“Aren’t you in charge of something? Does a student need their affairs handled? Got a whole homecoming weekend to manage? Surely there’s something more worthy of your attention than a kiss between Touré and me way back when.”
“So itwasyou!” She points a triumphant finger at me. “I knew it.”
“Water under the bridge.”
“Oh, I got your bridge, honey.” She glances around. “All this is making me a little horny. Where’s that sweet cousin of yours who was talking big about wanting this fine wine?”
“Oh, my god. You are too much. Believe it or not, Ron saw some of his friends from State who are here for the step show, and he’s sitting over there. He’ll probably hang with them all night.”
“Invasion of the PWI’s. Creeping over here to see how the HBCU do.”
We lean against each other, sharing a laugh.
“Speaking of creeping.” Janelle nods to the door. As soon as I stopped watching, the very man I’ve been looking for all night walked in. “Our old friend just arrived and has Kyle with him. He told me he was coming.”
I barely notice Kyle beside Touré, though he’s just as tall, and in his own way, just as attractive. Even with the huge room separating us, the connection between Touré and me is instant; a thread pulled tautly between us. A throb that settles low in my belly with a kaleidoscope of butterflies. He’s not smiling, but his stare on me is intense, and though he’s stopped every few seconds, he’s headed straight for me. Us. For . . .us.
“That Kyle is still fine, too,” Janelle says. “He’s been back for a few panels and programs here at the school, so we’ve talked through the years. He and Touré have always been close.”
“Yeah, he mentioned Kyle is Celine’s godfather.”
Celine sits at the center of a group of her sorority sisters on bleachers across the room. In preparing for the interview with Touré I saw photos of her mother, and she’s a great blend of them both. Though it’s her eyes—dark, longlashed and keenly intelligent—where I see the greatest resemblance to her father. He stops there briefly, hugs Celine and greets her friends before moving on.
I sensed the tension between them before the interview. There is always a price for success at the level Touré and I have obtained. You hope the price isn’t steeper than you can afford. For me, it became my marriage. My ex wanted me to besomething I couldn’t. Wanted things I couldn’t give him. It took us a few years to give up on it, but now we’re great friends. I know many close relationships fell to the wayside as Touré climbed. I hope the damage with his daughter is not irreparable. Maybe they’ll find some time this weekend, though she’ll be busy with her obligations as homecoming queen.
Nelle has to go handle a thousand details I’m sure need her attention. I huddle on the front row with the camera guy here capturing some footage of the step show for the segment we’ll air next week. After a few minutes, he also leaves, going to set up shots of the step teams. So I’m alone by the time the two men who used to be some of my closest friends finally reach me.
“Niomi!” Kyle hugs me so hard and tight my feet leave the floor.
I squeal and lightly pound on his back. “Boy, if you don’t put me down!”
I’m laughing when he sets me on the floor and a few inches away to study my face.
“Still pretty as ever,” Kyle says, his gaze respectfully appreciative and assessing. “I missed my chance with you.”
I roll my eyes because Kyle dated the same girl, an education major, all through college and eventually married her.
“Don’t even try it,” I scoff. “You only had eyes for Bev and I know for a fact the two of you are deep into your happily ever after.”
“True, but make no mistake,” Kyle says, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “We all set sights on you at freshman orientation, but I knew my boy was feeling you, even though he didn’t shoot his shot.”
I flick a nervous glance up to Touré, who stands silent, a slight smile on his face as he studies me closely, but makes no move to engage.
“WhereisBeverly?” I ask Kyle, ignoring his provocative comment and Touré for the moment.
“She was coming, but one of our boys is sick. She didn’t want me to miss the centennial, though, especially not with this one finally showing up for a homecoming.”
He elbows Touré, who only grunts at his friend’s lighthearted chiding.
Janelle returns, her expression lighting up at the sight of Kyle.
“I was hoping we’d get to see you,” she says, reaching up to give him a hug. “Bev not with you?”
“Sick kid.” He shrugs. “You know how it goes.”
“Sorry to hear that.” Janelle says. “She is definitely your better half.”
“No arguments from me,” Kyle chuckles.
