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    “What’s up?” I smirked as I sat down. He draped his arm around me and scooted closer.
    “What’s up with you?” he grinned.
    “I asked you first,” I replied because I couldn’t think of anything else.
    “So tell me what you do. You know I rap, what do you do?” he asked.
    “I’m in school right now. I’m getting my degree in biology, and then I start medical school next fall,” I answered pushing my hair behind my ears.
    “Wow, medical school? To be what exactly?” he raised a brow.
    “I’m not sure if I want to be a pediatrician or a gynecologist,” I chuckled.
    “Wow, well hurry up and get those degrees so you can be my sugar mama,” he chuckled and so did I.
    “Who said I would ever date you?” I grinned.
    “You ain’t got to, just buy me a car,” he laughed.
    “Wow!” I bucked my eyes and giggled.
    “But nah, I like you so I hope you give me a little chance to at least attempt at making you my girl,” he raised a brow. His girl? Wait, so this nigga was serious.
    “I will see about that,” I smirked.
    Maybe I should give him a chance since he seemed so nice. However, I couldn’t help but to think about all those girls that were after him. Unlike my sisters, I hated to be in the middle of drama.
    After chilling in the studio with his friends for a little bit longer, everyone headed out to the parking structure to leave. I wasn’t quite ready for our little hangout to end, but I wasn’t gonna let him know that.
    “You smoke?” he asked once we got into his Range.
    “I have, but I’m no Wiz Khalifa,” I responded and he chuckled.
    “Nothing wrong with that beautiful. You want to right now?” he inquired.
    “Only because it’s the weekend,” I smacked my lips and he laughed.
    “You’re so feisty, and pretty as fuck. I like that shit. I’m gone call you Pretty,” he nodded and reached into his center console.
    He rolled the blunts as we made small talk, and then he lit one up. He took a long pull on it, and then passed it to me. I did the same, and realized he was staring at the side of my face.
    “What you staring at?” I frowned.
    “That was sexy, the way you blew that smoke out,” he said.
    “I think this is getting to you already,” I joked and he shrugged.
    “What’s your favorite color?” he quizzed before taking another pull.
    “Guess.”
    “Pink.”
    “Do I seem like the type to like the color pink, nigga?” I grinned as I took the blunt from him.
    “My bad, black does suit you better,” he taunted and we laughed.
    “Fuck you, nigga, it’s green.” I playfully rolled my eyes and took a pull on the blunt. I was starting to feel that shit, and I loved the relaxing feeling.
    “Green, you weird as fuck,” he snickered.
    “What’s yours, asshole, baby yellow?” I asked and he started to choke on the smoke. “You okay?” I chuckled and patted his back.
    “Aye fuck you, don’t come at me with that baby yellow shit,” he laughed and patted his chest. “You almost killed a nigga with that bullshit,” he cheesed and so did I. “It’s red though,” he added.
    “Favorite food?” I questioned.
    “Fries,” he nodded as he passed the blunt to me.
    “Fries? That’s a side Cassian,” I shook my head and inhaled.
    “It’s still food though, right?” he raised a brow and I nodded. “What's yours?”
    “Tacos.”
    After a couple moments of silence, “Aye, let’s go get some. Tacos would hit the spot right now,” he said, sitting up and cranking up his car. He was so random and I loved it.
    “I’m down, that is my favorite,” I shrugged and buckled my seatbelt.
    We drove to this place called Tacos Mexico, and ordered twenty damn mini tacos. I didn’t know what the fuck we were thinking, but it sounded like a logical thing to do at the time.
    “Why didn't we get drinks?” I whined as I held my neck. My throat was so dry, and I’d just eaten six tacos.
    “Let's go to 7-11,” he chuckled.
    After we got four bottles of water, we