Four Years With You

Aniyah stepped out of the packed U-Haul her parents had rented, the DC heat hitting her like a slap even though it was barely September. Bags slung over her shoulders, stuffed with sweatsuits, lash kits, and enough lip gloss to last the semester. Howard University yard buzzed with freshman chaos—mamas crying, daddies hauling boxes, music bumping from car speakers. Her mom Tasha gripped her tight, tears streaming down her face, braids swinging as she rocked back and forth. "Baby, you gon' make me proud, you hear me? Don't be out here wildin' with these boys. Text me every day."

"Ma, chill, I got this," Aniyah laughed, hugging her back, but her voice cracked a little. Tasha was always the emotional one, working double shifts at the hospital just to get her out the Bronx. Aniyah felt that lump in her throat, the pull of home already. Her dad Marcus stood there, arms crossed, nodding with that serious face he always had. Tall, still built like he balled in his twenties, hoodie and jeans fresh. "Handle your business, baby girl. These streets different down here, but same rules. Stay focused." He pulled her into a quick hug, slapped her backpack like it was a blessing.

They walked her up to Cook Hall, the dorms looking way nicer than the pics online. Roommate was already there, some quiet girl from Atlanta unpacking skincare. Quick hellos, numbers exchanged, but Aniyah wasn't trying to bond yet. "I'ma dip out, link later," she said, dropping her bags. Phone buzzed—Davon. Where you at shorty? Yard now. Heart raced. They hadn't seen each other since high school graduation, that quick summer fling before packing for HU. Bronx to Brooklyn felt like worlds apart, but now? Same campus. Freedom.

The yard was live. Buffers flexing in front of the bookstore, Divas snapping selfies by the Quad, upperclassmen yelling "Welcome to the real HU!" from balconies. Aniyah spotted him first—Davon, tall brown skin glowing under the sun, hoodie hugging his gym frame, waves spinning perfect under his fitted. He leaned against a tree, scrolling his phone, chain swinging. Girls walked by slow, glancing. He looked up, locked eyes, that smirk hit. "There go my baby," he called, voice deep, striding over like he owned the place.

Aniyah dropped her bag, jumped into his arms. Legs wrapped his waist, his hands gripped her ass firm, pulling her close. Deep kiss, tongues clashing right there in front of everybody, no shame. Whistles and "Oooohs" from passersby. "Missed you, shorty. NYC too fuckin' far," he murmured against her lips, breath hot, hand squeezing harder. She moaned soft, feeling him already hard against her. "Von, everybody starin'," she giggled, but didn't let go. Bronx girl energy mixing with this new college rush. His scent—cologne mixed with that natural musk—had her weak.

"Fuck 'em. You mine," he said, setting her down but keeping an arm around her waist, possessive. That's when the squad rolled up, loud as hell. Sereyaha first, brown skin popping in a crop top and shorts, curls bouncing, yelling from across the yard. "Biiitch, you here! We turnt up tonight! Come here!" She tackled Aniyah in a hug, damn near knocking Davon off. Jaylen right behind, dreads fresh, sweatsuit clean, nodding quiet with that serious face. "What's good," he muttered low, dapping Davon up.

Milan strolled in next, stud vibes on point—braids tight, hoodie oversized, chain gleaming. She eyed Davon and Aniyah still tangled up. "Davon, you gon' make her late to class already, hand off her ass for a sec. Damn." Everybody cracked up. Milan always said the shit nobody else would, roasting smooth. Zaria popped up snapping selfies, light skin flawless, quick weave laid, lashes on flutter. "This glow-up szn, y'all! Freshman year we eatin'! Smile for the 'gram." She posed with Aniyah, arm slung around her neck.

Nasir last, light skin dude fresh as hell—designer shorts, waves 360, blunt already lit between his fingers. Passed it to Davon smooth. "Welcome to the real HU, Niyah. Puff that shit, loosen up." He grinned cocky, girls from the dorms already glancing his way. Squad circled up on the yard grass, chopping it up like they been here years. Sereyaha leading the charge. "Yo, so move-in was a movie. This one girl from Texas had her whole damn farm in the room—tractor toys and shit. I'm like bitch, wrong campus."

Laughter boomed. Jaylen chuckled low, rare. "Facts. My RA already on some strict shit. 'No guests after 10.' Nigga, we in college." Davon hit the blunt, exhaled slow, arm still tight around Aniyah. "Yard wild already. Seen like three shorties from orientation tryna speak." His eyes scanned the crowd casual, landing on a group of girls walking by, thick ones in leggings. Aniyah side-eyed him quick, stomach twisting just a bit. Day one and he scanning? Chill, Niyah, it's Von. She leaned into him closer, hand on his thigh.

Zaria scrolled her phone, hyped. "Group chat poppin'. We got welcome parties everywhere. Cook Hall tonight? Bet. I'm tryna meet me a baller." Milan snatched her phone, laughing. "Girl, you just got out a situationship. Let a nigga breathe." Nasir flexed. "I got the Casamigos. We VIP in that lobby party. Davon, you pullin' up?" Davon nodded, kissing Aniyah neck quick. "With my shorty. Ain't no party without her." Heat rushed through her, but that jealous flicker stayed. Squad vibes felt right though—NYC transplants holding it down in DC.

Sun dipped low, yard lights flickering on. They chopped more—class schedules, best food spots, avoiding campus PD. Sereyaha clowning Zaria about her ex back home. "That nigga Marcus still blowin' you up? Block his crybaby ass." Zaria sucked her teeth. "He wish. I'm single and miserable—wait, single and free!" Milan deadpanned. "Miserable part real." Jaylen stayed quiet, but his presence anchored shit. Rakeem even swung by quick, tall tank of a dude from Harlem, nodding silent before dipping to the gym. "Squad solid," Davon said, pulling Aniyah onto his lap on the grass.

Night hit, and Cook Hall lobby transformed. Music thumped—Future, Cardi, that freshman year heat. Bodies packed wall to wall, red cups everywhere, Casamigos flowing from Nasir's backpack stash. Weed smoke thick, hookah pens passed around. Squad claimed a corner, Sereyaha twerking already on Jaylen, who gripped her hips lowkey hyped. "This the one!" she screamed over the bass. Zaria in the mix, grinding on some random upperclassman, phone out recording. Milan posted up, sipping, roasting dancers. "Bruh, her knees weaker than my pull-up game."

Davon and Aniyah moved different—locked in, bodies pressed, his hands roaming her curves under her crop top. "You lookin' right as fuck tonight," he whispered, lips on her ear, grinding slow to the beat. She arched back into him, feeling every inch. "You too, Von. Don't start nothin' you can't finish." Party energy electric, sweat mixing, hearts racing. Shots lined up—Nasir yelling "To HU! To the squad!" They tossed 'em back, burning sweet. Aniyah felt loose, alive, Davon's touch everywhere—neck, waist, ass. Girls eyed him jealous, but she claimed him loud, kissing deep in the crowd.

Half hour in, they snuck off. Hallway dim, dorm doors cracked with laughter spilling out. Davon's room on the third floor—single for now, bed unmade, gym clothes tossed. Door clicked shut, locked. He pinned her against it, kiss hungry, ripping her top up. "Been thinkin' 'bout this pussy all summer," he growled, hands yanking her jeans down. Aniyah gasped, nails digging his back. "Show me then, nigga." Clothes hit the floor fast—her bra unclasped, his sweats dropping, dick springing free, thick and ready.

He lifted her easy, legs around his waist, backing to the bed. Dropped her gentle, climbed over, kissing down her neck, sucking those dark nipples till she arched moaning loud. "Von... shit..." Tongue trailed lower, over her stomach, thighs spreading wide. He dove in, licking slow then fast, clit throbbing under his flick. Fingers slid in deep, curling just right. "Taste so good, baby. Wet for me." Aniyah gripped his waves, hips bucking, orgasm crashing quick—legs shaking, crying out his name. First college nut, raw and real.

Davon rose, dick teasing her entrance. Eyes locked intense. "You mine forever, Niyah. Say it." She pulled him down. "I'm yours, Von. Don't play with me." He pushed in slow, filling her deep, stretch burning sweet. They moved together—slow grind turning rough, bed creaking, skin slapping. Her nails raked his back, his hand around her throat light, whispering dirty. "Take this dick, shorty. All yours." Sweat dripped, moans echoing, pace building. She came again, walls clenching, pulling him over—hot spill inside, groaning her name. Collapsed tangled, breathing heavy, his arms protective. "Love you," he murmured, kissing her forehead. Emotional wave hit—first love, college start, forever vibes.

Morning light snuck through blinds. Aniyah woke sore, glowing, Davon arm heavy over her. Phone blew up—group chat wild with party pics. Sereyaha: Bitch where y'all dip to? Lobby empty without the power couple 😂 Zaria: Pics or it didn't happen 🔥 Milan: Davon ass carried her out like luggage. Sus 🤨 Nasir: Round 2? We tailgating later. Aniyah smiled, snapping a quick selfie cuddled up, posting to her story. But scrolled Davon's—saw it. Some girl from the party, thick in the background of his yard pic, heart eyes emoji, Heyy stranger 😍 Welcome to HU papi. Stomach twisted hard. Who the fuck this? Day one?

Davon stirred, pulled her closer. "Morning, beautiful. What you on?" She forced a smile, locking her phone. "Nothin'. Squad wild." But overthinking kicked in, that jealous fire simmering. They got up slow, shower quick together—more touching, soapy hands, almost round two but classes called. Dressed fresh—her in sweats and Jordans, him in hoodie and cargos. Headed to orientation, hands linked tight like goals. Squad linked at the steps, clowning heavy.

Sereyaha spotted 'em first. "There they go! Y'all nasty asses disappeared. Spill!" Jaylen smirked silent, dapping Davon. Milan eyed Aniyah glowing. "Face say she got dick down last night. Good for you." Laughter erupted. Zaria snapped pics. "Couple goals fr. But that girl in Davon's comments? Bold." Aniyah froze, shot Davon a look. He shrugged calm. "Random. Don't trip, shorty." Nasir passed a wake-n-bake blunt. "Chill, it's college. Bitches gon' thirst."

They walked to the yard for orientation, music bumping from somewhere, freshmen everywhere. Aniyah held Davon's hand tighter, but that comment lingered. He saw it. Why he ain't delete? Testin' me already? Sereyaha kept the energy up. "Orientation gon' be borin' af. We skippin' for chicken on Georgia Ave after. Who down?" Squad agreed loud. Jaylen nodded. "Bet." Milan roasted. "Long as y'all payin'. I'm broke."

Georgia Avenue chicken spot was packed, line out the door—spicy tenders, fries drowning in sauce, lemon pepper wings. They grabbed a table outside, sun beating, vibes perfect. Nasir flexed, buying rounds of drinks. "To freshman year—no rules!" Cups clinked. Zaria flirty with the cashier. "He cute, y'all." Davon arm around Aniyah, feeding her fries, but his phone buzzed—girls DMing already, he checked quick. She peeped, jealousy bubbling. "Who that?" He laughed it off. "Teammate. Chill."

Squad chopped deep—NYC stories, college fears masked in jokes. Sereyaha: "My mama cried harder than Niyah's. Like damn, we grown." Jaylen opened rare: "Gotta stay focused. No distractions." Milan nodded. "Facts. But parties first." Aniyah laughed along, but inside churning. Davon's hand on her thigh soothed some, that possessiveness she craved. Orientation dragged after—dean speeches, campus tours, ID pics. They cut early, back to yard chilling.

Afternoon blurred—dorm unpacking, group FaceTime with home. Tasha called Aniyah: "You eatin'? Boys leavin' you alone?" "Ma, yes. Squad good." But hung up thinking that comment. Davon pulled her to his room again, makeup vibes, kissing slow. "You trippin' on nothin'. Only you, shorty." They vibed, music low, blunt passed, bodies close. Squad group chat kept popping—party plans, memes, roasts. Zaria sent a vid of her twerking at the welcome party. Sereyaha: Sloppy but ok 😂

Evening hit Georgia Ave spot again for round two—chicken sandwiches, slushies, squad posted up laughing. Nasir told wild HS stories. "Remember that fight at prom? Dude swung, missed, hit the DJ table." Laughter boomed. Jaylen cracked a smile. Milan: "You started that shit." Aniyah leaned on Davon, his arm secure, but scrolled IG discreet—more comments on his posts, thirst traps. First red flag. Breathe, Niyah. It's day one. He caught her, kissed her temple. "Stop overthinkin'. We good."

Night wound down, back to Cook Hall. Squad dapped out—hugs, "Link tomorrow!" Aniyah and Davon slow walked, hands linked. "Love this, Von. Us here together." He pulled her close. "Forever, baby." Dorm goodnights, but her mind raced. That girl, the eyes, the scan on the yard. College real—freedom, parties, but tests everywhere. Squad bond felt unbreakable though, NYC roots deep in HU soil. First day down, drama whispers starting, but love burned hot. Glow lingered, even with the twist in her gut.