It took me forty minutes to drive back home into my not that ghetto ghetto neighborhood from Marietta. I stopped at Kroger to pick up a few groceries. Chicken, shrimp, more seasoning, fruit, etc., When I got home, Talia was already flat ironing her hair.

"So, lost your job?" I pried placing the groceries at the foot of her feet. Talia placed her iron down to stop and help me with the groceries.

"No," Talia said, taking the groceries out of the brown plastic bags. "I quit."

"Because they were going to fire you."

"No, because they suck point, blank, period." Talia turned the stove on, holding up a bag of shrimp to me. I nodded my head in agreement. "And I got too much to deal with juggling two boys and a job, a bitch need a break. For real. For real."

"Oh my gosh, I so can't deal with you right now," I said this morning's quote coming to mind. I didn't need Talia or Bryant or Trick's problems or my mom's. I had my own starting with my math exam tomorrow. Got damn it!

"Are you listening? What am I going to do?" Talia asked, invading my thoughts.

"I wasn't listening, but you can tell me while you help me study with my anatomy flashcards." What can I say? I was nosey.

. . . . . . . . . .

This is why I ended up with a seventy-five on my math exam on Wednesday afternoon because your sister telling you about her boyfriend, drama while studying is NOT a good combination.

"Ugh, a seventy-five. I suck." I say to Jordan, who's looking happily at her paper.

"I got an eighty. You need to learn how to cheat better." Jordan giggled. We walked side by side, heading to the arcade on campus. A few other friends were meeting us there. Jordan was a frequent cheat, and don't get me wrong. College was full of cheaters. I was a cheater, but there were two types of cheaters. Test cheaters and nontest cheaters. Nontest cheaters cheated on homework assignments that I didn't consider cheating because it's homework, and everyone looks up homework answers. Nontest cheaters also asked classmates for help, aka answers. Test cheaters risked it all. They literally cheated on tests. I wouldn't dare.

Homework was one thing but tests. Why bother taking the class if you were going to cheat on the tests and risk academic trouble? Jordan was a big girl, though, and I didn't need to warn her of all the danger she could get into if caught. She was cool, and so I was cool. I just didn't need to hear her bragging about her not rightly earned eighty.

I hurried inside the gym building—the cold air biting at my exposed face. The gym building held an arcade center, a cafe, basketball courts, tennis courts, a swimming pool, a jacuzzi and sauna, and probably other rooms I didn't even know about yet. I was only a freshman and still exploring Peachtree University.

"You should have dropped chemistry. Biology is way easier." An Asian girl with long hair said to her beautiful friend. She had dark skin, dark brown curls that reached her elbows, and a nice figure. She was thick but not too thick. I closed my mouth. I nodded my head and laughed alongside Jordan. I didn't have a clue what I was laughing at, but she was- gone.

The two girls had already left the room. That's what happened in college- wait too long, and you miss your chance. Alex, my friend from psychology, was in the arcade room. She stood with our friend Keith who we had both met last semester. I started school last year, June 2018. It was when I also started babysitting. I was now in my Spring semester of school and would be a sophomore in Summer.

"Hey, Mi'a!" Alex and Keith greeted me.

"Hey, you guys want to play some table tennis?" I asked, grabbing a paddle from the table tennis. Keith grabbed one; Alex did so reluctantly with a sigh. She wasn't the best at the game or even close to being okay. It was why I liked to play with her. You always want at least one person worse than you when doing something. It's either that or you're the worst.

"So, how was babysitting?" Alex asked, missing the ball as she swung her left hand. She tossed the tiny, white ball into the air a second time. This time she hit it. The ball bounced once against my side of the net and ascended into the air. That's when I struck.

"It was good. I swear the sixteen-year-old daughter they have is more work than the seven-year-old twins I watch." I answer the ball, soaring to Keith, who hits it in midair.

"You have to watch a sixteen-year-old?" Jordan and Alex ask, giving me a confused look.

"I mean, I technically only watch the twins, but Lillian be needing some attention." I laughed sarcastically.

"Dang, she doesn't get attention from her parents," Alex asked.

Jordan scoffed, typing her thumbs against her phone screen, "They got a nice house?"

"Yeah," I answered.

"Food for days?"

"Oh yeah." I was always welcomed to eat, and they never let me down when I came to babysit. Boy, did I love families who had food and let me eat. There was one or two that didn't offer me food.

"She got the latest phone and in high school and everything she wants. She got a car?"

"She does. A silver Ford."

"Then it doesn't sound like she needs anything to me. She was an only child for more than five years. All she had was attention. She just wants you to wait on her hand and foot like some slave." Jordan ranted. She even lifted her head from her phone screen to roll her eyes and bob her head up and down for dramatic effect.

"Just 'cut she got material things don't mean she get attention or enough or doesn't deserve it." Alex reprimanded Jordan. Jordan and Alex were so different. They argued over everything. Where to eat? How much to spend? When to do this and that. It's because Jordan thought Alex was an extra spoiled brat who didn't take college seriously. Alex probably didn't, but it was none of Jordan's concern if she did. Alex would still have her parent's help if she made it through college or dropped out. Jordan and I didn't have that luxury. It was a waste of time and energy for Jordan to try and criticize Alex.

"You can't have your cake and eat it too." Jordan declared, wrapping her arms in a cross.

Alex snorted, "I never got that because everyone who has cake eats it so. . ."

"I think they mean you can eat the cake but don't expect not to gain any calories so you can want money but don't expect your life not to have any problems just because you have moolah," Keith spoke up. He hit the ball, and I hit it right back.

"That's true, but someone once said I've been rich and poor, and rich is better. Rich and miserable. I can buy ice cream, or a house or a person to make me feel better. Poor and miserable. Is just misery. It's just facts." I casually said to my group of friends.

Alex and Jordan turned their heads to look at each other, "Facts." It was the first time I ever heard them agree on something.