We ride down the empty street and rain begins to patter on the hood. Silence fills the space of the car, and you run your hand up and down my thigh. Something in me tingles to the sensation of your touch.
“You hungry?” I ask.
“Starving.”
“What do you want? I don’t know whats open, but…”
“A burger. Oh my god, a burger,” you moan and rest your head back against the seat. You grip my thigh firmly as I make a U-turn toward the only spot I know that has the best burgers and fries at this time of night.
We pull into the diner and you link your arm into mine as we walk in. All at once I notice your drunken sway and I smell alcohol on your body that I didn’t notice before. I am baffled and shaken inside, but determined to help you.
We sit down and both order double cheeseburgers and steak fries. You eat your burger with mayonnaise and I eat mine with mustard, ketchup, and pickles. I order a beer, but dare not to actually drink it. You order ice water and we hold each other’s hand across the sticky table under the dim lighting. We talk about music and romance; how we want to make love on the beach and have breakfast underneath a sunset. I stare into your eyes as you smile and tell me about one of your political science classes. You shake your head as you explain that your professor unrightfully gave you a C- on an essay you spent two weeks writing. I kiss your fingers and offer to edit your next essay. You agree and yawn. I pay our tab and we ride the rest of the way to your place inside the saxophone of a new jazz artist I’m into.
When we pull up to your place, I cut the music off and park the car.
“You gonna be okay?”
“I think so. Thank you, Dauhd. For being you. For accepting me.”
“Aint no thing, woman,” I smile and look over at you, “Just assure me that you aren’t fucking that guy up there.”
You pull your keys out of your purse and lean over to grace me with a sloppy kiss on my cheek.
“I don’t let him touch me. And as soon as the semester is over, I’m moving out. I’m calling off this stupid wedding as soon as possible.”
“Promise?”
“Promise. Try not to have too much fun without me, okay?”
“Hey. Be careful. Call me.”
“I will. Bye.”
“Bye.”
You stumble out of the car and I watch you until you ascend up the flight of steps leading to the three bedroom apartment that you share with a man whom I have never met. A man who has placed a diamond rock on your finger which I could never afford.
Once you disappear, I pull out my phone, flip it up and dial the only number that makes sense to me right now.
“Hey, Monica.”
“Hey, D. You good?”
“No. Not really. You tryna fuck me?”
“Weird timing, but hell yeah. Where you at?”
“I’m twenty minutes from you, downtown.”
“Well let me go shower then. I’ll leave the door unlocked.”
“Alright, sexy. I’ll see you soon.”
“Alright, daddy.”
Inside The Mind of a Black Artist 