke came outside and saw Kasim talking to Dylan.

Brooke: I thought you said you were going to look for Saire, Kasim. That don’t look like Saire to me.

Dylan: Don’t you see I’m talking to him?

Brooke: You were talking to him, but it looks like your time is up, boo. Kasim, come here please.

Dylan looked at Brooke like she’d lost her mind and then at Kasim.

Dylan: You’re chick thinks she’s a comedienne, but you better check her before I slap the shit out of her.

Kasim: C'mon Dee, chill out with all that. I’ll be right back. Just let me talk to her for a minute.

Dylan: So I’m supposed to stand here and wait while you entertain the next bitch? I don’t think so.

Kasim: You and I need to talk, ok? What I got to say to her is only gonna take a minute. I’ll be right back.

Dylan waited impatiently and puffed on her cigarette while she watched them argue. For the most part, Dylan couldn’t hear what was being said, but when Brooke yelled something about fucking Kasim in the bathroom, that was enough for Dylan. She stepped into the street to hail a taxi to go home.

When Kasim saw what she was doing, he left Brooke and quickly walked over to Dylan.

Kasim: What are you doing? Where are you going? I told you to wait a minute.

Dylan: Wait for what? Go on with your little girlfriend. Didn’t you just fuck her in the bathroom? Nasty ass. Leave me alone. I’m going home.

Kasim: No, I need to talk to you. Come on, I’ll drive you home.

Dylan: You ain’t been wanting to talk to me. What you got to talk to me about now?

Kasim: You already know I want to talk to you about Chris and why you told him about us.

Dylan sucked her teeth and followed him. As they walked to his truck, Kasim remembered that he had left Brooke hanging.

Kasim: Brooke, I have to go. I’ll talk to you later, alright?

Brooke: You are so full of shit. You said you couldn’t chill with me because you didn’t want to leave your friend by himself. But now you’re leaving with her. Go fuck yourself, Kasim.

Kasim: Yeah, a'ight. Whatever.

He turned his back on Brooke and followed Dylan to the truck. Once they had pulled out of the parking lot, Dylan opened the conversation.

Dylan: I’m not stupid. I know the only reason you’re driving me home is to find out what I know about Chris and Angel. But if you were really so concerned about it, why didn’t you call me back?

Kasim: What about Chris and Angel? What are you talking about?

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