gradually fizzles as each day leading to Sunday passes by. He’s been super evasive: quick to close his door when we happen to bump into each other in the hallway, leading me away from his apartment with casual conversation the few times we met in the shared corridor. Only stopping by to make small talk. Never out of his apartment for an extended amount of time. When I take the trash out at night, I hear chatter coming from his television. Sometimes I hear a quiet laugh, but the laugh isn’t his own. And when it is his, it isn’t alone.
He’s hiding someone in his apartment. Someone he doesn’t want me to see. Someone he brought home after those two days away. A girl? Maybe. Who knows?
I forge a vision of this imaginary girl. She’s a stereotypical kind of pretty. A blonde-haired, blue-eyed beauty. Someone who’d match a guy like Eight. I wonder if he tells her she’s beautiful. I wonder if he tells her the things he doesn’t tell me.
I royally screw up by letting Madi in on my assumption. She shows up on her lunch break one day wearing a long, loose shirt and a pair of leggings, sans jacket although the temperature has dipped into the thirties.
“You need a coat and some jeans. Why are you wearing those thin leggings?”
She stands in the hallway between Eight’s apartment and mine. She does a couple squats then stretches with both arms over her head.
“Because I need something stretchy. I need full range of motion to kick his ass.”
I grab her hand and drag her into my apartment, slamming the door behind me. “You don’t even know the guy. Besides, you know how I am. I’ve made all this up in my head. I’m probably wrong. There’s no one over there besides him.”
I’m babbling away, flapping my gums at a girl who’s hearing none of it. She says, “Uh uh,” and puts her hand in my face.
“This shit ends today.” Madi points at the floor. “Right here and right now. I’m going over there, banging on his door, and demanding some answers. Here, hold my earrings.”
She pulls an impressive pair of hoops from her lobes, but I wave them away. “I wish I’d never called you. You’re gonna make a scene.”
“Damn right I’m making a scene.” She rolls up her sleeves and heads for the door. “And you ain’t holding me back.”
I’m not sure what possesses my skinny, petite friend to turn into the ghettofabulous beast, and if I weren’t so wound up over the prospect of her embarrassing the hell out of me and herself, I’d find her humorous. She’s wearing some designer boots and has a three hundred-dollar haircut. Hell, she designs the insides of homes for the Atlanta elite, but she’s currently asking me for a tub of Vaseline to grease up her skin.
I shake my head. “What—”
“If the bastard tries to hit me, his fist will slide right off.” Madi nods, and I’m not sure who my friend is for a moment. Certainly not the same girl I’ve known for the past several years. “If he tries to hold me down, I’ll slither out of his arms.”
“Eight wouldn’t hit you or hold you down, and you’re not giving him any reason to do either one of those things.” I block the door before she can dart outside. “Let’s just investigate. Like we did before.” I’m grappling at air, at any idea that’ll calm her ass down.
Madi raises her eyebrows, her interest piqued. “Keep talking.”
“I’ll distract him and you take a quick peek inside the apartment.”
Madi’s eyes widen. “How will I do that without him seeing me? What if someone really is in there and they freak out over some random chick lurking in the doorway?”
“He won’t see you because I’ll lure him inside my apartment. And if someone is in there, they won’t know who you are. Hell, you’ve never even met Eight.”
“You’re right.” Madi’s face lights up like Christmas time in the city. “I'll hide behind that ficus tree in the hallway, next to the window overlooking the lot. You make a big
He’s hiding someone in his apartment. Someone he doesn’t want me to see. Someone he brought home after those two days away. A girl? Maybe. Who knows?
I forge a vision of this imaginary girl. She’s a stereotypical kind of pretty. A blonde-haired, blue-eyed beauty. Someone who’d match a guy like Eight. I wonder if he tells her she’s beautiful. I wonder if he tells her the things he doesn’t tell me.
I royally screw up by letting Madi in on my assumption. She shows up on her lunch break one day wearing a long, loose shirt and a pair of leggings, sans jacket although the temperature has dipped into the thirties.
“You need a coat and some jeans. Why are you wearing those thin leggings?”
She stands in the hallway between Eight’s apartment and mine. She does a couple squats then stretches with both arms over her head.
“Because I need something stretchy. I need full range of motion to kick his ass.”
I grab her hand and drag her into my apartment, slamming the door behind me. “You don’t even know the guy. Besides, you know how I am. I’ve made all this up in my head. I’m probably wrong. There’s no one over there besides him.”
I’m babbling away, flapping my gums at a girl who’s hearing none of it. She says, “Uh uh,” and puts her hand in my face.
“This shit ends today.” Madi points at the floor. “Right here and right now. I’m going over there, banging on his door, and demanding some answers. Here, hold my earrings.”
She pulls an impressive pair of hoops from her lobes, but I wave them away. “I wish I’d never called you. You’re gonna make a scene.”
“Damn right I’m making a scene.” She rolls up her sleeves and heads for the door. “And you ain’t holding me back.”
I’m not sure what possesses my skinny, petite friend to turn into the ghettofabulous beast, and if I weren’t so wound up over the prospect of her embarrassing the hell out of me and herself, I’d find her humorous. She’s wearing some designer boots and has a three hundred-dollar haircut. Hell, she designs the insides of homes for the Atlanta elite, but she’s currently asking me for a tub of Vaseline to grease up her skin.
I shake my head. “What—”
“If the bastard tries to hit me, his fist will slide right off.” Madi nods, and I’m not sure who my friend is for a moment. Certainly not the same girl I’ve known for the past several years. “If he tries to hold me down, I’ll slither out of his arms.”
“Eight wouldn’t hit you or hold you down, and you’re not giving him any reason to do either one of those things.” I block the door before she can dart outside. “Let’s just investigate. Like we did before.” I’m grappling at air, at any idea that’ll calm her ass down.
Madi raises her eyebrows, her interest piqued. “Keep talking.”
“I’ll distract him and you take a quick peek inside the apartment.”
Madi’s eyes widen. “How will I do that without him seeing me? What if someone really is in there and they freak out over some random chick lurking in the doorway?”
“He won’t see you because I’ll lure him inside my apartment. And if someone is in there, they won’t know who you are. Hell, you’ve never even met Eight.”
“You’re right.” Madi’s face lights up like Christmas time in the city. “I'll hide behind that ficus tree in the hallway, next to the window overlooking the lot. You make a big
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