I look back just in time to see a guy hanging off a second story window. He looks angry as hell, his eyes boring into the side of my head.
I raise my chin at him, the attitude obvious in the move. “How can I help you?”
“You can help me by going the fuck away,” he yells. “My woman needs to take out the dog, and she’s been waiting for half an hour now for you to go away.”
I open my arms and make a production of looking around. “How am I stopping her from walking the dog?”
“You creep around! She’s scared of coming downstairs.”
I roll my eyes. “Well, maybe if you were a real man, you’d walk the damn dog yourself. It’s way too cold for her to do it anyway.”
The white of his eyes stands out even more against his dark skin when they bulge out of his head. Suddenly, he disappears from the window, which then slams shut. Blowing some air into my hands to warm them up, I resume my pacing. This wasn’t my best idea, and the cold seeping into my bones prove it.
A door slams somewhere, and quick steps echo onto the sidewalk. Too late I realize that they’re rushing at me. A heavy hand lands on my shoulder, turning me around.
“Say it to my fuckin’ face, you motherfucker!”
The guy from the window is now in my face, to the point where our noses almost touch. I try not to lose my cool becauseI don’t have time to get into a fight. The guy takes my silence as a challenge.
“I’m gonna show you right now how real of a man I am,” he yells into my face again. “You gonna be waiting for your crack delivery with no teeth,” he threatens.
I pull back a little. “My crack delivery?”
I’ve never done drugs in my life, and I am offended that he thinks that I do.
This guy eyes me up and down. “You seem to be the type,” he declares.
“The fuck I do!” Steam from my breath floats around before it dissipates.
“The fuck you don’t,” he retorts.
I blink a couple of times, unsure of what else to say. The last time I got into a street fight, I was in college, and I don’t even remember what it was about.
“Dude, go along with me on this.” The guy leans closer when he speaks. “My girl’s watching, and she’ll yell at me if she thinks I didn’t stand up for her.”
I shake my head in confusion. “But I didn’t even do anything. I’m just waiting for my girlfriend.”
It feels so natural calling Mona my girlfriend, and I sure hope I can pull this off and make her my girlfriend again.
“Well, you look like a creep walking back and forth for hours,” he deadpans.
“Hours?” I snort. “Earlier you said half an hour, and by now, it’s got to be maybe forty minutes.”
“Yeah,” he nods. “That’s fucking weird. Go home. Or better yet, go up to your woman’s apartment. Unless…” His eyes me suspiciously. “Are you stalking this girl? Cause I’ll kick your ass, then call the crackheads to finish you off.”
I fight the urge to laugh. “I thought Iwasthe crackhead.”
“And a stalker?”
This time, I do laugh because the entire situation is beyond ridiculous.
“Darian, everything okay?” a woman calls out, presumably from the same window he yelled at me.
“Yeah, baby,” he responds. “Just setting this fucker straight.” He then looks back at me. “What are you doing walking back and forth like that? And why can’t you go to your girl’s place if what you say is true?”
I stick my hands back in my pockets and shrug as I look away. “I’m supposed to pick her up at seven. I told her I’d wait outside her building.”
“Seven?” He frowns and brings his phone up. “Why you come out so early? It’s fuckin’ cold out.”
