“You’ll be alright. I’on need your legs... just your hands,” she yelled back.
I looked at my pops, and he was already shaking his head and laughing.
“I’on know why you laughing because I’m not doing no heavy shit. I’m not about to fuck my back up messing with you or your baby mama today,” I fussed.
“You got a lot to say now, but if I call her little ass back out here, you won’t be able to hear you breathe, lil’ nigga. Stop whining and bring your ass.”
I cut my eyes at my ol’ man, but I got up and followed him to where my mama wanted this shit done. I went ahead and took my shirt off while he went inside of the shed to get the materials. When he came back, we got straight to work.
“I saw your interview the other day. I’on like how they’re making you look, son,” my pops expressed.
During my live interview the other day, the bitch interviewing me was calling me everything but what my mama named me. She was trying to say that’s what the blogs were saying, but I knew this hoe was mad because she wanted the dick and I wouldn’t give it to her. I may have been generous with my dick, but I was selective.
“That bitch can suck my dick, and that’s the problem... I won’t let her,” I countered.
“I hear you, but you don’t need to be out here running around and through all these different women. It’s getting time to settle down,” he offered his unsolicited advice.
I stopped what I was doing and just stared at this nigga.
“And this is advice coming from a nigga who’s married but can’t stay out his baby mama’s bed,” I snapped.
I didn’t even give him a chance to say shit because if he had... I would’ve knocked his old ass out.
My mama sensed the tension as soon as I walked inside of the house.
“Titan, where are you going?” she asked.
“I’m going home. Your biased ass baby daddy done pissed me off, so I’m going home before I forget that nigga shares DNA with me.” I kissed my mama and left just as quickly as I came.
The entire ride home I was thinking how can this nigga tell me some shit his big fifty-year-old ass couldn’t do. I guess it’s true when they say the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.
Chapter Two
Cadence ‘Cady’ Mitchell
I was up bright and early this morning so that I could be the first person in the financial aid office. I was a senior at Cannon Hills State University who was set to graduate in December, but the email I got yesterday said otherwise. I still did not know what was going on. All I knew was that a hold had suddenly appeared on my account. Nobody on the phone would explain anything beyond telling me to come into the financial aid office. So, now I was sitting outside the financial aid office like a groupie waiting for her turn to get backstage.
I’d been waiting almost two hours when they finally opened the door. As soon as I made it inside, I signed in and took a seat. While I waited for them to call my name, I scrolled on social media and, as usual, Titan Samuels was in the headlines once again. Apparently, he’s been sleeping with his teammate’s girlfriend.
“It’s always something with his ass,” I scoffed. “He’s too fine to be a hoe, but most hoes were fine,” I said to myself as I continued to scroll.
Fifteen minutes later, my name was finally being called, and I almost twisted my ankle trying to get up. When I made it to the office, I took a seat in front of the lady who literally held my future in her hands.
“Ms. Mitchell, thank you for coming in on such short notice,” she greeted as I took my seat.
“Yeah, well, your email sounded important,” I replied, shifting in the chair while trying to ignore how irritated I already felt. Nobody got called into financial aid office for good news.
The woman nodded once before clicking a few more things on the screen. “I wanted to meet with you regarding your account after a recent verification review tied to your financial aid package and program eligibility.”
“Okay... what does that mean?” I frowned.
“It means your file was selected during an institutional audit connected to federal aid requirements within the Physical Therapy program at Cannon Hills State.”
“Okay... and?” I countered because she wasn’t telling me what any of that meant.
She folded her hands neatly on the desk before looking directly at me. “During the review, it was discovered that portions of your previous aid package no longer qualify under updated enrollment requirements tied to prior semester adjustments.”
“The only adjustment I made was dropping one class because my clinical hours changed.”
