o. 𝗂𝗍'𝗌 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗀𝗋𝗂𝖾𝖿

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o. it's called grief:

     "ARE you going to help me?" Carter asked Nevaeh as she watched him roll her luggage carrier into the dorm

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     "ARE you going to help me?" Carter asked Nevaeh as she watched him roll her luggage carrier into the dorm.

        "No, because you forced me to go to college." Nevaeh answered him once they reached her dorm room.

          Carter sighed before he ran his hand down his face. "Because you are a smart and you are a fire athlete. Shawn would want this for you." he stated as he traced his eyes over her features.

       Shawn...why did he have to bring Shawn into this? she thought to herself.

       Nevaeh's calm demeanor drifted away as that one word haunted her thoughts. Carter wasn't lying, Shawn would want this, but he wasn't here, and neither was Brandon.

        "C, don't you think I know that? It's just a lot, okay? You know I miss my mom and Maya." Nevaeh sucked her teeth.

        "Yeah, but at least Maya can visit you." Carter shaded as he began to empty the luggage carrier.

Nevaeh scoffed as she lifted up her hand. Noticing the flinch coming from Carter, she rolled her eyes. "You act like I beat you." she mumbled.

Carter softly chuckled as he placed her first luggage on her bed. "You kinda do, when I piss you off," he answered her as he lifted his gaze to meet hers. "Did you ever hit Spencer and Chris, when you were in Crenshaw?"

"Spencer...no. Chris...all the time. Chris struck ever last nerve in my body." Nevaeh smiled at the memory of her old best friends.

"You miss them?" Carter placed one of her bags down.

Nevaeh shrugged her shoulders. She buried their memories deep in her heart. "I don't know. Every since my dad made me move to Atlanta after Shawn died, I lost contact with them and made peace with never seeing them again."

Carter rolled his eyes, "You are such a pessimist," he dusted off the imaginary dust from his hands as he walked towards the door. "I'm going to my room..." he looked at her before he left. "If we ever friendship break up and you refuse to talk to me, I'll hunt you down."

 𝒐𝒅𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒘𝒏 𝒔𝒄𝒐𝒕𝒕,  𝖺𝖺: 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 Where stories live. Discover now