Lennox
Most of us were out here figuring shit out. As much as I tried to rise above things, be the bigger person in any situation, there were times when I wanted to fuck some shit up.And I did. Because no matter what I’d done to protect myself and my reputation, the mere allegation of inappropriateness on my part could potentially destroy my life.
Therefore, when another professor had slipped into my Hip Hop and Sociology Class to “observe,” I knew something wasn’t right. Everything had started out as planned with a brief discussion about the lyrical analysis paper before I segued into a discussion on the early history of hip hop and its influence on the Black community during the crack epidemic. Unfortunately, his presence had distracted some of the students—especially when he’d raised his hand to ask two questions that had nothing to do with the topic and everything to do with me and my teaching methods.
Things went downhill from there, culminating in a full-blown argument—about Dory. The woman was wanted by the police, yet she’d still managed to turn my world upside down with her bullshit. And even though my Department Chair, the authorities, and most of the faculty believed me, that one damn professor had made it his mission to help Dory get justice. Which meant he was coming for my job.
“Maybe you shouldn’t have cussed his ass out?” Emerie shrugged when I glared at her. “Just sayin’.”
Vaughn sipped his beer. “Nah, you definitely should’ve cussed him out. You did good to not beat his ass.”
Emerie’s mouth fell open. “Vaughn.” She smacked him. “Don’t encourage that type of behavior.”
I gave Vaughn a pound. “Believe me, I thought about it.”
“But then you’d be in jail,” Emerie said. “And Dad would’ve never let you hear the end of it.”
They hadn’t said anything I didn’t already know. From the time I could reason, my father had told me to “never let a muthafucka pull you off your square.” And he’d promised that I’d have to deal with him if I did get caught slippin’. I’d taken that lesson with me in high school, in college, and beyond. I knew better than to let a colleague get under my skin.
Vaughn rubbed the back of his neck. “Man, I’m not scared or anything. But your Pops… I still remember when he mopped the floor with me after I challenged him to a boxing match.”
Glancing at my watch, I laughed. “I told you to shutcho ass up that day, but you didn’t listen.” Vaughn had had a tumultuous family life growing up, and as a result had a huge chip on his shoulder that my father had been happy to knock off. “Always talking shit.”
Shrugging, Vaughn said, “I learned that day.”
“What did Dad say when you told him what happened?” Emerie asked, leaning forward.
“You know what he said,” I told her, recalling the short conversation I’d had with my father after I’d left the office today. Pops had immediately turned into Jeffrey Cole, Esquire. By the time I’d gotten off the phone, I had a legal plan of action mapped out and an attorney from his firm retained. “Loren is representing me.”
“That’s good.” Emerie squeezed my hand. “Everything is going to be okay, Len. Dory will be a bad memory in a matter of weeks.”
Checking the time again, I murmured, “I hope so.”
Vaughn eyed me skeptically. “What’s up, bruh? You late to something?”
“Nah, man.”
“You do keep checking your watch,” Emerie pointed out. “Are you waiting for someone?”
Blake had shocked me when she’d agreed to join us for dinner. Up until now, we’d been in our own little world, choosing to spend time with each other and avoiding group situations. She’d stated she didn’t want the pressure from her family to define our relationship. For my part, I wanted her to myself. I’d taken advantage of every hour, every second I’d spent with her, exploring her mind and her body. And it still wasn’t enough. I always wanted more of her.
Clearing my throat, I muttered, “I invited someone to dinner.”
“Your girlfriend?” Emerie asked.
“Afriend,” I corrected.
Immediately, Emerie hit me with a barrage of questions. Where was she from? Was she pretty? Did I like her? Were we serious? “I mean, you have to tell me something?” she said. “You invited her to dinner without telling us. I want to know all about her.”
“Maybe he’ll answer a question if you stop talking, baby?” Vaughn suggested.
I let out a deep breath, relieved my best friend caught my need for a reprieve. “Her name is Blake,” I shared. “We just started hanging out. Nothing serious.”Yet. “And that’s all I’m telling you.”
“Bet,” Vaughn said. “Let’s eat.”
Emerie rolled her eyes and elbowed my best friend in the gut. “Don’t play me.” She folded her arms over her chest and told me, “I’m not satisfied with that answer. I need to know more.”
Needing a change of subject, I leaned back. “Enough about me. What’s up with y’all? I thought we weren’t seeing you until the summer?”
