Zane's the Other Side of the Pillow (4 page)

She sucked her teeth. “I'm not that damn nasty!”

“At this point, I wouldn't put anything past you.” It suddenly hit me. “You've never fucked someone in my bed while I'm at work, have you?”

“No, don't nobody want to fuck in your scraggly little queen-size bed when I have a California King. As much as you play in your pussy, ain't nobody got time for that.”

I laughed, picked up a pillow, and threw it at her head. I did have quite the toy collection to knock the edge off. “Get out of my room. I have to be at work in five hours.”

She got up and headed out. “What did you think about Dominic and Kay Kay?”

I shrugged as I reached for my lamp switch to cut it off. “What is there to think? You were just doing them, right? Or are you contemplating doing some kind of polyamorous nonsense?”

“I don't even know what the fuck that is,” Winsome responded sarcastically.

“The Devil is a liar. You know exactly what it is.”

She grinned. “We were just doing it. They're actually siblings, though.”

I stopped worrying about the lamp switch. “Siblings? That's disgusting.”

“It wasn't disgusting for me, and it's not like they did anything together.”

“Didn't they?”

“No, they did not. You didn't see no shit like that going down. Both of them were doing me, but that's it.”

I glared at Winsome like she was crazy. “You need to chill before you end up with some incurable disease and come crying on my shoulder.”

“Get some sleep. I'll holler.”

Winsome closed the door and as I was reaching for the lamp switch again, I noticed a text message that must have come in during my shower. It was from Tevin.

JUST CHECKIN ON U TO MAKE SURE U GOT HOME

Damn, even surgeons are using text shorthand,
I said to myself.

But it did make me blush and that was a feeling that was both unexpected and unwelcomed. There was no way that I was trying to catch feelings for him, but it was going to be a challenge unless I refused to ever see him again.

I opted not to respond to the text, cut off the light, and laid there in the dark struggling to fall asleep. I got maybe two hours total before I had to get up and head to school.

“The giving of love is an education in itself.”

—Eleanor Roosevelt

A
ll students, please report to your homerooms immediately.”

Lilibeth Parker was the school secretary. I am not sure why she felt the need to make that announcement every school day. There was not a single student in the entire high school that didn't realize their asses needed to be in their respective homerooms by eight thirty-five
AM
or they'd be considered tardy.

“Lilibeth, did we ever get those test scores in?”

“No, not yet, Ms. Daniels. Do you want me to call the school board and check on them?”

I stood beside her desk, considering how I wanted to respond. “No, that's okay. Hopefully, they'll arrive by this afternoon. I'll be in my office if you need me.”

“Gotcha.”

I went into my office, closed the door, sat down at my desk, and waited to see if any drama would start so early in the morning. I had instilled fear in the majority of my students by implementing a zero-bullshit tolerance policy and making examples out of people who tried to come for me before I came for them. I was among the youngest of principals in the DC Public Schools system and I was determined not to fail in the position that I had held for the past three years. That was why I was concerned about seeing the test scores; I didn't want to appear to be in an all-out panic, though.

The federal No Child Left Behind Act had forced the DC Public Schools to comply with Adequate Yearly Progress (AYP) rules
or face major consequences. A lot of the schools failed miserably on a yearly basis. We had failed the first year that I was here, but I turned it around by threatening to put foot to ass with any of my teachers whom I felt had funky attitudes. I did not literally kick them, but I made it clear that heads would roll if they did not start assessing the students who were struggling and offer them additional assistance. I did not care when they did it—before school, during recess, or after school—but if they truly cared, it should not have been a big deal. Teachers customarily have a shorter workday than most and get summers off so it was what it was.

I was about to eat my vanilla crumb muffin and drink the coffee that I had purchased at a local organic market on my way to work when my cell phone rang. It was Tevin. This was going to be a test to gauge how he received being neglected via text messages. Honestly, he was about to get a piece of my mind.

I smirked and answered the phone. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, Jemistry. It's Tevin.”

I acted as if his number wasn't already saved in my phone, rather less already embedded in my memory. “Oh, hey. I didn't recognize the number. How are you?”

“I'm fine. I take it that you arrived home safely last night. I sent you a text.”

“Wow, did you? I didn't see it. I'm not too hype on texting. It seems kind of detached and impersonal to me.”

He got quiet for a few seconds. “I see. Well, I wasn't sure if I should call you that late. I didn't want to risk waking you up.”

“Then your plan worked because I was sleeping like a baby.” I took a sip of my coffee. “But in theory, the chime from the text message could have woken me up as well.” My tone reeked of sarcasm. “I'm just saying.”

“True. Anyway, I'll keep in mind that you are not a fan of text messages.”

“Let me ask you a question, Tevin. Before there was text messaging, how did you communicate with people who were not right in front of you? How did you let them know you were thinking about them? That they were special to you?”

“Well, I would call them like I'm doing right now.”

I played with my muffin, which looked and smelled delicious, but I didn't dare put even a morsel in my mouth. I didn't feel like we were at the point where I wanted to be eating on the phone while we spoke. That was kind of a trifling habit, but with my schedule, it was not unusual for me to engage in it.

“That's how I would communicate,” he continued. “As for letting a person know that I am thinking about them, I would probably send them flowers with a card letting them know my sentiments.”

“I like flowers, so maybe I'll receive some one day.”

“Maybe you will.”

Both of us got quiet, as though we were searching the caverns of our minds to come up with a topic. We had spoken for hours the night before, so it was quite awkward.

“I'd better go check and make sure the hallways are empty, except for security guards. Some of my students will do the most when they think they can get away with it.”

“You have a lot of students play hooky?”

I giggled. “Yeah, there are some usual suspects. Most will straighten up once I alert their parents and they get in trouble. The ones with parents who don't care are a different issue.”

Lilibeth was knocking on my door.

“Come in!” I winced when I realized that I had screamed in Tevin's ear. “Sorry for yelling.”

“It's cool. I'll let you go so you can go hold down the fort. I have some patient files to look over. My first surgery isn't until around noon.”

“Sounds good.” I gasped when Lilibeth entered with a bouquet comprised of a few dozen roses and several clusters of baby's breath. “Oh my goodness!”

“What happened? Is everything okay?” Tevin asked from the other end of the line.

I snickered and grinned from ear to ear. “My secretary just entered with a beautiful bouquet of flowers. Thank you.”

Lilibeth set the vase down on my desk and handed me the card that was attached to a plastic stick.

“You're assuming they're from me?” he asked. “They could be from one of your other admirers.”

“Oh, I'm sure they're from you.” I blushed, even though he couldn't see my face. “That was very sweet of you.”

“So am I forgiven about the texting?”

“Yes, you're forgiven.”

Lilibeth smiled and left out as I opened the card. It read:

Jemistry,

I realize that we just met but I want to be “the example” of what a man should be instead of “another example” of what a man should never be. You are beautiful, smart, and entertaining and I hope to see you again.

xoxoxo

Tevin

“These are wonderful. Thank you,” I repeated.

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“Can I see you again?”

I could tell that he was somewhere between anxious and nervous about my reply.

“Um, sure. I told you last night that we could hang out again.”

“I don't want to
hang
with you. I want to court you. There is a difference.”

I sat there in silence for a moment. “Tevin, I agree that there's a definite chemistry between us, but I don't necessarily think that I'm relationship material right now. Do you not remember my poem from last night?”

“Yes, I remember your poem. I also remember the painful expression on your face as you recited it. I want to be the one to change that expression to something more exhilarating, more gratified, and more surreal.” He paused. “And while I definitely agree that there is chemistry, I see more than that. I see a possibility.”

Dammit, this man is about to take my breath away!
I thought to myself. Then that thought was immediately followed by fear . . . the fear of being hurt again. Tevin's word game was tight, but I had been hoodwinked by the crème de la crème of slick talkers before.

When I didn't say anything, he added, “But we can take things slow. How about dinner tonight?”

I couldn't help but laugh. “That's what you call taking it slow?”

“That's what I call breaking bread together and continuing to get to know each other. You can pick the spot.”

“No, you pick it this time,” I insisted. “Your choice of restaurant will tell me something about you.”

“Hmm, the only thing that it might tell you is that I like good food. How about The Oceanaire Seafood Room on F and Twelfth Streets about seven thirty? Ever been there?”

“Not yet, but I've heard nothing but great things about it. Count me in.”

For the rest of the school day, I felt like I was hiking on air. There was something about the man that turned me on. However, I didn't want to risk actually falling for him so I did the one thing that any confused woman attempting to avoid falling in love would do: I went over to Anthony's place after work and fucked the shit out of him.

“You never lose by loving. You always lose by holding back.”

—Barbara De Angelis

W
here have you been?” Anthony asked the second he opened the front door to his house.

“I don't have to report to you.” I entered, kicked off my brown leather pumps, and let my tan suit jacket fall to the floor. “We're friends with benefits, remember?”

As I walked straight upstairs to his bedroom, he shut the door and followed me. “I understand all that. Friends with benefits, cuddle buddies, whatever. But does that mean we can't socialize outside of my bedroom?”

“What the hell do you want to socialize for, Anthony?” I stood in front of his bed and started removing all of my clothing. “We start socializing and you might catch feelings, or I might catch feelings, and then that fucks up the entire arrangement.”

He crossed his arms in rebelliousness, but as soon as I took my bra and panties off, his eyes were glued to my body.

“I don't like the term
arrangement
. You make it sound like I'm a male escort or something.”

“The only thing that I want you to escort me to is a hellified climax so I can hop in the shower and keep my dinner appointment.”

“Appointment or date?” he asked vehemently.

I smacked my lips and didn't bother to respond.

Anthony was about five-nine, much shorter than Tevin, had a few extra pounds on the belly, light-skinned with a bald head, and a gorgeous smile. We had met about a year before in the produce
section of Shoppers Food Warehouse. Before I actually picked up a man in a grocery store, I always believed that it being a hot spot was nothing more than an urban legend, or a marketing ploy for certain major chains. But there he was, grinning at me as I selected some limes to make a homemade key lime pie.

I had made it clear to him from the beginning that I was not interested in dating him. But we did hang out—movies, dinner, walks in the park—until it came time for me to cut the bullshit and confiscate the dick. I made sure that we were both tested for every STD known to man before we actually did anything. He bitched about it at first, but when I informed him that getting tested meant the possibility of one day fucking me and not getting tested meant that he might as well lose my number, he got the tests done.

“Are you going to stand over there staring at me, or are you going to come over here and commence to fucking?” I asked and then turned around, making a show of exposing my entire caramel ass as I climbed on top of his bed. “I love the way that you hit all of this from the back. My pussy is in distress. Please . . . put it out of its misery.”

I could hear him approaching behind me, removing his wife beater and shorts along the way. “This is the last time I'm doing this, Jemistry.”

“That's what you said the last time, and the time before that, and the time before that.” I turned over, lay on my back, spread my legs, and started playing in my pussy with my fingers. “See how juicy Abigail is?”

Anthony laughed. “You and your dumbass nicknames for your pussy. Every time you come through, you name her something different. Who the fuck is Abigail?”