“I need to use the bathroom,” I sighed.
His brow rose. “Getcho ass up then.”
“You gon’ stop talkin’ to me crazy,” I muttered, standing and stomping in his direction.
When I arrived where he stood, he used his thumb to point to the location of his bathroom. Rolling my eyes, I began to enter the bathroom, but stopped and turned to face him.
“Do you need to watch me or…”
A boyish grin appeared as he stepped closer to me. He looked down. “Nah.”
He left, and I shut the door, locking it. There wasn’t a window I could climb out of; therefore, I see why he said he didn’t have to watch me. Where could I go?
His bathroom was clean. The water in the toilet was blue. The mirror was crystal clear with no toothpaste spots. I guess he was a clean nigga. I handled my business and even sat on the toilet a little longer just to clear my mind and figure out what I was going to do.
I didn’t come up with anything.
I was stuck here until the snowstorm passed. If I did take my ass out there, I was likely to die, and I wanted to see tomorrow, so I guess I was thankful for the shelter…even though it was with a real grinch. His attitude was horrible, and he doesn’t know how to talk to females.
But his ass was something to look at.
Too fine.
Ain’t seen none like it.
“Shit!” I screamed.
He was standing against the wall with one leg bent back, foot on the wall, and his tatted arms crossed over his chest. An annoyed expression on his face.
“Don’t be shittin’ in my shit, girl,” he fussed.
“I wasn’t,” I replied, forehead wrinkling. “I had to…breathe.”
He pushed off the wall. “There’s plenty of room in there,” he said, motioning with his head toward the living room. Rolling my eyes, I followed him back down the hall. I yawned. He kind of looked back.
“Sleepy?”
I nodded behind his back. There was a crack and then a loud thump. Something outside fell on the building. The gust of wind grew harder and louder as the rain poured down heavily.
“Can you turn on the news? I want to see what they’re saying.”
He looked at his game system and then over at me with a raised brow.
“Or give me my phone back, and I can look it up myself,” I suggested with an attitude.
I sat back down on the soft, dark brown sofa.
“What’s yo name?” he queried. Before I could respond, he started speaking into his mic. “Aye, bro…gimme thirty minutes, and I’ll hop back on if Sneaux let you stay up.” He snickered. He snatched the headset off. “What’s your name?” he asked again.
I could have been rude and told him it was on the app, but I chose to let him win this battle. “Daee… Like a holiday. Yours?”
“Kasim.”
My eyes narrowed on him. “Lies. I know it starts with aS. That’s all I remember.”
He snorted out a chuckle and drawled out, “Shad. You smoke?”
I shook my head.
