’The things that I would do to you with just a couple seconds...
I would color every moment, make you feel like it’s forever...′
“We’re going.” I shook my head, laughing a little. I’m not much of a party girl at all, but if it’s a passa passa, I’m all for it. Although I wasn’t really up to party, especially not a birthday celebration for some guy I didn’t even know--not to mention there was a Spongebob marathon on--I hadn’t been out in months and Aliyah was very persistent, so, why not? Plus, I had my car now, so I wouldn’t have to worry about paying for an uber. I would, however, not be able to drink, which kinda sucked, but whatever.
“Fine. I will go to the party.”
“Oh, I know. I was just humoring you as if you had a choice in this all.” I rolled my eyes and hung up the phone, looking at the time on the TV. 9:32. The party starts at 10. I take 2 hours to get ready and I have to go from West to East Baltimore to pick her up then head downtown. Oh well. I’ll just be late. I dragged myself from bed and walked to the bathroom to get ready. No makeup, I didn’t have the patience to take an hour to “beat my face” when all that would happen is I would most likely sweat it all off. And since I had no patience to curl my hair, I quickly through a black bandana around my head, letting my hair fall down in the natural wet waves of the hair and slipped into my fitted halter jersey dress, which fit a lot tighter and nicer than before, thanks to a summer of walking up and down hills in Central Valley, NY, and through on my white leather converse to seal the deal before grabbing my phone and keys, glancing at the time. 10:53. Alright.
Aliyah was already ready by the time I got to her house, hearing me coming before I even turned on her street from the loud dancehall blasting from my speakers.
“So where are Alex and Kareemah?”
“They’re waiting outside the place for us.” We got out and I looked around, laughing a little. Already knowing why I was laughing, she shook her head. “We’re not gonna remember where we parked, are we?”
“We can only pray,” I said, laughing full on now. The party was...wow. Downstairs, it was a restaurant, blasting cool air conditioning, which was perfect. There were 2 levels up playing different types of music. Hip hop and R&B on the 2nd level and all the way up on the third was the dancehall and reggaeton. Where did we hit first? Top floor of course. It wasn’t too hot and it wasn’t crowded. We headed straight to the back area, close to the DJ. I wanted to feel the beat in my chest, coursing through my veins. If I was gonna party, I was gonna do it right. The only bad thing, the entire time, guys were coming up and dancing with me, which was fine, I don’t mind, I came to party, but every single one of them fixed their lips and asked for my number afterwards. Whatever happened to just dancing and moving on about your business? I don’t understand. That’s how you can tell American versus Caribbean. Easily. The way American men carry themselves and, especially at this age, approach women is really sad. It doesn’t work on me. I have absolutely no interest in having anyone running all around me, asking where I’ve been, wanting my constant attention and feeling entitled to it. I’ve had my fair share of “friends with benefits”, if you could even call it that, and I’m not eager to get a boyfriend, though I’ve had only 2, neither lasting longer than a year. I prefer to keep to myself. I like being on my own.
“You wanna go downstairs and wait?” Aliyah asked, snapping out of my own thoughts. I nodded and led the way back downstairs into the cool air. I was sweating bullets, back soaking wet and probably more than visible, so I went straight for the fan, setting my phone down on the table beside me. A guy walked over to Aliyah, older, probably about 26 or so, drunk out of his mind, which was more than obvious. He’d danced on her earlier when we’d come down for air, hilarious sight to see. Talking her up all over again, this time accompanied by another guy. I didn’t pay him any attention, much like all of the other men tonight. I couldn’t tell you not one of their names or even what they looked like. The 3 had started up some conversation I was paying no attention to, too busy trying to cool off, all I heard was the older drunk yell “My lightskin!” and gripped Aliyah tight, snapping me out of my zone. I had to laugh at this. And her expression was priceless. She looked as if she was ready to chop this guy’s neck and take out his knee caps.
“That’s fine. I prefer chocolate,” the other guy said, staring down at me and lightly lifting my hand. I stared in shock, actually looking at him now and seeing him. Really seeing him. Tall, about 6′3″, and bulky like a giant muscular teddy bear. And his voice. My God, his voice was filled with so much base I couldn’t help the feeling to do whatever he said. A nice, thick beard, dark hair, and that smile. He most likely had a good number of drinks in him, just as his companion, but he obviously knew how to handle his liquor better.
He lifted my hand to his lips, but instead of kissing it, his tongue flickered out and ran across the back of my hand before taking my index finger into his mouth and slowly pulling it out, eyes trained on me the entire time. I stared back, wide eyed, not knowing what to do or how to respond. I was frozen, shocked. This kind of thing does not happen. I’ve never dealt with it, so how do I respond to it. He pulled me to him, those big strong arms, and lifted me up, shocking me even more in the tight hug, his face buried in my neck, thank god I had cooled down by now. He set me back down on my feet and I just stared forward, mouth agape, unable to speak. All I could do was laugh. It wasn’t funny, but it was at the same time. His thick arms snaked around me, pressing against my back as he led me away from Aliyah. He was speaking to me, that I could tell, but what it was he was saying was a blur. The way his arms felt, the heat radiating from his body, it felt like nothing I’d ever had the pleasure of feeling. I don’t think I could ever feel something like that. The word “phone” registered in my brain and I pointed to it sitting on the table, still relishing in the feel of him as I watched him put his number in my phone.
I remembered one guy had done the same thing, wrapped his arms around me, after I had danced on him a bit, and I instantly felt uncomfortable. I had no idea who he was and I wanted to be released, but he kept trying to get me to give him my number, his hold tight. From that simple thing, I could tell he was possessive. Had a sense of entitlement, like the world owed him something. He felt he could have whatever he wanted. The birthday boy. Aliyah had told me all about him prior and how he acted, so that had to be him. I gave him my number in order to get him the hell off of me.
But this was different. The way this one held me was a different kind of possessive. It felt like I’d known him my whole life, and I hadn’t even spoken to the man. It was like being born again, an almost indescribable feeling. I felt warm and tingly, every care in the world was washed away. The only thing that mattered, the only thing on my mind, was who was right there with me at that very moment and I didn't even know his name. But it didn't matter. There was something about him. He was the only one I had noticed and paid any attention to. The only one who didn't make me feel off.
Aliyah grabbed my hand, bringing me back to reality, and pulled me along with her outside, away from him, my phone in her hand.
"Girl, what is wrong with you?" I shook my head, still in a daze.
"I don't know." I drove her home, using the loud music again to distract her from my distant behavior, then made my way on home. As soon as I got in, I went through my phone of all the unsaved numbers of the guys from the party, looking for his, but none of them clicked. I sat my phone down, sad, then picked it back up and went into the comments until I found one that was new. Ron. That's him. That's it.
A smile formed on my face and I laid back in my bed, staring at it. The angel had a name. I reminisced on the feel of him, of his arms, the warmth, the way I tingled at his touch. Imagined what it'd be like to hold him, to be in his arms, lying in bed, forgetting the world. It was weird, him licking my hand, it's the oddest thing I've ever had to deal with, but I thought of it to. What it'd feel like to kiss him. The feel of his lips on my skin, hands caressing my body. I had to be losing my mind, thinking like this. I've had many, and my two official boyfriends who I at one point loved and cared for, one of which I still did, but this...this is different. No one had ever made me feel like this. It wasn't just lust or curiosity, which I'd experienced. This was more than that. It was so much more than that.