Jayda POV

I twiddle my fingers while sitting on the soft velvet couch. We should really get one of these couches for our house back in Crossland. It's so comfortable, and I know it's because of the expensive fabric it's made out of. I sigh and then lay my head back on the soft couch. I have never been so bored in my entire life. I ran out of things to purchase, so now I'm down here just watching the maids clean, and clean, and clean. "Do you need help?" I ask Olivia; she's wiping off some pictures on the fireplace.

"Ma'a-," she stops herself when I give her a correcting eye. "I mean Jayda," she corrects herself. If one more person calls me Ma'am or Ms., I will lose it. "It isn't your job to clean,"

"Olivia, I'm not a snob; I know how to clean," I clean my house all the time; we don't have maids at home; once every month, my mother hires maids to come in and do a deep cleaning, but for the rest of the month everything is left for me, "Please let me help you," I practically beg I never want to clean but since there nothing else for me to do I don't mind.

"I don't think your mother is going to like that,"

"Even more reason for me to clean," I smile.

"Really, Jayda, it's fine," she says.

"Fine," I huff. "Well, I can't take the silence; tell me something,"

"Like what?!" she giggles, placing the frames back in order.

"I don't do anything," I don't know much about any of the workers here, only that they work for us and their names; I would like to get to know them more. I should; it's is the least I could do.

"Tell me anything you want,"

She thinks, tilting her head to the side. "Uhh, well, after next week, I will no longer be a maid!"

"Really?" Now I am intrigued.

"I'm starting school; I finally saved up enough to get my degree,"

"Where?"

"Manhattan community college,"

"Wow!" I exclaim, "That's great," A degree is a degree no matter where you get it from.

"I would have been had it but, every since I had my baby-"

"Baby?" my eyes widen. Olvia has to be like twenty-one, and she already has a baby?!

"Yes," I ask her if she has pictures, and she pulls out her phone while coming over to sit beside me. "His name is Sam, he's four," He's so cute, he looks just like her, with dark brown hair and grey eyes. I am almost sure Olivia is twenty-one. So she had her baby at eighteen. I couldn't imagine raising a baby so young!

"Are you and his dad together?" I ask.

Her face falls, and she says, "He isn't in the picture. It's just Sam and me," her smile comes back when she looks back at the picture.

"Well, you are all he needs; you're a good mom," I say.

Olvia goes back to cleaning, and I go back to picking my nails and staring at the ceiling. At the same time, my feet are propped up on the table, the doorbell rings, and then my father comes from around the corner; he looks at me and then my feet, "Jayda, take your feet off the table," he scorns. I ignore him. "Now!"

I remove my feet, and then he says, "Go change,"

"Excuse me?"

"Could you just go do it?"

"Not until you tell me why," he can't just come in here and start commanding me to do things with no explanation. He blows his breath annoyed that I didn't listen, but then he just walks away, getting the door. When he opens the door, I hear a few peals of laughter and hellos. I thought it was Ryder at first, but the happy sounds coming from the door let me know it's not him.

I miss him. I think I'm going to go call him back now. As soon as I stand up, my father and two other people appear in the walkway. "Jayda, you remember the Smith's," my father says. Of course, I do. Eric and Tanya Smith, another one of my parent's close friends, not from Yale, though. He and his wife went to Howard University. My mother told me once that both of their grandparents or great-grandparents were black panthers; I always thought that was super cool.

They both greet me, and I sincerely welcome them back, their friendly people; I haven't been around them long enough to hold a conversation, but I get good vibes from them. Their son appears next to them; his skin is dark brown like his mother's, and his height equal to his father's. "Sorry, I had to take a call," he says.

Oh my God.

Dad looks at me, "And you remember their son,"

Yes, how could I not? Every time he came around to my parent's functions, I would have a mini heart attack. I may or may not have had a tiny crush on him years ago. I don't think he ever noticed me, though. He steps down from the walkway onto the leveled living room floor "Hi Jayda,"

"Hi, Shawn" I give him a friendly smile.

Mom turns the corner, "You're here!" she squeals, opening her arms wide and hugging Tasha. Tasha raves about my mother's growing stomach, and then they get into some baby talk, walking away and, I guess, outside to the yard. Her husband says to my dad that Tasha now wants a baby because of my mother being pregnant; something about baby fever is mentioned before they two walk off, leaving Shawn and me in the living room.

I clear my throat and then look at him, "So Uhm, you guys own a house out here," It's the best small talk conversation starter I could come up with.

"No," I didn't think so; I'm sure I would have seen him more on our visits out here.

He rocks back and forth on his feet, and I desperately look around, any and everywhere but at him. What the hell am I supposed to do? What are he and I supposed to do? I rub behind my ear and then tell him I'll be right back and to make himself comfortable. I find my father across the yard talking to Eric. I say, "Excuse me," and then ask my father, ''What are Shawn and I supposed to do?"

"I don't know," he responds.

"You don't-,"

"Show him around or something," he shrugs.

Even with the size of our property, that'll only take thirty minutes, "And after?"

"I don't know, Jayda. Figure it out," he turns back to Eric and hops back into his conversation. Shawn is sitting on the couch when I walk back into the room but stands up when he sees me.

"Would you like to see our property?" I ask, giving him the chance to say no.

"Sure," he says, "I'd happy to see it,"

"I'm sure you would," I grumble under my breath. "Follow me," I fake a smile and then walk to my right out of the house. "So this is the driveway," I spread my hands out. "Cars drive up here! You see these rocks," I pick one up from the ground. "1,000 dollars each, they were limited edition, and my mother just had to have them," I give him another fake smile.

"Are you being sarcastic?"

"Yes. Yes, I am," I walk down some more and then take him to the first wing of the residence.

I'm about to make another joke about the prices of everything, but then he says, "Did you know I'm going to Princeton?"

"No, no, I did not," I open the door to our home's art room; my mom and dad are not creative people; it's just a room full of expensive paintings they've bought from different countries.

"Well, I am,"

"Congratulations," I say through my teeth.

"I was the Valedictorian of my class! I was ranked number one in my class!" he exclaims. "And I was Captain of my school's Basketball team. All through high school, I won the Academic Excellence Award along with being on the National Honor Society,"

I stop walking and turn back to him, "Am I supposed to care?" I ask him growing irritated hearing about him and his accomplishments.

"Uh," he looks around like the answer is on the wall, "No, I--"

"Exactly, no, I'm not supposed to care, neither do I care; this isn't a job or college interview, so why would I?"

He stays quiet; I guess he wasn't expecting that; I don't know if that was his way of flirting with me thinking I'm going to fall at his feet because he's done all those things, or if my father put him up to that. Knowing him, he probably did; this just proves further that my dad doesn't know me because it takes more than just a few achievements and awards to catch my attention; well, it doesn't really matter, award or not, no guy can get my attention, because I only crave the attention of one. Ryder. "Let's go, and please don't say anything else."

...

Of course, my parents decided to ask the Smiths if they wanted to stay for dinner. They decided to stay, and now I am being held hostage at this table, forced to listen to them talk about their successes; maybe my dad didn't put Shawn up to telling me his whole life story; he most likely gained his bragging personality trait from his parents.

"What about you, Jayda?" Tasha asks.

"Uh, what about what?" Again I wasn't paying attention, so I have no idea what she is talking about; they all laugh, and then she asks what I missed.

"Did you win any awards during high school, in our outside?"

"Uhhh," I look at my dad and then smile while coming up with a devious plan to make him furious, "Actually, I have; I'll show you, one second," I run upstairs and grab what I am looking for out of my jacket pocket. Now I don't regret bringing it with me. I go back downstairs and hold the red-chip up and towards them with my thumb and pointer finger. "This here is my NA chip; it's red, meaning that I am 90 days sober,"

Everyone's face right now is priceless; my parents look like they are about to hurl, and the Smiths make sure not to drop their forced smiles. "Three more months and I will get a blue one. Six months clean is a huge milestone for an addict. '' I cheer. "And then-"

"That's enough, Jayda!" My father cuts me off. A vein pops at the side of his neck; he looks like he is about to explode; my mom just shakes her head and rubs her belly.

"What I was j-"

"Put that away and sit down,"

I do what he says while smirking and take my seat, not letting his rage-filled eyes intimidate me.

Shawn says, "My uncle was a drug addict," And I turn my head to him, "He had his NA chip, the nine months one, but then he overdosed and died,"

I narrow my eyes, not understanding his purpose in saying that his parents are clearly embarrassed by the way they shake their heads. Looks are deceiving. He's cute, but he's annoying as hell; he doesn't seem too bright; I find it hard to believe that he won those awards; it wouldn't surprise me if his parents paid someone to award him that stuff.

"So Jayda, your dad told me about Columbia," Eric mentions changing the subject.

"Yeah," I nod. He asks me why I changed from Cal State. I say, "Well, of course, Columbia was the better option. It is an Ivy League school. And yeah, it was last minute, and they offered me a spot in their journalism school, so I took it,"

And betrayed my boyfriend, the voice inside my head adds.

"That was the best decision she ever made," dad says.

"I wouldn't say best," I fire back. I second guess making that decision every day.

"Why not?" Tasha asks.

"Well, my boyfriend and I were going to go to school in California together," I explain, and my dad shifts in his seat with a scowl. Ugh, he throws me off.

"You two broke up?" Shawn asks.

"No," I snap. "We are still together!"

"So you're doing long distance?"

"Yes," No. Yes. If he forgives me and just tries, then we will be doing long distance.

He then says, "Well, statically speaking long distance doesn't work for a lot of couples,"

That's it! "And statically speaking, I didn't ask for your fucking opinion! And statically speaking, you talk too damn much when your opinions and statics aren't wanted. And statistically speaking, people who say "statically speaking" are usually-"

"Jayda," my mom stops me and then looks at the Smiths, saying, "I'm so sorry," apologizing for my behavior.

My father tells me to apologize; I take a deep breath and fold the cloth on my lap before standing up. "I'm sorry for my behavior," I say. "I didn't take my meds today, so I'm extra irritable around already irritating people," I look at Shawn and then back at everyone. "I enjoyed seeing you all again, though let's do it again sometime," I turn on my heels and leave the dining room, going back upstairs to my room.

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