Big Four college years (ft. Cockrat / Ivy)

2nd Semester | Chapter 2

5:30pm

Much later in the day as the sky turned a beautiful shade of blue, the boys found themselves sitting on a bench at the school's baseball stadium, watching Peter as he attempted to charm Marceline. 

Kenneth tapped Caleb's shoulder, asking, "So what's the word, man?"

"What?" He looked confused. "I don't speak Nigglish."

"Like... How are you doing?"

"Oh I'm good. I guess," he told him with a shrug of his shoulders.

"You guess?" Kenneth repeated back, playfully. "Come one, big back. Gimme a little more than that. I know that lesbian's been keeping you busy."

Caleb opened his mouth to speak, hesitating to talk before he said, "Her stupid ass girlfriend stole my bass."

"Say on God!"

"On God she did," Assured Caleb, groaning a little. "And Iris still wants to find her, but I don't even care about getting my shit back anymore."

Kenn scratched his head. "Damn. She's missing?"

"I wouldn't be spending all this time with Iris if she wasn't."

"Is that something you want to do?" He asked. "Spend time with Iris?"

Caleb couldn't scrap an answer, shrugging his shoulders. "I guess."

"Damn nigga... you're so boring!"

Caleb rubbed sweat from his brow. "Well what about you?"

"What about me?"

"You and Kimberly. You haven't talked about her in a long time," he reminded, taking another wipe at his forehead since it was so hot outside. "Something happen?"

"Yeah... Something happened."

Caleb raised his expression, awaiting an answer. But, the black kid beside him was quiet. After an awkward moment of silence, the two turned their attention onto Peter -- who was working on his pitch with Marceline.

"No! Like this!" She giggled, fixing his stance, her tender hands pressed gently into his torso, and she kicked his legs apart. "Now you wanna wind it up like that."

Peter chucked the ball across the field. "Damn, a few more weeks of this, and I'll be better than you."

"Ugh," she groaned. "You're so lucky to be a boy."

"It's not all it's cracked up to be."

"Well I'd take boners over having a monthly," Scoffed Marceline, winding up her pitch. Then, she sent it hurling at the stands. "Maybe my dad would actually take me seriously, too."

"He doesn't already?"

"I mean," she sighed. "He comes to the games, but, I know my mom makes him." Marcy brought her heels together, bending over slightly before throwing her next pitch. Peter turned to his friends on the bench, then pointed to her ass. They'd both nod their heads in approval.

"How do you know?" Asked Peter, pretending to be engaged in the conversation. GODDAMN!

"Daddy never really seemed too interested. It's his favorite sport, used to play pro until he was injured," Explained Marcy, staring off into the distance as the heat beat down on both of them.

"Mhmm I see." Except, he wasn't even listening.

Marcy crossed her thighs. "He wanted a boy to carry on the tradition, but, I was his only kid. I played softball to make him happy, and still, all he wants from me is to be some trophy wife for some rich jackass he can play golf with, you know?"