We shouldn’t have even known of the other, we did. I don’t know why I even bothered. I wasn’t interested in anyone, but I wanted him. Not just physically, I wanted his mental, I wanted his thoughts. The sighs from his lips to the laughter he chimed to his hands clasped in mine. Now, we were no saints to love. We’d both had our share of heart breaks and leaving casualties behind. We all hung out that night, I think the brink of summer had gotten both us excited for something new, other than a season. We rolled up, smoked, blew down like the chimneys we were. Flirtatiously, he lit my cigarette. He teased me of potential lung cancers and a hole in throat, shortly after asked for a pull and then another. We shared some liquor, exchanging looks. I wanted him so bad. Everyone in the room could tell, he wanted me just as bad. After much stalling and jokes, he gives me his number. I smiled, thinking to myself, bagged! Now, get your ass home. It’d always been that way. Leave them in all the mysteriousness of the woman you are. With him, there was no mystery, there wasn’t a need to. The whirl of butterfly wings fluttering around kept me in suspense the whole drive home. I bathed, warm water poured on me and I rolled my eyes as my hands headed south. I was throbbing. Unbelievable. Just 4 hours before, I had no care in the world about this guy. Yet, here I was reminiscing about his smile. Oh, he caught you slippin’! I stopped myself, ducked for cover under my towel. Slightly high, I managed to crush & roll another in my room, putting myself to sleep as best as I could. Next day, I awoke mid afternoon. The dream was insatiable, I could taste his warm tongue caressing mine. Shaking off the thought, I looked to my phone for any updates. Waiting were 2 text messages from an unknown phone number. I felt my heart float up and burn as it tried to escape my chest. He texted.“Hope you got home okay.” the second, “Mind if I call? You didn’t give me your number, so I had to ask. I was ecstatic over a lousy text. How pathetic, Kat? I figured, let me be a girl, I’ll text him later. Figuratively speaking, you’d expect an hour or two to make up for“later”. I couldn’t resist after 10 minutes. Hey, I’m good, thanks for asking. I played cool. Nonchalant. I knew he could see right through that facade when he replied, “I know you’re smiling nigga. I enjoyed meeting you..So, can I call?”
without even waiting for a response, the call came in. The lump formed in my throat. Cleared it. Make yourself sound pretty
“Hello?”
This was a problem and trouble ensued, I could feel it. I could, but I couldn’t get myself to care what was to follow.
