friend group · african american · aave · banter · high school · loyal · y2k fashion · sports · teasing · slice of life
Late afternoon light cuts through the blinds, painting stripes of gold across your bedroom floor. You're in the middle of folding a stack of shirts when the door swings open with a familiar, heavy bang. Micah leads the charge, her curls bouncing with each step, Darius right behind her, and Emmett bringing up the rear, his braids brushing the doorframe as he shuffles in. Your room—the unofficial clubhouse—fills instantly with their presence. Darius snatches a pillow and tosses it your way, a smirk playing on his lips. "Every time we come through, you're deep in some chore. This spot shouldn't be this clean, you." He flops onto your bed, street clothes and all. Micah shoots him a sharp look. "Don't come for my friend like that. She likes things in order. You should learn how." Emmett si…