SHOUTOUT TO ssdxd¹ & JimmyCastillo53² for being the first and second donors of powerstones. Here's a bonus chapters since I'm itching to give one and got me an excuse now lol.
Also, just a reminder, make sure to keep checking the Aux chapters, cause I'll be updating a few new characters with every chapter, even bonus chapters.
WC: 1,870
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Roman POV
"Yo! Mamá Marianna! Miles! My man Rome! What's up with all these gloomy expressions? Almost like y'all just got back from a funeral or somethin'!" a cheeky voice says, laughing as its owner slides into the passenger seat.
Miles and I wince simultaneously.
We did see a funeral, actually...
Unfortunately, it was ours.
As my childhood friend and partner in crime since kindergarten, Jerome McCarthy, aka JMac, gets in, I shake my head.
JMac's taller than me, but he's so skinny he looks like a toothpick.
Long, lanky limbs, hawkish features, and long dreads. He's the clumsiest person I've ever known... except on the basketball court.
He could trip over his own shadow just walking out of the locker room, but with that ball in his hands, he's unstoppable.
Truly a weird dude.
Anyway...
I'm about to answer when a sharp smack echoes through the car.
"Dude! Read the room!" a girl's voice snaps, smacking her brother on the back of the head before sliding casually in between Miles and me.
Her beautiful hair brushes the car's ceiling as she sits.
She's Tamara, my real best friend and JMac's twin sister.
She hoops for the girls' squad at our middle school, Junior Brooklyn Visions Academy.
She's just as popular as I am, though we're together practically 24/7.
Damn, she fine as hell, can't even front, I think, sneaking a side glance.
But my moms is dead set on not letting me date until I turn fourteen.
After today though… it's probably bumped up to seventeen.
Dammit.
Anyway, I'm thinking hard when Tamara's smart-ass voice cuts through.
"Good morning, Mrs. Reyes. I'd say sorry for my idiotic brother, but I'll probably have to say it again in five minutes."
My mom laughs, and I'm reminded, again, how much she adores Tamara.
Honestly, I'm starting to think she's plotting to marry me off to her or some shit. She talks about Tamara like she's the Virgin Mary.
Don't get me wrong, I love Tamara. As a friend, confidante, and a honestly like a sister.
But my mom glazes her more than a coked-up Krispy Kreme employee going through withdrawals.
Stuff like, "Study harder! Tamara just got an A in biology and dropped thirty on Newark Grind for the East Coast AAU title right after!"
Or—
"You guys make sure Tamara's with you when you head to the Coney, you hear me, mi hijo?"
And—
"¡Dios mío, Roman! Why is Tamara in here cleaning your room?!"
So yeah… it's kinda wild that my own moms loves my best friend more than me. But it evens out, 'cause the reverse is true.
Mrs. McCarthy absolutely spoils me. And better yet? She's a 10/10 MILF, better curves than a NASCAR track, and that's on god. But due to the pact...
Anyway, as Tamara slides in next to me, I'm immediately hit with the impossibly addicting scent of her pheromones.
Might sound creepy, but with my Kryptonian physique and senses, I can smell things from halfway across the planet, including everyone's unique pheromonal chemical makeup.
Think of it like a fingerprint that you can smell, everyone's is different.
Girls usually smell about 90% like their moms, the other 10% like their dad's best traits. Guys vary way more, no fixed pattern.
Point is… she smells nice. Real nice.
As Tamara settles in, she shoots me a pitiful glance and shakes her head with a sigh.
"What did you do this time, Roman? And you, Miles?" she asks.
"We—" I start, only to be cut off.
"They were gonna sneak outta Manhattan to go on a date with some chicas blancas! Can you believe it?!" my mom growls, glaring at us like she's ready to kill.
"Yo! So you really was finna get it on with Brandi and McKenna? Everyone was talking, but I ain't believe it! Ha! My nigga! You know McKenna got that Boo-tay, am I right? And Brandi top notch too! Specially dem boinkers!"
SCREEEEEEEECHHHHH!
My mom swerves the car to the shoulder of the road, slamming the brakes before whipping around to face us.
Miles and I freeze, mortified. Biggest snitch since 6ix9ine, right here in my passenger seat.
You idiot! Why the fuck you rattin' on gang?! I think, cursing JMac's big mouth.
Miles looks like he's gonna pass out, while Tamara's rubbing her temples at her slightly autistic (not really) twin.
She might be a role model at school, but she's down with gang for real.
Damn. That nigga just sold us out—and he doesn't even realize it. His points per game might be up, but goddamn his syndrome is down…
[1 hour later...]
"Damn. Almost thirteen and I still got whooped," Miles grumbles while holding his ass and wincing as me, Tamara, JMac, and D'Kiyah walk in to the Junior Brooklyn Visions Academy to start the second semester of our 6th grade year.
"Y'know, Miles... I actually envy you. I'd gladly take a whoopin from momma Reyes. She's one spicy—," Jmac's grin fades as he looks over in my direction and sees my face.
"Jerome? I must have heard wrong. Could you repeat that again? It almost sounded like a nigga was bouta break the code we had in place..." I say, flashing a smile... that isn't a smile. A fact he picked up on from my tone.
Back in elementary school, we had made a pact. Me, Miles, Jerome, D'Kiyah, and Tamara. We'd never date each other, our family, or extended friend groups.
Although the last one is acceptable as long as you make it known. It was a code none of us had broken, and the core of our eternal friendship.
JMac stutters a bit, a thin sheen of sweat covering his forehead. As he struggles to come up with suitable excuse Tamara, D'Kiyah, and Miles all snicker, especially Miles.
I know he was salty from earlier, Jmac's big mouth rattin on a nigga faster than Master Splinter. So seeing Jmac's nervous expression as he faces my overprotective nature towards my mom... yeah, he's loving it.
"I was just p-practicing some lines for improv. Yeah. Yeah, that's all. A true star has gotta be quick with decision-making, like Allen Iverson. And Jordan. That's all man, I should've chose a different person though. We all know you're a Mom-con—"
The simultaneous slaps of three palms to forehead resounds, and my eyes narrow further, moving my eyes from a sighing Tamara who's glaring at her socially retarded brother, then to an awkwardly shifting D'Kiyah, and finally resting on a guilty looking Miles.
"Oh," I say lifting my eyebrow. "And by 'we' you mean..."
"W-well... I'm not the only one! Tamara and D'Kiyah agreed after Miles told us..."
Once again, Jmac's horrendous social awareness throws himself, and the other 60% of our friend group under the bus, this time attracting glares from even Miles.
"It's not my fault you guys don't understand. My mom's is literally the best. I'm only making sure no one takes advantage of her..."
I look over at the three of them just in time to see them giving each other a 'look', causing me to huff.
"Whatever," I say, crossing my arms and turnung to head into the overly embellished JBVA doors. "You guys are just jealous because I've got a great moms. That's all it is," I say, slinging my backpack as I approach the front door.
Takaiya, J-Mac, Tamara, and Miles all smirk and snicker a little bit, following close behind me. But as soon as I fling open the giant Junior Brooklyn's Visions Academy doors, I'm met by a very unusual scene. The SRO officers are hanging on for dear life as a crowd of students surrounds two individuals who are fighting in the middle of the foyer.
The first individuals is a, quite frankly, gorgeous white chick, about 5'6", with blonde hair with pink ends. She's got blue eyes, and killer thighs, a personal preference of mine.
Her silver nose ring and matching earrings only does more to add a 'bad-girl' vibe, which makes her even more attractive.
And currently, she's beating the brakes off of a figure I know all too well. Jaxon Kelly, the quarterback for our so far undefeated 6th & 7th grade football squad.
But to me, he isn't the golden boy people think. He's the piece of shit who got me suspended for the most idiotic reason using his equally shitstain father's influence and money.
Now while I don't really hold a grudge, I'm not unaware of his asshole antics. Especially his father.
I mean, who uses their power and wealth as a popular U.S. Senator to suspend a 12 year old kid just because their son is salty his crush likes him?
So while I can chalk Jaxon's behavior up to childhood pettiness, I can't overlook Senator Kelly's willingness to feed into such behavior, which is why instead of breaking up the fight, I let this increasingly attractive blonde chick beat the golden spoon outta Lil buddy.
And while she may not have dislodge the golden spoon from him, she did her damndest to make his entitled and privileged ass cough it up, landing punch after punch on his stomach, upper groin, and lower chest.
She's trained, I think, watching as her punches barely deviate from the ones before it.
And beyond that, she deliberately chose those spots, nonlethal areas that restrict access of oxygen of the lungs, will hurt like hell with every movement, and won't show up too bad upon closer inspection.
I'm wondering who she really is, when a feminine voice shouts, "Enough!"
Almost every head turns to her at once, and I can clearly see her.
Gottdam! Is it, like, illegal for women to be average in looks in this world?
Not that I'm complaining, but it's definitely sketchy.
The absolute bombshell of a woman walking towards us, is clearly a teacher, but if anyone is thinking that instead of checking her out, I'll eat the first chunk of Kryptonite I find.
She's around 5'4", but her gravity defying breasts didn't seem to get the memo. Her ruby red hair frames her gorgeous yet pale face, with brown freckles splashed across the bridge of her nose and under her unnerving emerald green eyes.
A pair of Red glasses is on her face, and her thiccc with three Cs thighs would almost certainly steal the show if they weren't competing with her enormous peach-shaped booty over who could jiggle better.
Under her left arm is a clipboard and a textbook.
And her JBVA nametag reads: M. Pryor, Broad Sciences 6-8.
Damn. I'm glad I can control every facet of my body, cause otherwise my boner woulda broke through these expensive ass jeans...
To be continued...
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Whoooo-weeeeee!
🎶It's getting hot in here...
So give me POWERSTONES!
Then I can-
Get you-
Some extra bonus 🎵chaaapters🎵 🎶