Page 40 of Drill Session

“What’s going on?” I mumbled, reading the room.

“Baby,” my mama walked over to me and with a concerned expression. “Jalisa said it’s important.”

“She don’t want nothing but a plate of what’s over here to eat. C’mon daddy scoot over so I can watch you take all of Uncle E’s money.”

“Baby girl,” he stressed.

“What,” I shrieked, slapping my thigh. They were starting to aggravate me, acting like somebody just died or on their way to death.

“She said something’s wrong at the homeless shelter,” she muttered a little bit too calm for my liking.

My face scrunched up in confusion as I grabbed my phone from her to see the many calls and unread texts from Jalisa. With a shaky thumb, it glided over my phone screen and went to the messages. I was on my way out the door with the phone to my ear, calling her back in a hurry. My daddy offered to go with me, but I told him I was fine for now. My heart was beating so damn fast, I didn’t know what the fuck to do. In panic mode, I got in my car attempting to back out the driveway and drive off only to realize I never cranked my damn car up.

“Jalisa, what’s going on?” I asked her in one breath as I cranked up my car to pull off. “Slow down, I don’t understand, what’s going on.” She was stumbling over her words making it hard for me to understand her.

“One of the kids mistakenly cooked something in the microwave and it was a fire,” she rambled.

“A FIRE! Who did it? Is everybody okay? Did you call the ambulance?”

“Yes, the ambulance is on its way, but the kitchen is messed up pretty bad,” she whined.

I pulled the phone away from my ear and went to my Vivient camera system, none of the cameras were working. I switched from every one of them and none of them had a signal. Fear struck through me like a lightning bolt hearing the word fire. The parents and I always practiced safety, but there were times when the kids would like to get too independent and make hot pockets or a bowl of noodles at their leisure without adult supervision sometimes. I knew something like this would happen.

Back To Drill

“She gon’ fuckin’ kill me for this shit,” I mumbled.

The tracking device app was open on my screen, so I was tracking her that way. The closer she got to the house, the more my heart felt like it was going to fall through my ass. This was too much like some simp nigga shit. Butterflies fluttered around in my stomach, making me feel queasy. I gulped, seeking to relieve any nervous tension I felt. The pre rolled blunt in my vanilla Dutch wrapper was calling my name, but I couldn’t smoke in front the kids and I don’t smoke immediately after gym sessions. Jalisa had me rushing to get over here, any thoughts of kicking my feet up to smoke was short coming.

“Put your phone on do not disturb so your phone can go to voicemail if she calls,” Jalisa mentioned.

“You taking shit too fuckin’ far now.”

“Just do it, chicken shit.”

Going along with her antics as if lying like there was a house fire wasn’t enough, she had me doing this shit. I turned to face the kids telling them to hold up their mini poster boards. With giggles on their faces, we practiced this a million times, so I guess they deserved a little chump change for the hassle. Jalisa and I chuckled, along with the other moms watching them struggle to spell outWill You Be My Valentine?

“Deontae, you and Amir have to switch spots,” one of the moms called out. “The N comes before the E,” she clarified.

“This is so freaking cute,” Shunta gushed, fanning her eyes. “I think I’m gonna cry,” her voice croaked.

“Oh, shit I almost forgot the music.” Jalisa uttered in a hushed tone as she brushed past me to connect her phone to the HomePod. WhenSnoozeby Sza crooned through the speakers, she started winding her body mumbling the lyrics in a low tone.

“Boy,” she pointed at me, “she better give you a baby after this shit,” she giggled. “Give her something to be crazy about.”

“I do that enough,” I boasted sticking my chin out.

Some headlights illuminated through the wooden fence catching our attention. Jalisa scrambled over to me, signaling the moms to join her on the side of the house. Like a magnetic force, I felt her coming closer and closer. I stood stoic with a cocky smirk on my face on the other end of the candles where they stopped. On the projector, our videos played—the PG-13 ones. Most of them were videos of me fucking with her at randoms times and hyping her up, talking shit. A while ago, she planted a bug in my ear to keep videos in my phone of random moments that’d last for a lifetime, so recording her during those times would last if shit ever turned sour, we’d embrace these moment when times were good between us. My eyes peered through the glass doors watching her frantically run around the kitchen in panic mode with the security guard heavy on her heels. When she approached the backyard, I noticed her cheeks were wet and the dewy foundation casted stained tear streams. A puzzled expression donned her pretty face, as she took in everything around her before her eyes fell in me.

“Drill w-” she stammered. “What!”

“Come to daddy baby,” I demanded.

She gaped her mouth open and guffawed at everything in astonishment. With each step, her hips swayed and her booty jiggled, giving me something to feel on when she reached me. I held out my hand and clasped them with hers. For once in my fucking life, I felt complete.

“What is all of this?” she muttered over the music. “How did you—Wait.” Looking over my shoulder her eyes fell on the kids, catching their attention. They couldn’t conceal their giggles for shit as they held their letter in front of them. Their small hands and adorable faces looked so cute. The photographer got the money shot catching jaw dropping moments of our love.

“Drill,” she gasped then turned around to punch me in the arm. “I should kill you, you had me thinking something was really wrong. I damn near had a heart attack.”

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