“I’m up,” I informed her.
“Obviously. I’m leaving now.”
“Okay.” I hung the phone up, but stayed under the covers. Zion lived about twenty minutes away, driving. There was no need to rush. After a few minutes of just lying there, reveling in the feeling of doing nothing, I crawled out from under the covers. What to wear what to wear? Zion liked to party, and even though it was only Tuesday, Zion could be counted on to find a party anywhere, anytime, so it would be wise for me to pack accordingly. But for now, I put on a pair of black leggings, a long, fitted white t-shirt and a pair of Converses. If we did end up going out tonight, I packed a long-sleeved, fitted, camel-colored, suede dress, a pair of brown, suede, thigh-high lace-up boots and a cream colored fur vest. I felt that these colors would go great with my hair. I also packed a t-shirt and comfy shorts to sleep in, my robe, slippers, and towel. For tomorrow, I packed my favorite pair of jeans and a white t-shirt. I threw a couple pairs of panties, socks, and bras into my overnight bag along with my make-up and toiletries. I was ready to go in less than fifteen minutes.
Checking my phone, I realized that it was dying, which reminded me to pack my charger. Double checking to make sure that I had everything, I grabbed my bag and jacket, keys, phone, and wallet, and locked my room door before leaving my room. There were a couple of guys, who didn’t even live here of course, lounging on the living room couch. I tried my best to ignore them as I hustled outside. Luckily, no one was on the stoop of the building. It was nice out; I decided to wait for Zion on the porch. The sun was setting and the sky looked beautiful in shades of purple and pink. I felt better than I had all week.
A few minutes had passed, when a white SUV pulled up in front of the house. I jumped up and grabbed my bags. Zion waved at me from the driver’s seat. There was a guy sitting in the front passenger seat. I recognized him as I got closer to the truck.
“Paris!” I exclaimed as I tossed my bag into the backseat before pulling his door open and embracing him. I hadn’t seen Paris in a long time. He and Zion lived together; sharing a two bedroom apartment but Paris was hardly ever there, having gone away for college. Recently, he had studied abroad in Ethiopia and had just returned at the end of the summer. The African sun had baked him at least three shades darker than his usual chocolatey self.
“Hey beautiful!” Paris exclaimed as he kissed me on the cheek. He looked me up and down and all around. “Butt is definitely fatter. Aye!” I started shaking my butt while Paris spanked it playfully. We all laughed as I walked around to the other side of the truck and climbed into the back passenger seat.
*****
Once I had my seat belt on, Zion put the car in drive and sped off. Both of the front seat windows were down, and a nice breeze came in. I put my window down and let the cool air caress my face. Zion turned down the music so that we could all talk.
“So how was Ethiopia?” I asked Paris.
“Amazing!” he answered. Paris began going in detail about his once in a lifetime experience in the motherland, while we listened in awe.
“I gotta go before I die,” I said.
“Let’s all go! We need to travel!” Paris suggested.
“How? You know Lele’s terrified of planes,” Zion remarked, using my nickname.
“I am not terrified of them; I just don’t like them. We could take a boat,” I suggested. The conversation drifted to the different places we’d like to travel to and then to silence as everyone got lost in their own thoughts.
Zion turned the music back up and we rode the rest of the way to her apartment singing to the music. Once we got to the apartment, Zion parked and everyone hopped out of the car.
“So, what are we doing tonight?” I asked, breaking the silence.
“Nothing.” Zion answered without looking at me. I raised an eyebrow.
“Nothing?” I asked, not masking my surprise. Zion grinned and I knew that she was lying. Zion let us into the apartment. The smell of food cooking greeted us at the door. Zion’s fraternal twin sister Asha was in the kitchen cooking. Asha had been staying in Paris’ room while he was away. I wondered where she was going to go now that he was back. Zion and Asha were like complete opposites. Zion had large round breasts and no butt and Asha had no breasts and a big butt. They both had long, bone-straight black hair that they wore down to their waists. They both had doe-shaped brown eyes and the most beautiful clear dark brown skin.
“Hey Asha!” I exclaimed, genuinely happy to see her. I hadn’t been over in a while so it been a long time since we had last seen each other. Asha beamed at me.
“Hey Lele!What is up?!” Asha asked as she exited the kitchen and gave me a warm hug.
“I’m trying to figure that out myself,” I told her as I plopped down onto the couch. Paris sat down beside me and Zion sat on his lap. Although Paris was a self-proclaimed homosexual man, he and Zion were always flirting. I suspected that they wanted to hook up with one another.
“So I got a one hundred dollar tip today,” I said, pausing for a moment before adding, “from this white football player.”
“Drinks on you tonight!” Asha exclaimed.
“You sure that all you did was clean? Is there something that you’re not telling us?” Zion teased. I rolled my eyes.
“Was he cute?” Asha asked.
“Yes girl. And he had a super nice body too. There was a phone number written on the tip.”
“Did you call it?” Zion asked.
“No, not yet.”
“What are you waiting for?” Zion prodded. “Call him, call him!” Asha joined in and then so did Paris, all three of them chanting ‘Call him, call him!’ I wasn’t sure that I wanted to call him while they were around, so I resisted.
“Food’s ready!” Asha announced from the kitchen. Asha had prepared pork spare ribs with barbecue sauce, boiled corn on the cob and mashed potatoes. We each fixed ourselves a plate and poured tall glasses of one of two bottles of wine that Zion had surprised us with. We kept drinking long after we had finished eating.
We really didn’t go anywhere that night, but we all got drunk as hell. We had all taken turns dancing with Paris and then Zion and Paris ended up making out like drunken fools. Zion took Paris’ hand and led him to his bedroom. I suspected that they would end up having sex, finally. Asha fell asleep on the floor. I lay on the couch, not yet tired. I took out my wallet and pulled out the hundred dollar bill. I stared at the phone number. Feeling a surge of confidence from all of the liquid courage that I had consumed that night, I took out my phone and dialed.
*****
It was late, I was drunk, and I was calling him. After a few rings, I started to lose my nerve, but then he answered.
“Hello?”
“Hello?” I repeated.
“Who’s this?” he demanded. I smiled awkwardly; glad that he couldn’t see me. I didn’t even know what to say or how to go about this.
“I got your number today at the hotel,” I began, hoping that he would remember and understand. I closed my eyes and held my breath. There was a long pause filled with silence as he thought.
“I was wondering when you were going to call,” he finally said. My face broke into a smile.
“When?” I asked.
“Yeah, when,” he answered cockily. I liked his attitude, although it caught me off guard. Asha started snoring so I decided to take this conversation out onto the balcony.
“So what took you so long?” he asked.
“Took me so long for what?”
“To call.”
I closed the screen door to the balcony behind me and sat down on a rocking chair. The night was cool, the wine coursing through my veins kept me warm. I stared at the clear, starlit sky.
“I wasn’t sure if I was going to. I didn’t even know if it was your number or not,” I admitted. Another pause.
“Well I’m glad that you did,” he told me.
“Why is that?” I asked, wondering if he could hear that I was smiling.
“Because I’d like to get to know you.” I bit my lip and stood up. Energy was surging through my body and I couldn’t stay seated. I needed to pace.
“Do you usually give out hundred dollar tips with your phone number on them to unsuspecting innocent housekeepers?” I teased.
“Innocent?” he teased back, faking incredulity.
“Yea, innocent!” I snapped. He ignored me.
“To answer your question, no. To be honest, I don’t usually tip housekeeping at all,” he admitted. I gasped and we both laughed. “Hear me out! I know you noticed how clean my room was. I feel like, that is my tip.” He was dead serious. I sucked my teeth.
“So why me?” I probed.
“I want to see you again,” he said seriously. My heart was pounding in my chest. “What are you doing?”
“I’m at my friends’ house. One of my best friends just got back from overseas so we were celebrating.”
“Oh, so you’ve been drinking?” I could hear him smiling now.
“Maybe.”
“Where are you?” he asked.
“Why?”
“Because I want to see you.”
“Now?” I asked, caught off-guard by how forward he was being.
“Yes.”
“No.” I said firmly.
“Why not?” he asked. I could tell that he wasn’t used to being told no. I rolled my eyes.
“Because I just met you. It’s the middle of the night. I’ve been drinking. Shall I go on?” I said, attitude seeping into my words. I hoped that I hadn’t turned him off but I had to be honest. He was quiet again.
“I respect that.” I smiled. “How about brunch then?” I laughed. I admired his persistence. He didn’t even give me a chance to think about it. “I could pick you up in the morning.”
“No.” I said before I could stop myself.
“No?” he demanded. I quickly realized that I enjoyed telling him no. “Why?”
“Because I’m spending time with my friends.” To my surprise, he laughed.
“I like that,” he said.
“Like what?” I asked.
“You.”
I rolled my eyes. “Baby steps,” I told him.
“Baby steps,” he repeated.
“Baby steps.”
“Okay,” I could imagine him nodding. “I’ll call you tomorrow then?”
“I’d like that.” I told him.
“Goodnight beautiful,” he said.
“Goodnight.” I smiled and hung up. I did a little dance before heading back inside. I liked the way I had handled that conversation. I could tell that if I would have given in to his demands, he would have most definitely tried to have sex with me. I shook my head. No nono, he was going to have to work for this. It finally hit me that I still didn’t even know his name.
Asha was no longer lying on the floor so I assumed that she had gone to sleep in Zion’s bed. I tiptoed until I was standing outside of Paris’ room. I held my breath and put an ear to the door, listening intently. Silence. Maybe they hadn’t had sex after all. I opened the hallway closet door and grabbed a comforter. I turned off the lights and lay down on the couch, covering myself with the comforter. I was soon asleep.
*****
I awoke to the smell of bacon frying. This time, Paris was cooking. The sun was shining but today I welcomed the morning. I’d much rather wake up to the smell of breakfast than to my alarm clock announcing that it was time to get ready for work. Asha and Zion were still asleep. I checked the time; it was 7:45 in the morning. Still fairly early. I was thankful to not have a hangover, but I hadn’t drank enough for that. I climbed off of the couch and headed into the kitchen. Every burner had a pan frying something on it. Pancakes, eggs, bacon, a pot of grits. I walked up next to Paris, peering at all of the food.
“Damn, Zion must have put it down last night,” I teased. Paris rolled his neck and gave me a look.
“Don’t do that,” he said dryly.
“Just woke up and already gossiping!” Zion snapped from the doorway. I grinned and pulled myself up to sit on the counter.
“I’m saying though…” I waved at Zion’s outfit. She was wearing a large t-shirt that I assumed belonged to Paris, although I had never seen him wear clothes that big. Zion rolled her eyes at me and opened the refrigerator. She bent over to retrieve the orange juice, and I got an eyeful of bare ass with no panties.
“Zion, why don’t you have any drawls on?”
Zion took her time standing up, and then closed the refrigerator. We all burst out laughing.
“I can explain,” Zion began. I gave her the hand.
“Save it.”
“No, for real! I never sleep with undies on. Gotta let my coocoo air out,” Zion said. We all laughed again.
“Your coocoo?” Paris repeated.
“Ah, I’m so glad that I decided to stay for breakfast,” I said.
“You were planning on leaving?” Paris asked, looking at me.
“I don’t know how. I wasn’t about to wake up and drive you,” Zion said taking a swig straight from the orange juice container. Paris snatched the bottle from her lips.
“Nasty!” he muttered, taking down a cup from a cabinet, pouring orange juice into it and handing it to Zion. Zion took it and stuck her tongue out at him.
“I called the football player last night,” I announced. I had all eyes on me now.