glanced away but her eyes pulled back to the two young lovers. For a moment they had forgotten her. Dhakiya’s arms were around his neck and his hands were on her hips and it was very innocent. But for Jane it was the sexiest thing she had ever seen.
She looked down at her hands in embarrassment her breath feeling tight in her chest and her throat aching. Dhakiya pulled back with a broad smile on her face.
“Rodney,” she took his hand and dragged him into the living room where Jane was still sitting on the couch. “This is my best friend and my sister in spirit; Martier. Martier Besigye.” She stood and offered her hand.
Rodney’s smile was as bright and welcoming as Dhakiya’s when he grabbed her in a big bear hug. Jane’s eyes widened in alarm, and she was soon engulfed in his strong arms. Her heart began beating wildly and the pulse in her body thrummed faster, sweat began to form on her brow and she suddenly had difficulty breathing.
“Well if you’re Kiya’s sis than you’re my sis, too!” He gave her a quick squeeze and released her. “Mar…Martie-AY?
She nodded too fast and gave him a shaky smile. “Mar-TEE-ay.”
“Everybody call you Marty?” He joked.
She ducked her head in the sight of his smile. “Everybody calls me Jane.”
“Jane?” He looked at her in confusion.
Dhakiya rolled her eyes. “Honey, I told you how our school likes to rename everyone.”
“They don’t do it anymore.” Jane explained hastily. “We have children from Haiti and they needed to remember their names in case their parent’s…locate them.”
Dhakiya just made a hmph sound. “They weren’t wrong , of course. They’ll never admit that.” Rodney grabbed her from behind and kissed her neck.
“Shh, babe. Those days are over.” Jane watched and tried not to. Their intimacy was so commonplace to them, but they had no idea how much she longed to have someone touch her like that. Dhakiya relaxed in his arms. “I’m going to get cleaned up for dinner.” He announced then waved his hand to Jane while retreating to the bathroom.
He seemed nice. And it wasn’t that she wanted him. She just wanted what the both of them had. When he hugged her; it was the first one that she could ever remember receiving from a male. Every place that his body touched on hers left a phantom impression. Even now, as she sat on the swing, she could still feel the hardness of his body against the softness of hers.
Jane opened her eyes and went back to the school. She headed for the sanctuary and sat down in one of the pews and picked up one of the bibles that sat in the slot behind the pew in front of hers. She quickly thumbed through the pages until her eyes settled on the words that she so loved.
…I rose up to open to my beloved; and my hands dropped with myrrh, and my fingers with sweet smelling myrrh, upon the handles of the lock.
I opened to my beloved; but my beloved had withdrawn himself, and was gone: my soul failed when he spake: I sought him, but I could not find him; I called him, but he gave me no answer.
The watchmen that went about the city found me, they smote me, they wounded me; the keepers of the walls took away my veil from me.
I charge you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if ye find my beloved, that ye tell him, that I am sick of love.
What is thy beloved more than another beloved, O thou fairest among women? what is thy beloved more than another beloved, that thou dost so charge us?
My beloved is white and ruddy, the chiefest among ten thousand.
His head is as the most fine gold, his locks are bushy, and black as a raven.
His eyes are as the eyes of doves by the rivers of waters, washed with milk, and fitly set.
His cheeks are as a bed of spices, as sweet flowers: his lips like lilies, dropping sweet smelling myrrh.
His hands are as gold rings set with the beryl: his belly is as bright ivory overlaid with
She looked down at her hands in embarrassment her breath feeling tight in her chest and her throat aching. Dhakiya pulled back with a broad smile on her face.
“Rodney,” she took his hand and dragged him into the living room where Jane was still sitting on the couch. “This is my best friend and my sister in spirit; Martier. Martier Besigye.” She stood and offered her hand.
Rodney’s smile was as bright and welcoming as Dhakiya’s when he grabbed her in a big bear hug. Jane’s eyes widened in alarm, and she was soon engulfed in his strong arms. Her heart began beating wildly and the pulse in her body thrummed faster, sweat began to form on her brow and she suddenly had difficulty breathing.
“Well if you’re Kiya’s sis than you’re my sis, too!” He gave her a quick squeeze and released her. “Mar…Martie-AY?
She nodded too fast and gave him a shaky smile. “Mar-TEE-ay.”
“Everybody call you Marty?” He joked.
She ducked her head in the sight of his smile. “Everybody calls me Jane.”
“Jane?” He looked at her in confusion.
Dhakiya rolled her eyes. “Honey, I told you how our school likes to rename everyone.”
“They don’t do it anymore.” Jane explained hastily. “We have children from Haiti and they needed to remember their names in case their parent’s…locate them.”
Dhakiya just made a hmph sound. “They weren’t wrong , of course. They’ll never admit that.” Rodney grabbed her from behind and kissed her neck.
“Shh, babe. Those days are over.” Jane watched and tried not to. Their intimacy was so commonplace to them, but they had no idea how much she longed to have someone touch her like that. Dhakiya relaxed in his arms. “I’m going to get cleaned up for dinner.” He announced then waved his hand to Jane while retreating to the bathroom.
He seemed nice. And it wasn’t that she wanted him. She just wanted what the both of them had. When he hugged her; it was the first one that she could ever remember receiving from a male. Every place that his body touched on hers left a phantom impression. Even now, as she sat on the swing, she could still feel the hardness of his body against the softness of hers.
Jane opened her eyes and went back to the school. She headed for the sanctuary and sat down in one of the pews and picked up one of the bibles that sat in the slot behind the pew in front of hers. She quickly thumbed through the pages until her eyes settled on the words that she so loved.
…I rose up to open to my beloved; and my hands dropped with myrrh, and my fingers with sweet smelling myrrh, upon the handles of the lock.
I opened to my beloved; but my beloved had withdrawn himself, and was gone: my soul failed when he spake: I sought him, but I could not find him; I called him, but he gave me no answer.
The watchmen that went about the city found me, they smote me, they wounded me; the keepers of the walls took away my veil from me.
I charge you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if ye find my beloved, that ye tell him, that I am sick of love.
What is thy beloved more than another beloved, O thou fairest among women? what is thy beloved more than another beloved, that thou dost so charge us?
My beloved is white and ruddy, the chiefest among ten thousand.
His head is as the most fine gold, his locks are bushy, and black as a raven.
His eyes are as the eyes of doves by the rivers of waters, washed with milk, and fitly set.
His cheeks are as a bed of spices, as sweet flowers: his lips like lilies, dropping sweet smelling myrrh.
His hands are as gold rings set with the beryl: his belly is as bright ivory overlaid with
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