“Don’t. I haven’t been into anything. Moving with the wind and keeping it low.”
She stared at me for a while, mentally picking apart my statement if I had to guess. “Well, you look like you’re getting sleep, so I won’t worry too much.”
“So, what’s up?” I asked, studying her. Something about her whole demeanor was off right now.
“Um… there is something I need to talk to you about. I need you to—” Then there was a knock at her door and she immediately opened it. “Come in.” A man in a suit stepped in seconds later.
“We’ll talk very soon, Li. I promise.” Her eyes said something her lips didn’t utter.
I left her office seconds later, a little put off, but I assumed she’d talk to me about whatever it was soon.
Me:Are you home?
Iso: ’boutta be onna way. You coming through?
Me:Yeah.
I looked over our text thread overthinking. I didn’t do any of this, but I was drawn to him. This was the first time since we’d started this friendship that I’d reached out, asking if he was home. Usually, it was him who needed a break or some sort of release. Yet here I was, less than eight hours after leaving his space, on my way back.
I stopped and grabbed a deep dish and a basic pizza before heading his way. I paid enough attention to know he liked the most basic of foods. He ate different stuff but preferred regular food without any of the extra things that made it extravagant.
When I pulled up to his house, I must’ve met him there because he was sitting in the car. When he saw me, he reached above his head and pushed the button for the garage door to open because he never used the garage. His truck was always parked out front, facing the street, in the driveway.
I got out of the car just as he approached my door. I then went around and grabbed the pizzas from my other seat before finally giving him my full attention. That was before he took the boxes from me and backed up enough so I could enter his space first.
When we entered, I did my usual, taking my shoes off at the door. He set the food on the center island, then emptied the contents of his pockets there. His wallet, a pack of gum, and his gun sat there before he moved further in to remove his hoodie and top layer T-shirt. I paid this man too much attention, so much that I had his routine committed to memory.
While he went to get more comfortable, I pulled my own gun from my side and put it on the island along with my phone. Sometimes attention needed to be pointed and not split. That much I had learned when it came to his space and him.
“What type did you get?”
“Regular and deep dish.”
He nodded, then I felt his eyes.
When I looked up from the napkin I was using to dry my hands, we locked eyes. “You good?”
Concern was etched in his features.Shit, was I good?
“Yeah, why do you ask?”
“’Cause I wanted to know. You know you don’t have to be on that tough shit with me, Killa.” He grabbed paper plates from near the sink and handed me one.
“I’m not tough, just detached.”
He nodded. “Aren’t we all? Detachment doesn't mean you don’t feel anything. I tell you what I’m thinking and feeling all the time.”
I understood where he was coming from… a little too well, even though he did kind of a piss poor way of describing it.
I shocked myself when I started speaking, telling him about the things in my day that bothered me. “I had a conversation with my sister and it made me feel a way because I also had the same conversation with my baby sister about a week and a half ago. I thought my answer sufficed. It’s like they think I’m gonna drop off the face of the earth on them with no warning.”
“Are you?” he asked, his eyes heavy on me.
“No, I haven’t even answered my boss’s phone call. And before you ask why, I don’t know.”
“Stillness, you don’t know how to admit it, but you like it.” He moved around the counter and stood next to me.
“Maybe, maybe not. I’m not ready to admit that part aloud just yet.”
