(Beyoncé x Y/n G!p)
In the world of collegiate sports at the University of Houston, Y/n stands out not only for her basketball prowess but also for her reputation as a charming player off the court. Hailing from New York City, she navigates life as...
A/n: I wanna start doing more of Beyoncé's POV but it be so hard 😭
___ Y/n's POV The University of Houston Houston, Texas Wednesday
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I was sitting in my usual seat with my headphones in, waiting for the professor to walk into class and get the lecture started when the fact that I still didn't know this nigga's name had crossed my mind.
We were damn near a month into the semester, I had to do better.
But it ain't even that a nigga was just bad in school, and didn't give a fuck or anything. I just never bothered to make a connection. I was here for basketball, not the grades or even the small talk. It just so happened that I gotta maintain all of that if I wanted basketball to stay consistent.
I scanned the lecture in thought.
It was mad silent, since it was just me and a few others that showed up early, but it ain't take long before that silence in the classroom was broken as I watched more people crowd in.
I shook my head, turning my attention away from the door as my phone vibrated against the table.
I paused the low beat that played through my headphones, before removing them and groaning lowly. It was way too early for somebody to be hitting me up for a line or a 3.5.
A breath left my lips as I clicked on my messages and saw that it was just something from Ty.
Bruh better be talking about something important because if he just interrupted my flow, I might just use my deuce on him. ___ Tyty Yo, you'll take notes for me? I'm not sliding to that bitch today. ___
I grinned, wanting to laugh out loud. This nigga ain't been in class all week, only showing up for practice because he knew if he missed that shit, coach would have his ass benched for our first game Friday. ____
: bruh, I'll send you them shits if I even take notes for my damn self. _____
After typing back my response, I pulled out my notebook and started drawing shit at the corner of the page. A nigga might not pay attention to the professor's rambling, but ima always keep a pen on me at least.
I leaned back in my seat, tapping my fingers against the table, watching the professor walk into class with Beyoncé and Kelly rushing in right behind her. My eyes immediately reverted back to the scribbling in the corner of my notebook.
