Chapter Twelve: Pressure Bust Pipes

Aight, so boom. School on some real pressure shit right now. Everybody stressin' bout finals, prom, graduation—whole nine. Me? I couldn't care less. I mean, I should care, right? But ion know, all that just feel like background noise. A bunch of people hyped over a future I don't even know if I want.

And then there's Josie.

She been actin' different ever since she caught me in that practice room. I ain't dumb—I know what she saw. Caught me slipping. Vulnerable. And now? She lookin' at me different. Ain't sayin' shit, but I can feel it. Every time she glance at me in the hallways, every time she catch me smoking outside and just shake her head instead of sayin' something slick. It's weird. And I hate weird.

Matthew still on my ass too, talkin' bout, "Jordan, you gotta stop playin' with people feelings. You need to be real with yourself, bruh."

I laughed in his face. What's real, huh? This world fake as hell.

Speaking of fake—Maiesha.

She stay slidin' into my texts, actin' all slick, tryna link. Kaleb clueless as ever, and honestly? I don't even care. She know what it is. I know what it is. Just a game. I play, I win, I dip. Ain't no emotions in it. Ain't no feelings.

But Josie? She gon' be the death of me.

---

Finals & Frustration

I'm sittin' in the back of class, headphones in, not givin' a single damn about this test review. Ms. Carter up there talkin' 'bout "Make sure y'all ready for your final, it's 30% of your grade!" and I'm over here tryna figure out why I'm even still in this damn school.

Matthew throw a paper ball at me.

"Yo, you studied?"

I smirk. "Do I ever?"

He roll his eyes, but I see that lil' grin. "You barely passin' now, J. You tryna fail senior year? Thought you ain't wanna see this place again."

That hit different. 'Cause he right. I don't wanna see this place again. I just wanna get through this year, get my diploma, and… what?

Exactly. Ain't no "and." Ain't no future.

Ion think past right now. Ain't no point.

Ms. Carter tap my desk.

"Jordan, would you like to answer number five?"

I look up, blank stare. "Not really."

Class chuckle. She sigh. "Then I hope you at least have a study plan for this test."

I just shrug. Ain't my fault she got hopes for the wrong student.

Bell ring. I grab my bag, but before I can dip, Josie block my way.

"You really don't care, huh?"

I scoff. "'Bout what?"

"Anything." She fold her arms, eyes locked on me like she tryna see through my skin.

I smirk. "I care about some things. Just not this school shit."

She shake her head. "You front too much."

I step closer. "And you care too much. Balance."

Her eyes flicker—like she wanna say somethin' real bad. But she don't. She just sigh and walk off.

I watch her leave.

And I hate how much I wanna call her back.

---

Therapy is for White People… and Me, Apparently

Matthew and Josie pull up outside Dr. Reynolds' office with me. I ain't even ask them to come. Matthew just decided this was a group trip now.

"We here for emotional support," Josie say, grinning.

"Y'all annoying as hell," I mumble, but I let them walk in with me anyway.

Dr. Reynolds look surprised to see them. "Ah, Jordan brought friends today."

"More like they brought me," I grumble, slumping into the chair.

She smile all soft, like she tryna read into that. I hate when she do that.

"Well, since they're here, maybe they can help with something. Jordan, last time we talked, we touched on why you struggle with emotional attachment. Would either of you like to share how you see that play out?"

I shoot them both a warning look.

Matthew cough. "She don't like feelings."

Josie tilt her head. "She don't like admitting she has them."

I glare. "Y'all done?"

Dr. Reynolds nods like this some big revelation. "Jordan, does it make you uncomfortable when people point out how you avoid emotions?"

I scoff. "Nah, what's uncomfortable is this whole damn conversation."

She write something down. I roll my eyes.

"Jordan, do you think it's easier to push people away than risk being hurt?"

Silence.

Matthew and Josie both watching me. I hate that.

I force a laugh. "Man, whatever. People leave anyway. Might as well make it easy for 'em."

Josie's eyes soften. "Not everybody leaves, J."

I feel my stomach twist. But I shake it off, lean back in my chair, and smirk.

"Guess we'll see."

---

Maiesha Stay Doin' The Most

I'm outside after school, leaning on the gate, scrolling through my phone. Maiesha texts me. Again.

Maiesha: Where u at?

Me: Mindin' my business.

Maiesha: Pull up.

Me: Can't. Busy.

Maiesha: Liar.

I smirk. She bold.

Few minutes later, she pop up beside me, arms crossed. "Why you playin' hard to get?"

I chuckle. "I ain't playin' hard to get. I'm playin' hard to keep."

She bite her lip. "Good thing I like a challenge."

I shake my head, amused. But before I can say some slick shit back, I see Josie across the street, watching us.

Her face unreadable.

And suddenly, this don't feel like a game no more.

---

Chapter Twelve: Pressure Bust Pipes

Part 2: Secrets and Smokescreens

Ight, lemme keep it real for a sec. If you looked at me, you'd think I don't give a damn 'bout school. I mean, I pull up late, hoodie on, hands in my pockets, and most days, I got that "fuck around and find out" energy. But the truth? I'm smarter than half these fools tryna pass off stolen homework as their own. Ain't nobody gotta know that, though.

Ain't like I be tryna flex my brain or nun. That's just not me. School? It's easy. I don't even gotta try. But admitting that? Hell nah. That's a weakness, and weakness ain't a luxury I can afford.

So when Ms. Carter hit me with, "Jordan, can I see you after class?" I already knew she peeped somethin'.

I stayed slouched in my seat, acting like I ain't hear her. But when the bell rang, and everybody started packing up, she just stood by the door, arms crossed, waiting. No escape.

"Ayo, I'll catch y'all later," I told Matthew and Josie, tryna play it cool. Matthew gave me that what you do now? look, but Josie? She just smirked. That girl stay tryna read me like a damn book.

When the room emptied, Ms. Carter shut the door. "Jordan, I know you don't like talking much, but I need to ask—why do you barely try in class when you score higher than students who spend hours studying?"

I shrugged, leaning back against a desk. "Maybe I'm just lucky."

She scoffed. "Luck didn't get you a near-perfect score on last week's calculus test."

I ain't say nun. Just stared at the floor, waiting for this conversation to be over. She sighed.

"Look, I'm not here to make you do anything you don't want to do. But I see potential in you. Don't waste it."

I bit my lip, nodding even though I knew damn well I wasn't finna change a thing. Showing I care too much? That's a weakness too.

---

Later, I linked up with Matthew outside by the bleachers. He was rolling a blunt while I sat on the bench, legs stretched out. "So what she want?" he asked, licking the paper and sealing it.

I sighed. "Same shit. Teachers always tryna 'help' like they ain't part of the same system that don't give a fuck about us."

He nodded, lighting up and passing it to me. I took a slow drag, letting the smoke curl up in the cold air.

"So, what you finna do?"

"Nothin'."

He chuckled. "That's what I thought."

We sat in silence for a bit before he said, "Yo, you ever think 'bout what's next? Like after we graduate?"

I exhaled. "Ain't really tryna think that far ahead, Matt."

"Cuz you scared?"

I side-eyed him. "Nigga, I ain't scared of nothin'."

He smirked. "Aight, bet."

We both knew that was a lie. But he ain't call me out on it. Instead, he just let me sit there, lost in my thoughts, hiding behind the smoke like I always do.

Chapter Twelve: Pressure Bust Pipes

Part 3: Pressure and Expectations

I ain't gon' lie, Ms. Carter got me thinkin'. Not that I'd ever admit it, but her words stuck. Don't waste it. Like she knew somethin' 'bout me I ain't even wanna face. But thinking too hard about the future? That's a setup. I learned a long time ago that expecting good things only leads to disappointment.

After school, I dipped before my mom could try one of her fake-ass let's talk moments. I wasn't in the mood for her bullshit. Instead, I hit the spot—this little abandoned stairwell behind the gym that nobody really went to. It was quiet, and most importantly, I could smoke without bein' bothered.

I pulled a cigarette from my pocket and lit up, letting the first drag settle the weight pressing down on me.

"Smoking alone? That's new," Josie's voice cut through the silence.

I exhaled slowly, watching the smoke swirl before turning my head. She was leaning against the railing, arms crossed, watching me.

"I ain't always gotta have company," I muttered, taking another drag.

She smirked, walking over. "Since when?"

I rolled my eyes but didn't answer. Instead, I handed her the cig, and she took it without hesitation, her lips brushing where mine had been. It did somethin' to me, but I pushed that shit down quick.

"You seem... off," she said after taking a pull. "What's up?"

"Nun."

She gave me that look, the one that made me feel like she could see right through me. "Matt told me about what Ms. Carter said."

I tensed. "Of course, he did."

"Why do you act like bein' smart is a crime?"

I chuckled, shaking my head. "It ain't, but showing you care too much in a place like this? That's just beggin' for people to use it against you."

She tilted her head. "So you'd rather dumb yourself down?"

"Ain't about dumbin' down. It's about keepin' niggas out my business."

Josie sighed, flicking the cig before handing it back. "You got all this potential, Jordan. You just scared to use it."

That pissed me off. I clenched my jaw, looking away. "I ain't scared of shit."

She stepped closer, and my body went tight. "Then prove it."

I scoffed. "And how I'm s'posed to do that?"

She smiled, real slow, like she already had the answer. "Come to my house. Tonight."

I raised a brow. "And do what?"

"You'll see."

I narrowed my eyes at her, but she just grabbed my wrist, squeezing it gently before walking off. I watched her go, my heart thudding harder than I wanted to admit.

Damn, she got me again.

Chapter Twelve:Pressure Bust Pipes

Part 4: A Dare or a Setup?

I ain't know what the hell Josie was up to, but somethin' about the way she told me to come over had my stomach in knots. Not in a bad way, but in that I'm-not-tryna-think-too-hard-about-this kinda way. But like a dumbass, I still found myself walkin' up to her house later that night.

Josie stayed in a decent neighborhood—nothing too fancy, but it had that two parents, family dinners, probably got baby pictures in the hallway type vibe. It was different from the emptiness I came home to every night.

I adjusted my hoodie, shaking that thought off before knocking. A few seconds later, the door swung open, and there she was, standing there in an oversized tee and shorts, looking all soft and comfortable.

"Took you long enough," she said, smirking as she stepped aside to let me in.

I walked in, hands stuffed in my pockets, glancing around. The house smelled like vanilla and something warm, like fresh bread or some shit. It made me uncomfortable—too homey.

"Aight, I'm here. What's this 'prove it' shit about?" I asked, turning to face her.

Josie just grinned and walked ahead. "Follow me."

I sighed but followed her up the stairs, my body tensing slightly. I ain't know what I was expecting, but when she pushed open the door to her room, I wasn't ready for what I saw.

A damn guitar.

It was propped against the wall like it belonged there, shining under the soft glow of her bedside lamp. My whole body went still.

"Nah," I muttered, backing up. "Nope."

Josie crossed her arms, leaning against her dresser. "You said you ain't scared, right?"

I glared at her. "How you even know about this?"

She shrugged. "I caught you, remember? The way you looked that night—lost in it."

I clenched my jaw, looking away. "That was nothin'."

"That was you," she corrected. "The real you. Not this act you put on."

I felt my pulse in my ears, hot and fast. She ain't know what she was talkin' about. She ain't know that music used to be my escape before it became another reminder of shit I couldn't have.

Josie moved closer, reaching for the guitar. "Play something."

I took another step back. "Nah, I ain't do that no more."

"Liar," she said, holding it out.

My hands twitched, fingers damn near itching to take it. But I couldn't.

"Jordan," she said softly, "just sit down and play. For me."

That for me part? Yeah, that shit was dangerous. Cuz if it was for her... I ain't know if I could say no.