I started jamming to the music Pernelle had playing, finishing off a piece of strawberry cake. I hadn’t even asked Pernelle where we were going until the car slowed down to a stop.
We pulled up to the barbershop where Crew got his haircut and spent more time talking shit outside than he ever did in the chair.
When I looked out the window, I spotted my brother and a few more niggas from their circle, standing around, talking louder than the music Pernelle had blasting through the speakers. I scanned the crowd, peeping the scene until my gaze stopped on Amir, who was leaning back against his car. He had on one of those kufi’s again, but I could see that his hair wasbraided underneath this time because of the long plats hanging from under the hat.
“Are you getting out, Jas?”
“Uhh, how long are you going to be?”
“I don’t know. I really just came to bring Crew the Nate plate. Just get out with me. It won’t take long.” P reached into the backseat, grabbed the to-go plate, and jumped out of the car. I got out behind her, and she ran into Crew’s arms, and he caught her, spinning her around. When they kissed, and he grabbed her booty, I found another direction to look in. That’s when Amir and I caught eyes, and for some reason, I got nervous.
“What up, Jasmine?” He spoke, and I smirked, waving my hand up at him. He smiled at me before putting his gaze back towards the ground.
“Ayo, where did that plate come from, P? That shit smells fire,” Elijah asked Pernelle, and she laughed it off without directly answering the question.
“From a dear friend we just met an hour ago.”
“Well, damn, I wish I could’ve gotten me one.”
“Yeah, me too,” Vincent added.
“I’m sorry, y’all. You know, there is only one man I think about.”
“You god damn right.” Crew replied, opening his plate and setting it on top of his car to grub on. I’m usually so chill and relaxed around the guys, but right now, I didn’t feel that way. I just stood next to P and started scrolling through my phone, going to Instagram and my other social networks that shouldn’t be getting my time. However, my eyes kept finding their way back to Amir.
He had that calm, cool, and collected Malcom X shit down to a T, even though I know that shit is a fluke. No cold blooded murderer could be that fuckin calm all the time.
“Jassy baby.” Elijah sang my name as he approached me.
“How have you been, beautiful?”
He was munching on a bag of hot Cheetos and licking his fingers, which honestly was irritating me. I can’t stand when people do that shit. Smacking on gum or people licking their fingers. I remember my mama dated a man named Dave back in the day that did that shit. He used to ruin dinner every time we had it as a family together. I remember Crew ended up knocking his plate off the table and asking him if he ever heard of fuckin napkins. He broke up with mama after that, but she still wasn't mad at her baby boy for too long.
“Hey, Elijah, I’m fine, and you?”
“I’m good, but I would be even better if I got to take you out one day.”
“Out where Elijah?” I rolled my eyes.
“I don’t know, what does the perfect date sound like to you?”
“Nigga, I don’t know. You tell me?”
“I’m for real, Jas, let me know, tell a nigga what you would want to do and it’s done, baby.”
I shook my head, once again accidentally catching eyes with Amir, who seemed to be tuned into our conversation.
“If you must know, my dream date is maybe dinner.”
“Small spot or somewhere fancy?”
“Fancy as hell. Somewhere I have to wear heels.” Elijah seemed to be excited that I was giving him these answers.
“And what kind of outfit would you wear with those heels? Some shorts, a little two-piece outfit?”
“A dress, Elijah, I said fancy.” He smiled.
“Well, you should find a dress and the place and let me know when to pick you up.”
