Gianna's Grit | ✓

II: Draw First, Ask Later

GIANNA

I rolled to a stop across the street from my old home, only to find a group of smoking, sour-faced men sprawled across the porch my uncle made himself.

I scoffed, "He didn't make that porch for a bunch of lazy assholes who shoot first and ask questions later."

I got out of my car, got the disgusting round of whistles I was expecting from the pigs, and rolled my eyes before locking my car. I removed my gun from my purse as I approached them.

I waved the weapon, "Why are you here?"

They eyed my gun and the crude statements all quickly came to an end. One of them smiled, "Always quick to draw, just like we were taught."

I stopped for a few seconds before speaking, "Kamari?"

He opened his arms and stepped forward, "I'm not armed, don't shoot."

I scoffed and embraced him, "I missed you so much! How's your mom?"

He released me with a faded smile, "I gotta keep the money coming now that she's retired."

I furrowed my brows, "This wasn't your only option."

"I can't keep going to Philly and Georgia for help now that I'm grown, Gi," He reasoned. "They've got their own problems, especially now."

I nodded and patted his chest before one of the boys opened the screen door for me, "Well, you're always welcome, no matter what your dumbass friends tell you."

He looked away shyly, just like he used to, as I stepped into the house. I stuffed the weapon in my purse hurriedly, knowing none of my elders approved of young ladies carrying weapons such as this— though they never stopped Saul from teaching me how to use it. I thought back to my old friend instead of delving any further into my memories.

Kamari was always a shy boy, his humble personality and sweet smile were what grabbed my attention when we were younger. We were two of the three neighborhood kids that Philly and Saul took in after our parents passed. He was my first kiss, and my first boyfriend. Our communication dwindled into nothing after I left for private school; aunt Georgia was adamant on me learning 'proper manners'. 

She sent me off before aunt Philly and uncle Saul even knew my bags were packed.

He used to slouch over slightly unless he was at a shooting lesson with Saul and I, knocking over empty bottles from the bar. He used to shave off his hair fearing I'd practice corn rows on him. Now, he stood tall and lean, a new air of confidence complimenting his crisp fade and charming smile.

I've always had such good taste, I smiled as I slipped off my heels and began greeting my elder relatives.