for those of you who missed it, my very first short story was published on the Hellz blog in its entirety. here, I present part 1 of Midnight Marauders. (based on a true story, just not mine. lol) if you like what u see, check parts 2, 3, and 4 !!!!! and make sure to check back with Hellz every Thursday for something new! A brand new story drops this Thursday =)
I hear the sound of my phone go off and immediately my face morphs into an expression of half-nervousness, half-guilt, and half normalcy. Wait. Thats three halves.. I’m even confusing myself and look at my girls to see if they’ve noticed my awkwardness. They haven’t. Phew.
I put my phone on vibe and check my incoming text. “Come over?”
I look over at the sender of the text who happens to be sitting in the same car and he has this smirk on his face. The same smirk he wore earlier in the night when he said I looked nice. The same smirk he worked when he asked me to dance. The same smirk I smiled back at when he bought my first drink. The same smirk that is dooming me to hell tonight.
The last three weeks of flirting have come to an apex tonight. Tonight, when we danced just a little too close to each other.. Tonight, when I laughed a little too hard at his jokes.. Tonight, when we stared at each other just a little too long… Tonight, when I could possibly be in his bed..
I text back two letters. “OK” and I instantly feel the butterflies in my stomach start to dance. Almost as fast as they do, I hear the nagging voice of my conscience (who sounds a lot like my boyfriend) tell me to take my ass home.
Yes, I have a boyfriend. A loving and caring boyfriend who is a wonderful father to his beautiful daughter (not mine, I am not ready to give up this body). Its 3 am right now and he’s probably just getting home from his late shift at the hospital. He’s a good guy.. He’s a GREAT guy. So then what am I doing? *sigh* I tell myself that if he texts me or calls me, I’m going home.
But I know he won’t. He never does. He never puts up a fight when I wear a skirt thats too short, or never bugs me about who I’m going out with or where I’m going or even when I’ll be coming home. My girls just say that he just trusts me like that… but I think I know better.
I think he just doesnt care.
And with that thought, my mind changes gears from Mr. Right to Mr. Right Now and I come up with a story so fast I even surprise myself. My fingers are typing a mile a minute as I text The Smirker my thoughts. He smirks. Go figure.
The car stops and two of my girls hop out. I rode with them earlier so I should technically ride with them back, but the lies come out of my mouth so easy and before I know it, the car is moving and I’m still in it. 1 more stop and we’ll be alone. I nonchalantly look over at him as he’s furiously typing into his blackberry. Why does he gotta be so gadamn good looking? I can feel my bra start to unsnap itself and I quickly look away hoping I havent already busted myself out.
My heart almost jumps out of my chest. I close my eyes and wish for half a second that its my boyfriend, telling me to come home.. telling me how much he loves me.. shit, even just askin me where I’m at. I look down and read it. As soon as I do, all of a sudden my ears start to ring and I can’t see straight. My heart is beating so hard I hear actual drums in my head and I ask myself what the hellz I’m doing? I hesitate for just a second as I take one more look at my gorgeous smirker.
I hit reply. I smirk.