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"Tootie…"

"No, Daddy. She meant that shit. She didn’t say it in the heat of the moment—she said it because she believes it. So, what is there to talk about?"

"She’s your mom.”

"And?" I shot back. "She didn’t act like it when she told me I ruined her life."

“Serenity, you weren’t nice either.”

“That’s not an excuse for her to say what she said.”

He sighed heavily. "I just don’t want y’all to let this be the end of your relationship."

"It is what it is."

“I know it’s bad but?—"

“I’m not coming home this summer.” I interrupted him. “I decided that a few weeks go. There was no need for it. I had already talked to Sevyn and agreed to meet him in Malibu for a week but the rest of my summer was going to be between New York and wherever Creed landed.

“Serenity, are you serious?”

"Yes."

"You not even coming home?"

"Nope," I said, popping the p. "If you wanna see me, you can come here or, I’m supposed to hang out with Sev in Malibu."

Another silence, before —

"I miss you, baby."

My heart softened. "I miss you too, Daddy."

"Alright." His voice was softer now. "I’ll come see you soon. I promise."

"Okay."

"I love you, Tootie."

"Love you too."

I hung up, exhaling deeply, staring out at the skyline. I knew I was stubborn. I knew I had walls up. But after everything with Sienna, I couldn’t force myself to pretend. She had said what she said and now? She had to live with it.

18

CREED

The school year was over, and me and Brodie had officially moved out of our dorm apartment. For now, we were staying at Serenity and Arielle’s place. I won’t lie, it felt good as hell to wake up next to Serenity every morning instead of being in Jersey and having to drive back and forth.

But what I wasn’t expecting was my mama and grandpa’s reaction when they stepped foot in the apartment for the first time. They along with Nasseem had come into town for draft day as it was being held at the Barclay’s Center in Brooklyn.

I stood in front of the elevator waiting on them to come up. I’d gotten a call from the concierge’s desk letting me know they had arrived and were being let upstairs on the private elevator.

"Boy, you out here livin’ like a damn king already," Pops said, looking around the spacious penthouse with an impressed nod.

The place was ridiculous—floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the skyline, a massive chef’s kitchen, high-end furniture that looked straight out of a magazine.

"Creed, how the hell can you afford this already?" my mama asked, her arms crossed as she looked around.