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Chapter Ten
Josh
Sure, it was my chosen profession, but the thing I hated about being a professor was the damn grading. It was my own kind of homework and personal hell. I sat in my office on a Friday night, grading the first round of papers for all of my classes. It sucked that I couldn’t have student assistants, for obvious reasons, or else I’d have them grading papers for me.
I glanced at the clock above my desk and sighed. I was halfway through the essays and it was pushing one in the morning. It seemed like half of my weekend was going to be leeched away by grading. I threw in the towel, shut my laptop and walked to the kitchen to pour myself a nightcap. I wondered what Naomi was up to, she hadn’t texted me or called since Wednesday, it had been a week since that night at her apartment. I wondered if I’d done something or said something wrong. Was our age difference to blame? We talked about plenty, there was never an awkward silence between us and yet… I grabbed bourbon off of the dry bar in my living room.
My cell phone started to ring, I slipped it out of my pocket and saw Amy’s name on the screen before I answered, “Hey, what’s up?” It was way too late for her to be calling me.
“I’m drunk at a bar and I…I don’t want to call an Uber or Lyft, that shit is sketchy,” she said.
“Alright, fine. Which bar?” I asked. She murmured the name of one I knew in Wynwood. I told her to hang tight and put the bottle of liquor down to grab my keys from the kitchen counter, where I left them. I wondered if she’d called a sitter for Kaden or what. She should’ve asked me to watch him. Either way, I drove downtown to the bar near Wynwood Walls, passed the walkthrough park of murals and found lucky parking in the small lot behind the bar. The entire block was packed with people, as it usually is. I squeezed through the clumps of people outside of the bar and into the brightly painted building. Merengue music blasted through the bar’s speakers and it’s dancefloor—which occupied eighty percent of the space, the other twenty percent being the bar—was packed. I called Amy when I gave up looking around for her in the crowd. I stood by the end of the bar while the phone rang.
“Josh!” Amy materialized beside me. I almost dropped my phone.
“Fuck, Jesus, Amy,” I yelled and she cracked up. “Where did you come from?
“I was in the bathroom and I saw you standing here so I walked over,” she said and pointed to the nearly hidden alcove behind us that led to the bathrooms. “Oh wow,” she yelled suddenly. A few cheers called my attention to the dancefloor where everyone was staring. Two girls on the dancefloor were dancing to the music as if they’d been dancers for years. Then I realized that I recognized one of them.
“That’s Naomi,” I said.
“Who?” Amy shouted. The song ended and some of the people on the dancefloor gave Naomi and her friend a round of applause. Of course she didn’t notice me. She and her friend walked to the bar, clearly cooling off. A couple of guys who were obviously waiting in the wings, jumped on their chance to talk to them.
“Wait here for a sec,” I told Amy. She looked at me in confusion, I acted on impulse, I knew that. But I couldn’t let some guy try to shoot his shot with Naomi while I was right there. I walked to where Naomi stood at the bar and tapped her shoulder. She glanced behind her and then did a double take and her eyes widened with shock.
“Josh! What are you doing here?” Naomi squeezed passed one of the dudes and I tugged her towards me by the hand and kissed her neck.
“I didn’t know you could dance so well,” I murmured in her ear. Naomi’s cheeks reddened and she shrugged.
“Well…we never got around to talking about that I guess,” she said. I looked her up and down, she wore a short skirt and a tight top with heels. Her hair was curled and loose down her back. I wanted to take her home. The guy trying to talk to her backed off and her friend kept sending me furtive looks. “What are you doing here?” she asked.
“I came to pick up my sister,” I said. Naomi glanced around as if she could spot someone who looked like me. “Do you want to come over to my place later?” I asked. “I live closer to Wynwood than you do,” I added.
“Ah…um, I might not be by until three or something,” she said.
“That’s fine, I can wait up for you,” I said. “That way you don’t have to give any of these guys the time of day,” I added.
Naomi laughed. “Josh, you never struck me as the possessive type and yet…” she shrugged.
“Is that a bad thing?” I asked bluntly.
“It’s…intense,” she said honestly. We stared at each other for a few seconds then she kissed me suddenly. “I’ll see you later,” she whispered and then turned to her friend, who waved at me. I waved back, awkwardly, and turned around. Amy was watching me in utter confusion from the end of the bar.
She didn’t say anything until we got back to the car, where it was quiet. “Who the hell was that?” Amy demanded. I debated ignoring her but knew that wouldn’t stop her from asking me a hundred times until I caved.
“She’s someone I met recently. Naomi. I met her before you set me up on the date, after which I realized how much I liked Naomi instead,” I said.
“So…you guys are dating?” Amy said? “She looks young,” she added.
“How’d you get down here? Do we have to pick up your car in the morning?” I asked.
“I came with some people from the gallery. They took Ubers. I stayed to wait for you. How old is she?” Amy asked.
“I haven’t asked. I heard that was kind of rude to ask a woman,” I said. Amy rolled her eyes.
“What about my other question? You’re dating her?”
“Yeah, Amy. We’re dating. It’s casual, the opposite of being on the marriage track,” I said. Amy chuckled.
