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“Thirty ain’t geriatric, and you know I gotta kick it this week. Ain’t been to a homecoming in forever.”
“Cause you been too busy traveling the world!” Sharla oozed pride for her brother.
“You went to school here?” I asked him, my eyes glued to his face. He was so beautiful.
As if just really noticing me, he stared into my eyes and smiled. “Yeah, Cake didn’t tell you? I am a proud Romey U alumnus.”
“Cake?!” Nadia and I chorused.
“Vann,” Sharla groaned. “It’s my nickname, guys.” She glanced down at her phone and added, “Shoot! I need to get to class!”
“I’ll walk you,” Vann said.
Moments later, they were gone with Nadia right behind them, and I was left there, my mind and body reeling. Sharla’s brother was a damn masterpiece.
Nadia and Sharlashared a suite in the Coleman-Carver Honors Dormitory, named after Bessie Coleman and George Washington Carver. The relatively new building located on the western edge of campus housed units that were set up like apartments with private bedrooms. The bathroom, tiny living room, and kitchen were shared by the roommates. Coleman-Carver was also coed. Since I wasn’t there on an academic scholarship or part of the honors program, I stayed in the middle of the hustle and bustle of the campus in Kitt Hall. Named in honor of Eartha Kitt, it was a much older, all girls dormitory with a traditional layout, two or three sharing one room, communal bathrooms and kitchen.
I hated it.
So I often crashed with Nadia and Sharla, utilizing their private shower and bunking on their sofa. It helped that I used to screw Mario Morris, the RA for their floor, so he never bothered them about me being there. I usually stayed in their suite after dance practice since their building was close to the football field. I was usually too tired to make the hike to Kitt Hall after Tam, the leader of our dance team, kicked our asses. I was a majorette at my high school and thought I was pretty fit, but being a dancer with the Romey U marching band was a whole other type of conditioning; they were not playing, but that was what made them elite amongst HBCU dance lines. The Romettes were top tier.
The day I first laid eyes on Vann London, he made an imprint on my mind, causing me to have a hard time staying focused during practice. Tam lit into me, had me running more than the usual three laps, and now I was so exhausted, I was barely able to take a shower and was glad I had the suite to myself. Nadia and Sharla were overachievers, always at meetings or tutoring someone or doing study groups. I, on the other hand, was doing the bare minimum to get by. My childhood was stressful. College was supposed to be my escape. That was why I’d opted to stay on campus when my mom lived just minutes away.
I didn’t eat dinner, too tired to trek to the student Union which housed the cafeteria and restaurants. So I was hungry when I plopped down on my friends’ little sofa, curling up so that my long body fit. Though it was barely 7:00PM, I was nearly asleep when my little Sony Ericsson rang, making me groan. I knew it was Aunt Britta checking in, and since she’d both bought the phone and paid the bill, I answered.
“Hello?” I almost whined.
“Hey! Just checking in. It’s homecoming week so I know dance practice has been rough,” she said, her throaty voice making me smile despite my exhaustion. She’d re-entered my life right when I started college and had really been my only support outside the friends I’d made at Romey. My mom just wasn’t equipped to be of much help to me.
“Yeah, I’m already in bed,” I replied.
“Your dorm?”
“Nah. I’m at Coleman-Carver.”
“Remember whatI told you. Don’t wear out your welcome. You should’ve let me pay for a better room for you.”
Yawning, I agreed. “Yeah, I should’ve. They’re all full now.”
“Next year, then.”
Before I could reply, there was a knock at the door, eliciting yet another groan from me. “Gotta go. Talk to you later. Love you.”
“Love you too, doll.”
Begrudgingly, I threw the cover off my body, unfolded myself, and traipsed the few feet to the door. Nadia had had a key made for me and she and Sharla had their own keys, so it most likely wasn’t one of them. I hoped it wasn’t Mario Morris tryna get some hush pussy. I was not in the mood.
When I opened the door and sawhimstanding there holding a pizza box, I almost peed on myself.
Damn, he was fine!
VANN
She was gorgeous standing there in those tiny shorts and an even tinier shirt. Smooth cocoa brown skin, facial features in perfect symmetry down to those pouty lips, and legs for days. Shit!
Her hair was in long, thin braids, her eyes wide as she stared up at me.
“Uh...what was your name again? I forgot,” I asked.
