10. Kyrie Maddox
Lowkey, I thought that shit was funny. Sianni really had herself convinced that she was mad at me, walking around with that lil’ attitude of hers and those smart-ass responses, but all that shit did was turn me on even more.
Every time she sucked her teeth or rolled her eyes at me, my mind went somewhere else it ain’t need to be,
By the time we got to the clinic, I was already irritated for a whole different reason.
As soon as we walked inside, I sat in one of the chairs while she headed up to the front desk to grab the paperwork.
I watched her the whole time, my fingers tapping slowly against my knee while she stood there talking to the receptionist.
She looked too damn good to be aggravating me the way she did. When she walked over, she sat beside me and started filling everything out since my Black ass couldn’t do shit with one arm laid up in a damn sling. Just looking at it pissed me off all over again.
I swear, the second I got cleared out this shit, and Smoke still hadn’t handled Jamal, I was gon’ beat his ass myself. Quiet, too. I didn’t need nobody all in my business.
Sianni glanced over at me while she was writing, probably catching the look on my face. “Why you over there looking crazy?”
A smirk stretched at my mouth. “Mind yo’ business.”
She rolled her eyes, but I caught the small smile trying to creep on her lips before she looked back down at the paperwork.
A little while later, she handed the clipboard back to the receptionist, and we sat there waiting until the doctor finally came through the doors and called my name.
I pushed out of the chair, adjusting the sling with a quiet hiss under my breath.
Please tell me this nigga was finna take this damn cast off. ’Cause I was sick of not being able to do what the fuck I wanted to do.
When Sianni and I got called to the back, the doctor told us to have a seat while he pulled up my chart or whatever the fuck he was looking at. I just hoped this man was about to tell me I could finally get this damn sling off.
“Good morning, Kyrie,” he said with a smile.
“Wassup?” I nodded.
“How you been feeling?” he asked, pulling his chair closer.
“I’m straight, but I’d be a whole lot better if I could get this shit off my arm,” I replied, glancing down at the sling.
He laughed a little. “I hear you. Let me take a look at it.”
I ain’t say nothing else. Sianni helped me ease my arm out the sling, and as soon as the doctor started touching around on it, my jaw tightened. At first, I tried to let him do his job, but then this nigga started pressing and pulling on my shit like he was trying to detach my damn arm.
“Aye, man, chill the fuck out!” I snapped, jerking back a little. “Damn.”
The doctor looked up quickly, eyes wide as hell. “Oh, my—I’m sorry, Mr. Maddox. I didn’t realize I was hurting you.”
“Nigga, how the fuck you ain’t realize it?” I shot back, staring at him. “You yanking on my shit like you lost yo’ fuckin’ mind.”
Beside me, Sianni sucked her teeth, fighting back a laugh.
The doctor cleared his throat awkwardly before adjusting his glasses. “Again, I apologize. I’m trying to make sure everything is healing properly.”
“Yeah, well, make sure a little softer,” I muttered, flexing my fingers once the throbbing eased up a little. “Damn near sent me back to the hospital.”
“Again, I’m sorry,” the doctor said.
“My nigga, sorry ain’t gon’ change the fact that you damn near tried to rip my arm out the socket.”
He pressed his lips together for a second before nodding. “I understand, but even though you’re healing well, I still think you need to keep the sling on a little longer.”
“A little longer?” I sized his ass up. “Nigga, I need this shit off now. This shit is hindering me from playing football and fucking my girl. I mean, yeah, I hit with one arm already, but damn…” I shook my head. “I’m trying to really get up in that shit. You know what I’m saying?”
The nigga turned red instantly.
I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Kyrie, really?” Sianni muttered beside me, shaking her head.
“Yes, really,” I replied, looking over at her before turning back to the doctor. “Football is my life, and now I’m sitting here in this damn sling because of a pussy ass nigga. I’m trying to get back right before the season starts.”
“And you will, Mr. Maddox,” he replied quickly. “We’re just trying to make sure everything heals properly.”
“Bet,” I muttered. “So, how long I gotta deal with this shit?”
“No longer than a month.”
“A month?” I stared at him. “Man, hell naw.”
“Yes, sir,” he replied calmly. “And after that, you’ll start rehab.”
I leaned my head back and sucked my teeth. This shit had to be a joke. A whole month in this damn sling was not what I was trying to hear, and honestly, a nigga was getting tired of this shit.
“Whatever, man. We done here?” I asked, already sliding off the bed.
“Yes.” He nodded.
I ain’t say nothing else after that. I just stood there while Sianni fixed my arm back in the sling, her fingers careful as she adjusted it. My jaw tightened a little while I watched her.
I was sick of this shit.
Sick of washing with one hand.
Sick of sleeping uncomfortably.
Sick of not being able to move the way I want.
And definitely sick of needing help doing simple shit.
The doctor gave me another appointment for next month, and after that, we finally left.
As soon as we got to the car, Sianni did that little shit she always did—opening my door for me like I was fragile or something. Usually, I would’ve said something slick, but this time I ain’t even have the energy. I just got in.
She went around to the driver’s side, slid into the seat, and pulled out of the parking lot.
The ride stayed quiet.
Not awkward.
Just… heavy.
Too much shit was running through my head.
About thirty, maybe forty minutes later, she pulled up to this little hole-in-the-wall diner. She got out first, came around, and helped me out of the car before we headed inside.
I wasn’t even hungry like that, but I already knew she was finna make me eat something anyway.
“Kyrie, you do know a month ain’t that bad, right?” Sianni asked once we got seated at the table.
I leaned back in my chair, adjusting my sling a little before exhaling through my nose. “Yeah, I know, but damn, this shit got a nigga miserable.”
And it did. I was used to moving how I wanted, when I wanted. Now, every little thing felt limited. Shit was irritating.
“I know,” she replied softly. “But if you keep doing what you supposed to do, you’ll heal faster.”
“Yeah,” I muttered, nodding even though I really wasn’t trying to hear that shit right now.
Not because she was wrong; she wasn’t. I just hated feeling slowed down.
My eyes drifted over her face while she looked down at the menu, all calm and unbothered like she ain’t been driving me crazy for the past few days. The little gloss on her lips caught my attention first, then the way her fingers kept tapping on the menu.
Her cute ass. I dragged my tongue across my bottom lip before looking away, leaning back further in my seat.
“Besides,” she added, glancing up at me, “you hardheaded. If they told you six weeks, you probably gon’ try to be back moving in two.”
A laugh slipped outta me. “And?”
Her eyes rolled instantly. “Kyrie.”
“What?” I smirked. “A nigga got shit to do.”
“Mhm,” she hummed, giving me another look over the top of her menu. “And that’s exactly why yo’ ass gotta wait a month.”
I laughed again, shaking my head, but my eyes stayed on her a little longer.
She was getting comfortable around me, and I liked it. The waiter came over, took our orders, and finally walked off. As soon as she disappeared, Sianni looked back down at her phone for a second before shaking her head.
“You really embarrassed that doctor.”
A grin pulled at my mouth instantly. “Man, that nigga was damn near trying to detach my arm.”
“Kyrie, you cussed that man out.”
“He deserved it.”
“He was doing his job.”
“Nawl, he was pissing me off.”
She laughed softly, sliding on the table before looking back at me. “You’re so damn dramatic.”
I leaned back in the booth. “Ain’t shit dramatic about pain.”
“Mhm.” She lifted her drink. “You just don’t like being told what to do.”
“That too.”
A smirk touched her lips.
“You know,” she said after a second, “most people would probably be grateful they’re healing right.”
“I am grateful,” I replied. “I’m just irritated.”
“Clearly.”
I shook my head, laughing under my breath before my eyes drifted back to her face.
“You like aggravating me.”
“No,” she replied quickly. “You’re just too easy to aggravate.”
“That’s cap.”
“It’s not.
I leaned forward slightly, lowering my voice just enough. “You’ve been deliberately poking at me since I’ve been in this cast and this sling.”
Her brows lifted innocently. “How?”
“You know how, shorty,” I replied.
“No, I don’t.” She smirked.
I watched her quietly before shaking my head, a low laugh slipping out of me. “Aight. If you wanna keep acting like you don’t know what I’m talking about, I’ma let you have it.”
A smirk stayed on her lips, but I could see it in her eyes; she knew exactly what she was doing.
“Are you gonna talk to the police?” she asked after a second.
“Nawl,” I replied without hesitation. “I already told you that.”
She let out a deep breath, shaking her head slowly like I was stressing her out.
“Kyrie, I really feel like you need to tell them who did it so they can handle this the right way,” she said, leaning forward a little. “You’re not just some dude in the hood no more. You’re a celebrity now, and everything you do is being watched.”
“I know that, Sianni, but you don’t understand.”
“Understand what?” she asked quickly. “You being hardheaded?”
A smirk tugged at my mouth despite myself. “Nawl. Understand that I got a reputation.”
“And what exactly does that mean?” she asked, folding her arms across her chest.
“It means niggas already watching me, waiting for me to move wrong,” I replied, leaning back in my chair. “The second I start running to the police, that weak-ass narrative starts getting attached to my name.”