“Why are you in here?” I demanded. “This is the ladies’ room.”
“I see that,” he said, eyes draggin’ over me. “I was already in here when you came in. You just ain’t peep.”
I stared at him, disgust and disbelief fightin’ in my face. “So you just… standin’ in public bathrooms now?”
“I’m makin’ sure you good,” he said, like that made perfect sense. “That’s it.”
I blinked. “How the hell you even know I was here?”
He shrugged like it was nothin’. “I know your mama car. Saw it in the lot.”
My skin prickled.
“So you followed me?” I asked, my voice gettin’ sharper.
He tilted his head. “I was in the area.”
“Which area?” I shot back. “‘Cause this not around the corner from nowhere you usually at.”
He didn’t answer that.
Instead, he pushed off the wall and walked closer, slow.
“You been ignorin’ me,” he said. “Not answerin’ my calls, textin’ me back hours later if at all. I figured either somethin’ was wrong, or you was tryna do that thing you do where you pretend I don’t exist. Either way, I wanted eyes on you.”
I laughed, but it came out more like a shocked breath. “So, you popped up to a whole perfume class and posted up in the women’s bathroom?”
He shrugged again. “I knew you’d come in here eventually.”
My mouth dropped. “You hear yourself?”
“Yeah,” he said. “I hear myself fine.”
“Nigga, this is not normal,” I snapped. “You hidin’ in bathrooms, ridin’ past my people’s spots, watchin’ my movements like you the feds. You know how weird that is?”
“I’m not hidin’,” he said. “I’m observin’.”
“Boy, if you don’t—” I stopped, shakin’ my head. “No. You not about to flip words and make this sound romantic. This is stalker shit.”
He stepped closer, close enough for me to smell his cologne over the perfume oils.
“You act like I don’t know that,” he said low. “I told you before, I’m not healthy about you yet. I know it’s extra. I know it look crazy from the outside.”
“From the outside?” I repeated. “Nigga, it look crazy from the inside. You standin’ in the ladies’ bathroom.”
He smirked again, unbothered. “If another nigga was in here, you’d be grateful I showed up.”
“That’s not the point,” I snapped. “The point is, you not givin’ me a choice. You doin’ all this ‘quiet’ shit without tellin’ me, like you got the right.”
He looked dead at me. “I kept it quiet ‘cause I knew you’d react like this.”
“So you admit it,” I said. “Youhavebeen keepin’ up with me. Following me.”
He shrugged, like we was talkin’ about traffic.
“I check on you,” he said. “I know where you work, where your mama stay, your usual gas station, what days you hit Charlie Mac spot. I don’t bother you every time I see you. I just… keep track.”
My head started poundin’. “You sayin’ that like it’s normal.”
