I step out onto the curb, and I stand there on the sidewalk as I take the time to say at my childhood home. The three bedroom, two bathroom house looks cosy from the outside and it was just the same inside. I take a deep inhale and walks up the pathway, I find the key behind a brick in the wall and unlocks the front door of the house, walking down the hallway but I backtrack when I forgot to take off shoes.

Momma's number one rule.

After kicking off my worn-out Vans, I make my way to the hall once again to find my mom and brothers sitting around the kitchen island in their tiny kitchen with only minimal counter space, sink, small kitchen island, and stove. My mom's hard efforts in repainting the walls and decorations have made it look nicer.

Their bored faces change into those of excitement when they acknowledge me. Arman squeezes me to death as he hugs me tightly next is Trey who gives me a side hug and ruffles my hair, messing it up in the process. I smack his hands away and shove him before giving my mom a big bear hug, rocking from side to side.

"Thank God, you are here I was losing brain cells spending time with your brothers here," She whispers in my ear. My mom's comment has me choking on a laugh as her mom laughs softly under her breath. "Y'all better not be talking about us," Arman says us putting his phone on the counter.

"Who said we weren't?" Our mom arches a brow at him, and Arman opens and closes his mouth repeatedly for a reply as his brother snickers.

"I don't remember what the joke was, T." Trey smacks his mouth against his teeth as he narrows his eyes at Arman, "Bruh, why you gotta be so - "

"Alright, enough! Jesus, I can't believe as old as you are, y'all still fight like your toddlers." Mom intervenes. I roll my eyes at my family. Home sweet home. I reach into my purse and take out a triangular shaped cardboard box, "I got Toblerone?"

After getting settled I changed into more comfortable clothes as my brothers and I watch a movie while mom is in the kitchen baking, I've noticed that Arman has had his eyes glued to the phone with the goofiest grin on his face, "who got you cheesin at your phone like that?" I ask my brother. His head snaps up to me, "Huh?" He clears his throat aggressively, tucking his phone away from my sight. "Nothing. It's nobody." Trey has passed out on the couch long ago and he's snoring loud as hell, Arman and I stare at him before I scoot closer to him. "Arman, you can tell me. Now, who is she?"

"Why do you gotta assume it's she?" I arch a brow at him, "oh, it's a guy then?" He makes a face at me in confusion, "what? No. Don't even try to play me like that." I can't help but cackle at him before sobering up a little while later. Arman begrudgingly brings out his phone to show his me. I can't help but let out an aww when I sees the picture of my brother with a beautiful girl with dark brown eyes, braids, and dark cocoa skin tone. She's pretty. In the picture they're both smiling and I gotta admit they look beautiful together. "Wow. She's beautiful. What did she see in yo ugly ass?" I jokes and he shoves me with his shoulder. I laugh, "okay, okay I'm just playing," I look at the photo again, "what's her name?"

He looks at me before looking down, "Tia." I cross my legs on the couch and lean back on the soft cushion, "So y'all going' out together or what?" He clears his throat awkwardly, "nah, we just chilling'."

It's right now where I really wanna punch my brother in the mouth, I give him a disbelieving look, "Arman, I don't know nobody who swipes through their phone smiling at pictures like you were and say, 'you're just chilling'." Using my fingers as air quotes. Arman grunts and I know just by lack of response that's I'm right. Which is why I keep pressing, "so do you like her?"

"Who likes who now?" Our mom yells from the kitchen and Arman groans, "bruh, you know how your momma is like and you just had to say that out loud." He whispers. "Boy, don't think I didn't hear you." Mom yells back and Arman's hand runs down his face in exasperation, I can't help but laugh and Arman shakes his head, getting up from the couch. "I'm going to bed. Good night." He ruffles my hair as he heads towards his room on the further end of the house.

"Goodnight." Mom and I say in unison as I join my mom in the kitchen. She has stacked three boxes on top of one another all labelled with the client's name. Since I could remember, my mom was working three jobs trying to keep the family on our feet after dad left. Even though I was young at the time, I very vividly remembers my father it's after that she doesn't remember him. It's almost like I imagined him being there because there's no sign of him that's been left behind.

Ever since then mom has never stopped working, working 9-5 every single day to support her babies. We could barely afford things in when mom was raising, but we were always appreciative of mom's efforts. It's her hard work that's allowed her to send all three of us to college.

If mom's hard work taught me anything it's that you could never depend on anyone for anything especially a man, and if mom could do it, I could to. The bakery started up a couple of years ago when she needed to send Arman to college and ever since then the small business boomed and its's been thriving since.

Due to Woodlands being such a small town, everyone knows everyone so there isn't one person who doesn't know about Brook's Bakery. The bakery helped the Brooks family immensely although mom still works on the side as a sales assistant for the days when the bakery doesn't do so well.

"Who's the order for?"

Mom brings out another one from the back and places them on the counter in the far corner, "You remember Mrs. Howard? The sweet old lady down the street?" I nod, "She's having a high tea tomorrow and she needed me to bake them for her." I sit on a bar stool resting my arms on the granite island, "How is she anyway?"

"She just had a grandbaby." I pick at the leftover icing and my mom scowls at me, but I don't stop, "Again?"

"At least she's getting some grandbabies." Mom says, arching a brow at me. I sigh, leaving the icing and crossing my arms, "Ma, you know why I can't have kids right now," Kiana repeats to her mom for the umpteenth time. With it being my final year at USC, my job at the diner as well as my other commitments I can't afford to have a baby now. I don't even have a single cent to my name to support the child in the first place. Plus, the thought of children scares the shit out of me.

"Uh hm, right," She replies sarcastically, and I roll my eyes. "So, momma, you said there was a family emergency?" I ask, not in the mood to talk about this again. My mom pauses by the sink, the water from the faucet running freely down the drain, I can't help the sinking feeling I get when my mom turns to face me, all hints of humour gone from her face. She wipes her wet hands down her apron and pulls out a chair to take a seat.

I've become a zombie since I got back to LA from my impromptu visit home, when mom said it was urgent that I come back home, I didn't expect it to be about something or someone I had long forgotten about. I can't even remember the last time I had a proper meal. Even my favourites taste stale, I can't remember the last time I got through the day without crying.

I've avoided everyone all together. Upon arriving from the visit home, I at once camped in my room. It's been a little over a week and I haven't gone to class, and I haven't left my room. I only exit to get food, but I never end up finishing it because my appetite ends up disappears. So, I gave up on eating at least two days ago. The girls have tried as best they could to get me out of bed and back to normal, but I guess they realised that their efforts are just useless at this point.

I've gotten countless of phone calls and texts from both Roman and Devontae, but I don't have the energy to reply, my heart hurts too much to even say anything or even let them know what's going on. Today however I managed to get my ass out of bed, and I sit on the rooftop, watching the sunset. It's of a pink, orange hue as the day comes to an end usually, I'd wipe out my phone to catch the beauty of it, but I can't, not when I'm feeling like this. I have my knees to my chest, my arms wrapped around my sweat pant-clad legs with my hair down, most probably frizzy as hell and I can feel the puffiness of my eyes from crying all week long.

I hear the footsteps coming up the stairs to the roof and I quickly wipes away the tears that have run down my face, unconsciously. I don't bother to look up because I can his scent already lets me know. Devontae stands a few feet away, rocking on the balls of his feet, probably thinking whether to join me.

The moment my eyes meet his, my lip trembles as I see his brown eyes sating back at me with empathy. He's dressed in his usual attire of sweats and a hoodie; his hands are tucked into the front pockets of his jeans and when he sees me fully and frowns, I can't help but burst into tears. He's instantly by my side as he grabs my hands to make me stand up when I'm on my feet he wraps me up in a hug. I clutch material of his hoodie roughly with both hands as if he'll disappear and my body heaves with every sob that rips out of me. My cries become choking ones as I try to remember to breathe as the tears flow from my eyes. I expect him to say something however still is silent, letting me cry.

After countless minutes of us being in each other's embrace, I pull back to meet his eyes. His dark brown orbs are almost black as they swell with concern. I inhale sharply and sits back down where I was before, wiping my eyes with the sleeve of my sweatshirt, Devontae takes this as a sign to join me, so he does so.

For a little, while we stare at the view, they have of the street below them with cars passing by and pedestrians walking to places they need to be. I inhale one last sharp breath before I say, "It's my dad."

I've been trying to get a hold of her since she came back but she wouldn't answer none of my texts or calls. I thought I did something but since she wasn't answering Rome either I knew something was wrong. I rushed over here as quick as I could, and I didn't expect to see her like this if I came sooner. I scoots closer to Kiana and places my hand on her knee. Kiana's grey sweatshirt is matted with tears and the sleeves have been stretched to cover her hands. She always feels cold, I don't know why. Kiana clears her throat before licking her dry lips, "my dad called my mom during midterms. She. . .didn't want to freak me out and lose focus."

I remain silent as I listen, letting her do the talking but I let her know that I'm there by rubbing my thumb over her knee. She rants about her dad who abandoned her family when she and her brother were still in elementary school and leaving their mom to look after three kids by herself and the amount of work her mom had to do to look after them. She swears more than I'm used to when she talks about him, but I don't really care and just let her get it out of her system which she clearly needed to do.

My mind is running at a million miles per minute at the possibilities of why her dad reappeared. This is the most she's ever said about him in the last twenty minutes than in the past three years. She's vaguely mentioned him leaving when she and her brothers were still young but never said anything else after that. I knew it was a sensitive topic for her and never brought it up until she brought it up herself, like now.

"This is so fucking ridiculous." She swears, swiping the sleeve of her sweater under her nose. It's silent for a short while before Kiana sniffles and braces herself to speak, "he said he. . .wants to see me." Her voice cracks towards the end as she struggles to hold back the sobs clogged in her throat. "But why would he want to see me now? He's missed out on birthdays, holidays, milestones, he was never there for anything! Yet he wants to appear like everything is fine and nothing happened? He made my mom work three jobs to support three children all by herself and he has the audacity to. . ." She stops biting her lip, the sadness seeping in again.

She wipes away the tears that are flowing down her face then frowns when she realizes how useless it is, given the fact that once she starts crying, she can't stop, "he missed out on everything, and he expects me to just accept his idea of meeting him?" She shakes her head, tears dropping onto the roof tiles. She brings her knees to her chest again and begins rocking back and forth, burying her head between her legs, her curls blanketing her shoulders and face. I drape my arm over Kiana's shoulder, and she now rests her head on my chest.

"I just don't understand why he would want to meet me now ─ I just don't." She says, her voice strained and weak. I bite his lip, not sure whether what I want to say is a good idea, but I do so anyway. I rest my chin on the top of her head, "believe me when I say you got every right to feel the way you feeling right now, aight? There's nobody to blame but him. But Kiana, as much as you telling me that you ain't been curious in the slightest to find out why he left in the first place."

She frowns, "But. . ."

"Lemme finish, okay?" I say softly, "I'm not saying you must hear him out, but you're owed that much. An explanation. I don't want you to miss out on that because you're upset, and you regret it somewhere down the road."

Kiana lets out a deep exhale, not saying anything and I know the gears in her head are turning as she thinks about what I just said. She wipes her nose again, "will you come with me?" She asks hopefully. I pull back a little to look at her in the eyes, "you sure? I don't want to intrude." She nods and moves closer to me, tucking her hands under her sweatshirt, "I wouldn't want to go with anyone else."

...

I'm considering of committing murder, the guys better ready to bail me outta jail cos wants Coach Taylor is working on my last damn nerve. Luckily, what's stopping me from murdering Coach Taylor is that Coach Jackson was there in attendance just busy with something regarding the next game they have coming up. After two tireless months of back-to-back matches, the Trojans need to be on the top of their game if we wanna win against the UCLA Bruins.

I can't help but check the stats every hour of every day and instead of the results worrying me, it's only angered him even further and that's what's kept the team going so far. That and a specific someone who he can't seem to get his mind off by the name of Dominic.

After the news Kiana received about her dad, she's been a mess of emotions and anxiety. Her emotional breakdown had me worried, but I know Kiana, she's going to get through it, I know she will. Across the basketball court, Coach Jackson is talking to the subs, preparing them for any possibility of one of their collaborators were to get injured or anything like that. In the meantime, Coach, Taylor is going over the strategy with the guys as we prepare for the game tomorrow.

"If I hear one more racist thing come outta his mouth somebody better be ready to bail me outta jail today," Jay says through his teeth, verbally saying what I was thinking.

Roman cracks his knuckles, "I prefer someone who's blatantly racist that way I know where I stand with you unlike someone who does shit on the low and there ain't nothing you can do about it."

"Bro," is all I say in agreement and Coach Taylor's eyes slit in my direction. I look right at him with the same expression until Coach turns his head away. He smacks his teeth together before redirecting his focus to his team.

...

"C'mon, it'll be great. We all know you need the break." Amaal says, trying her best to convince her friend. "I know I do," Cassie mumbles under her breath and Amaal gives her a look and Cass shrugs.

After the emotional week Kiana endured the gang thought it would help going out as a group to this party that's being thrown by someone from the varsity. She's not budging though. Everyone is dressed and ready to go, except Kiana who's dressed in an oversized t-shirt and cotton shorts.

She stands there as the group sits, surrounding her in the kitchen; the girls seated on the bar stools, Jay leaning against the fridge with Lucas next to him. Roman is busy eating a bowl of fruit loops while seated on one of the counters. He eats the cereal at the speed of lighting and Kiana can't help but look at him. When he feels someone watching him, he looks up and looks at her confused "what?"

She rolls her eyes as she steps off the platform of the kitchen, dragging her slipper-clad feet against the wooden flooring. "It'll be fun for y'all. Us (me) would very much enjoy the company of my computer screen," she pauses, "and some ice cream."

The group lets out collective groans and I see this as a sign to step in, "Kiki, their hearts are in a good place. We've seen how down you been lately and we just wanna make you feel better."

Kiana's lips roll into her mouth, her resolve breaking. I can see the cracks in her façade, I put my hands together in a begging motion and she cracks, "Alright, alright fine." The gang cheers, "all y'all owe me your desserts for the next month." She says, pointing at each of us, with furrowed brows.