I walk up to one of my tables on autopilot, pen and notebook in hand. “Hi, my name is Burn. What can I get …?” My voice dies on my lips at the sight of Dreads. Again.
With my stomach in knots, my eyes dart around to look for his crew. I see none of them. Does this mean he’s alone? Can’t be. He’s super-glued to them, I’m sure.
My mind races. Has he come back to waste me in broad daylight? Wants to do the job himself so there are no comebacks?
Although I’m freaking out, I try to keep calm. Slowly, I start to back away. “What?” he asks. “What?”
“Sir, because of you and your crew, I got my ass kicked, I almost lost my job and I got arrested. So, if you don’t mind, sir, I’ll send you another waitress so there’s no drama, okay?”
He slouches back and eyes me, his arm dangling over his chair. “I want you to serve me.”
Wants to torture me before he kills me? How cruel can he be – making me serve my murderer minutes before he whacks me? Even the Sopranos weren’t that cruel, man.
I put away my notepad and hold up my palms. Why did I open my big mouth and tell the cops what I saw? I should have asked to enter The Witness Protection Program first.
“Relax. I’m here to apologise. For the … the drama with Tyra.”
Yeah right. Like I would believe that. “No need, sir,” I say to my murderer. “Thank you, though, but there’s no need.” I look at Cecelia and frantically motion her towards me.
“Sit down,” he says as if he owns the joint.
“Thanks, but I will get fired.” We both turn and look at Madonna Lok at the same time. She quickly turns away.
“Okay,” he says in a low, kinda husky voice – reminding me of Denzel Washington. “After work, then?”
“No, no, no, no! Your girl – Tyra whatever …”
“Forget about her – I just wanna talk to …”
Cecilia’s arrival interrupts us.
“Cecilia, this nice gentleman needs service. Please take over.” I back away before he can say anything more.
“Sure!” Cecilia says and smiles at him. “What can I get you?”
I hurry away.
He finishes his coffee and leaves.
Cecilia runs up to me. “He left this for you,” she says waving a hundred dollar bill at me.
“Omigod! You serious?”
He wants to bribe me with a hundred? Wow! I can’t believe …hang on, I’m gonna need at least one hundred and ten to retract my statement.
“Yeah. I couldn’t believe it. How cool is he? And he’s hot too!”
“Wow!” I lovingly caress my hundred dollar bill. I can buy some decent grub for Angel now. “We split it?” I say.
“Nah, dude gave me a fifty. Told me that that money was for you. Made it clear, so I ain’t messing with that dude. You keep it.”
I peer at her. “Whaddya mean?”
She puts her hand over her mouth and drops her voice. “He’s Trojan Catrell – you don’t mess with him.”
“Yeah?”
“Oh yeah.” She drops her voice and leans towards me. “Want a hot iPhone, a laptop, a fucking car, someone’s kneecaps broken …mm?”
“That badass, huh?”
“Mm. His brother is Grover Catrell, the music producer. Know him? They’re really connected. You don’t wanna mess with them.”
“Really, huh?” And he just gave me a hundred dollar tip. He didn’t kill me and he gave me the biggest tip I have ever had, without me doing a thing. Confusing. In a daze, I kiss the bill and pocket it.
When I finish work, I rush out for my bus only to find Trojan outside, smoking. Crap! What now? Again, I look around for his peeps, but he appears to be alone. My stomach starts to knot.
“I spent the money,” I say, masking my fear with flippancy. “No refunds.”
He smiles and puts out his cigarette. It’s the first time I’ve seen him smile and when he does, he doesn’t look that scary. Maybe it’s because he’s lost his grill. I check him out. He looks different today. No chains, all tattoos covered with a long sleeve shirt, formal pants. Dreads in a neat ponytail. In fact, had it not been for the ponytail, I wouldn’t have recognized him.
Looks like he’s been working behind a desk. Or at a bank or something. But not robbing it. Not dressed like that anyway.
“What do you want, Dreads?”
“My name is Trojan, Burn, and I want to talk.”
“Nice to meet you, Trojan. ’Bout what?”
He folds his arms across his chest and looks directly at me. “Why you say I’m too hood?”
“Huh?” I didn’t expect that question. I expected him to talk to me about the gun incident.
“I …I …” My eyes sweep over him. He’s tall, around six-three, ’bout two hundred pounds of well, some would say, muscle. I would say that too, now that I’ve got a better look.
“Had a good look?” he asks, a flicker of amusement in his brown eyes.
“Wha …?” A hot blush creeps through me.
“You said that you’re not into me ’cause I’m too hood, the day you and Tyra fought? You don’t know me, so why …?”
“Gosh, I said so many things … I guess … I guess I just wanted to get rid of Overdone Barbie.”
He laughs and drops his arms. “What did you call her?”
I chuckle. “Overdone Barbie. Cos she’s like sooooo … ver … done.”
“Don’t let her hear that,” he warns. He jerks his head towards the parking lot. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
“Gee thanks. That’ll be in two years’ time.”
A confused look flits across his face. “You don’t …?”
“I don’t have a car, Trojan. I’m catching the bus and I’m gonna miss my bus unless I get going.”
“I’ll give you a lift home.”
‘No! Don’t you get it? Your girlfriend’s probably watching right now and …”
“She’s not my girlfriend. Never was.”
“Oh yeah, yeah, right, yeah. Sure.”
“No seriously. I’ve never hooked up with her.”
“Then you need to tell her that.”
He shrugs.
“Look, I know why you’re here, okay? Because of the gun thing. Like, I can’t retract my statement. I’m already in trouble with the cops over the assault. I was busted for …”
“Ah, so you’re badass.”
“No!”
“Yes, you are. I’ve never been in trouble with the cops until the night your boyfriend got in my face.”
I don’t answer.
“Heard you’re not seeing him anymore.” His eyes are fixed on my face.
I shake my head from side-to-side and look at the ground. Any talk of Brody makes me somber.
“I see. Look I ain’t worried about the gun incident. I just wanna buy you a drink.”
I peer at him, suspicion running through my tired brain. “Why?”
He shrugs. Do I need a reason?
“I’m seventeen, I don’t drink, and yes, you need a reason.”
He smiles. “Yeah, right – you don’t drink.” That’s not what I heard.
I chuckle. “You know a lot about me, don’t you?”
More shrugging from him.
“I’m …” I exhale loudly. “Look, I don’t quite know how to say this, but I’m sorry, I’m …I’m not into guys like …”
“Like me?”
Shit, this is hard. “Well …” How do I say this without hurting his feelings? I have to be honest with him. I pinch my bottom lip.
“So, if I was blonde, with blue eyes, then you’d be cool with it?” His voice is tinged with hurt.
“No, no, no! I didn’t say that.” I’m horrified to think I could come across like Dawn McGraw. “That’s not what I meant.”
“What did you mean?”
I let out a low groan, not knowing what the fuck I can say without hurting his feelings. I mean, the dude gave me a hundred dollar tip.
“All I ask of you is that you keep an open mind. Think you could do that?”
What exactly does he mean by that?
I’m relieved when my bus arrives. Saves me from having to continue this awkward conversation.
He persists. “Think you could do that?”
I shrug. “Sure.”
“Good girl.” He smiles. “Sure you don’t want a lift?”
With a smile, I back away. “Yes, sure. Thanks for the tip.” I turn and run towards the bus, confused as to why he wants to buy me a drink. I mean he waited till 11 PM to talk to me?
“Hey!”
I stop and turn around to look at him.
He hitches up his sleeve and touches his tattoos. “They’re real,” he mouths.
My laugh is nervous. I remember saying to Overdone that their tattoos are fake. “I don’t believe you. I think it’s a spray on and I think you have a pink love heart somewhere there.”
His jaw drops. So does his hand.
“Maybe even a cute butterfly. Goodnight!” I wave and hop onto my bus.
I take a seat and watch him through the window. He lights up another cigarette, looks at me and blows smoke my way. Then we grin at each other.
The moment my bus moves, I conference my peeps.
“One hundred?” Tina gasps.
“Huh huh.”
“Maybe it’s counterfeit,” Sultana says.
I take out the money and rub it between my fingers. “Feels real.” It better not be counterfeit.
“He actually waited till after you finished work?” Laura says. “Maybe he really digs you.”
Tina laughs.
Sultana laughs.
I laugh.
“Loser!” Laura says.
“Yeah right, like I’m gonna go for someone like him. I mean, compared to Brody, he’s chalk man.”
“Compared to Brody, everyone’s chalk,” Laura points out.
“How the hell could he possibly think he’s got a chance with me? I mean, with all those tattoos and those chains and the thugs he hangs with – so lame.”
“Yeah,” Sultana says, “he’s kinda gross. Scary too.”
“And that name? Awful.”
“Yeah, sounds like a brand of condoms.”
We poke more fun at him and mock him all the way home.
“In a way, I feel sorry for him,” Tina says.
My ears prick up.
“Yeah, me too,” Laura says. “The fucker hasn’t a chance in hell with you.”
“I don’t feel sorry for him,” Sultana says. “He pulled out a gun for Brody, remember? He should spend the rest of his miserable life in the slammer.”
“Well, he’s gonna spend umpteen years in prison anyway,” Laura says. “I mean when PDiddy pulled out a gun for some guy – that time he ran with JLO, he faced something like a hundred years behind bars. So this fucker – he’s already been arrested because of that. Probably gonna get his day.”
“Yeah, well,” Sultana says, “next time you see him, tell him to piss off.”
“I will,” I say and hang up, conveniently forgetting to tell them that I had promised to keep an open mind.
Everything they say about him may be true, but I remember the night he pulled out the gun – Marcus McGraw started it, calling them ‘boy’ and asking them to piss off from Marlow’s.
I look out of the window in the dark, suddenly feeling bad for him.
The next day when I arrive at the pizzeria, a huge bouquet of flowers with a fluffy white bunny rabbit, is delivered for …me.
I’m stunned. Everyone congregates around me as I eye the envelope. “Open it!” they chorus.
I tear open the envelope to find a photo of an arm full of tattoos. Among the tattoos is a hand-drawn pink love heart and a colorful butterfly.
You were right the card says.
That’s it. Nothing else. I burst out laughing.
“Is it from Trojan?” Cecilia asks. “I saw you talking to him last night. Is it?”
“Eh …no,” I lie. “Someone else.”
“Liar!”
Busted “Okay, look, it’s from him – but listen, can you not tell anyone that it’s from him?”
“Why?”
I shrug. How do I tell her that I am embarrassed to let anyone know that I am having any dealings with him? Not only because of his rep as a thug, but also because I ran him down so much in the past.
Not to mention that he pulled a gun on Brody.
“Okay, so you’re embarrassed,” she says, reading my mind “He’s taken the time to draw a butterfly, draw a love heart, then photograph it, then print it, then drop it off at the florist, then order the flowers, then order the bunny, then have them delivered to you with a message. Means the whole time he was doing all that shit, he was thinking of you. That’s a looooot of thinking for a guy like him to do.”
I never thought about it that way.
“You plan on hooking up with him?”
“No!”
“You sure?”
I nod as I hug the rabbit to me.
“Great! I plan to, then.”
“Wha …?”
“I’m dying to fuck a black guy. It’s so Chloe and Lamar. ’Sides, I heard they got humungous dicks.”
I spin around to look at her, and for the first time I notice her reddish-brown hair, liquid hazel eyes and white skin. A young Kelly Clarkson. Pretty, confident and determined. Who wouldn’t like her?
“It’ll be a whole lot of fun getting that ass in the sack.”
“Mm!” I say and walk away tight-lipped. Fucking slut!
I throw the bunny into my bag. Chloe and Lamar, my ass.
Wonder if he’ll dig her?
Why didn’t he give me his number so I could text him a ‘thank you’ for the flowers and bunny?
Ah, well, I’ll express my thanks when I see him this evening.
Keep an open mind, keep an open mind, keep an open mind, keep an open mind.
When I get off work, it’s 11 PM. I step outside the restaurant and look into his face.
“Hey!” I say. “Where’s the love heart and butterfly?”
He looks at his arm. “Washed it off.” He shrugs.
“Ah, told you they were washable.”
“Not the others.”
I smile. “Thanks for the flowers and the bunny. They are beautiful.”
More shrugging on his part.
“What are you doing here?”
“Came to walk you to your bus. I can take you home, but I suspect you’re gonna say no to my ride.”
“Yeah, sorry, something to do with Stranger-danger and stuff.”
We both laugh.
“Well, then, I will walk you to your bus.”
“Walk me to my bus? It’s like a few feet away from the pizzeria!”
“Doesn’t matter. Just wanna make sure you’re safe.”
Is he serious?
I look at him and smile. When was the last time somebody cared about my safety? After Brody, there has been nobody else.
“That’s nice of you.” Just then my bus arrives. “Well, that’s my bus, so …”
We hurry to it. “Good night, Trojan,” I say.
“Nite, shawty,” he says. “Hope you dream of me.”
I laugh.
He hands me a card. “Holler if you do, okay? You’ve got my number.”
I take the card and hurry into the bus. Through the window, I wave at him before I take a seat.
This time, I don’t conference my peeps. Why? ’Cause I know that they’ll run him down, laugh at his flowers and his bunny and I don’t want them to. Not today, not anymore.
Strange, I know.
Instead, I take his card and study it.
It says, Hey, Burn, if you’d like to take me to dinner, just smile.
Below that is his cell number and email address.
“What the …?” I smile. Me take him to dinner? He’s nuts.
I get a text. You smiled.
“What the …?” I peer at my phone in disbelief. Is this Trojan? If it is, he’s guessing. He has to be.
Look out ur window
I scramble to the window and see him driving alongside me.
I gasp, then texts fly between us.
Ur nuts. Where u get my fone no from
I got people in lo places. U smiled. I demand my dinner
Lol! I a student. McDonalds happy meal complete with toy.
Ill take it. Nite burn smiley face
Nite Trojan smiley face
He speeds away.
All this effort for me? I look at the card in my hand. It looks professional, not a handwritten one. Then there’s the tattoos that he drew, photographed and sent to me. Such a lot of effort. Could I be worth it? I have to see what he sees.
I whip out my phone and open my mirror app. When I see my shiny eyes, my amused smile, my slightly flushed face, I put my hand to my mouth and giggle all the way home.