Chapter 3
Three
God .
I felt so much better after a quick wash-up and change of clothes. The fog of the running water had swelled every strand of my hair but I wasn’t opposed to the fluff at all. I pulled the very top into a loose, large bun and allowed the majority to hang past my shoulders. The lip gloss I swiped on my lips after fixing my brows and coating my lashes with mascara was the perfect touch. To put it lightly, I was feeling the look and it felt really good. Living out of a camper for the last year and some change of my life, I didn’t get to say that too often or feel this too often.
Once I was at my very best, I cleaned the mess I’d made of the bathroom. I repacked my bag and snagged a final look at myself in the mirror before tossing it over my shoulder. My anxiety rested in my neck, causing me to freeze as my hand graced the knob. Silently, I inhaled slowly and then released. Repeatedly, I performed the breathing exercises I’d been taught by YouTubers with the same social anxiety issues as me.
You’ve got this, Brisk . I did. I knew I did. If not for me, then for Melonie. I couldn’t let my girl down. We’d known each other for a good bit now, and she hadn’t failed me yet. Nodding in encouragement, I opened the door and stepped out into the hallway.
WHAM!
I squinted after my face collided with a hard, swollen chest. Immediately, I stepped back to put space between myself and the houseguest that I’d practically assaulted. The anxiety that I’d swallowed came rushing to the forefront, causing me to stumble over whatever words were trying to meet the surface as I tried maintaining my composure.
“I… I’m. I’m so sorry. I should watch where I… I’m go… going,” I fought to get out, halfway expecting to be given a mouthful.
Instead, I was met with silence, causing me to fight the urge to continue on my way and look up instead. I wished I hadn’t. I wished like hell I hadn’t, but it was too late. The easy breaths I’d taken seconds earlier were now jagged, uneven, and unpredictable. In fact, I wondered if I was actually breathing at all. Maybe I wasn’t.
“What’s your name, love?” His tenor resonated with my being, commanding me to speak.
The confidence that exude from the frame before me left me in shambles, but with no other choice but to respond. Thoughts jumbled and confusion piquing, I couldn’t even think of my government. The same name I’d had all of my almost twenty years.
“I… I have to get going,” I stared up at him before dropping my head and picking up my feet, only to be halted by the same chest. Buried, I could smell the musk and cedar notes in his cologne of choice. I wanted to fai…
Do NOT faint, Brisk! I snapped back to reality.
“You don’t have to get going, but if you feel the need to, then do so by any means. Just don’t leave me with that question heavy on my heart,” he insisted, backing away to give me the space that I did not need.
Come back , I wanted to demand, but I wasn’t like him. I wasn’t as broad and as bold. So, instead, I gnawed at the inside of my jaw until I tasted the blandness of my blood.
“Your name?” He reminded me.
“Brisk,” I responded.
“Brisk,” he repeated with a nod, “I’m Bello. If it’s not too late and you’re not too tired when this is all over, I’d like to take you for a drink.”
“I have work early in the morning,” I lied, thinking quickly on my toes.
“Hmmm. Maybe another time, then,” he tilted his head in obvious disappointment and stepped into the bathroom that I had just come from.
Rejection.
It wasn’t something he accepted, or not well at least. His dark features disappeared before I was able to admire them all. I would’ve considered his departure rude hadn’t the conversation not ended with his revelation, but it had. So, I didn’t understand why I felt slighted in the worst way as I stood alone in the dark hallway when I was the one who’d thought of a lie much quicker than the truth. It was out of the normal for me, but it rolled off my tongue so fast that I couldn’t stop it if I wanted to.
Oh God , I cringed. I’d told an unnecessary fib that would hunt me all night, I feared. As much as I wanted to waddle in my despair, I didn’t want to wait around long enough for Bello to exit the bathroom. So, instead, I went to catch up with Melonie. The party had picked up a bit, so I was certain she needed my help more than ever, now.
I made my way through the maze of people after dropping off my bag, grooving to music made far beyond my years, and having the time of their lives. No matter where I turned, Melonie was nowhere to be found. Neither was Mrs. Frank and I wanted more than anything to wish her a happy birthday. Though she didn’t know it, she’d saved my life countless times just by allowing me to borrow her basement for a night or two - three on occasion.
Out on the crowded porch, Melonie was nowhere to be found. I made my round through the house but didn’t see her there, either. I checked the kitchen and the great room, but there was still no sign of her. The bedroom was my next stop, but to my dismay, it was empty as well. I headed back downstairs for the second round of searching and still came up empty-handed. I had no clue where Melonie must’ve gone.
After ten whole minutes of searching, I threw in the towel and decided to head back toward the kitchen to grab a bottle of water, instead. I’d worked up a sweat. The DJ continued playing hit after hit, I assumed, being that the crowd seemed to get louder with each record that he played. The women were grinding on the nearest man - most being their husbands - while the men grooved behind them. It was a sight to see. One I hoped for when I was too old to remember all my children’s names because I was too busy trying to keep up with the names of all the grandchildren they were giving me.
Their excitement was contagious, causing a smile to rest on my face as I opened the fridge to grab a cold bottle of water. There were plenty outside, but I wanted to save those for the guests. With the humidity that the crowd brought, I was certain they’d need each and every one of them. I’d have my share from the Frank’s kitchen. As a habit I’d picked up as a kid, I grabbed the bottle furthest away from the front.
“Third times a charm,” his deep, addictive baritone startled me as I closed the door of the fridge.
Only a few feet away, he sipped on a glass of something . Stopping inches away from me, he grabbed a few napkins to place underneath his perspiring drink. Our eyes met, holding the other’s captive for a brief moment before faltering. I was the first to break the connection, clutching the water bottle at my chest and closing my eyes. My heart galloped uncontrollably in my chest, racing against an imaginary clock and threatening to send me into cardiac distress.
Be still, my beating heart . I warned, opening my eyes. Only to find the culprit of my uneasiness had vanished, again . His disappearance was disheartening, leaving me staring at the space where he stood mere seconds ago. Curiosity piqued, my head turned in every direction in anticipation of seeing his backside as he sauntered into the crowd. But, again, luck was seemingly my enemy. It never showed its face. This time wasn’t any different.
“Brisk! I’ve been looking all over for you!” Melonie startled me with a hand on my shoulder.
“God, you scared me,” I admitted.
“Is everything okay? You look flushed, babe,” concerned etched her pretty little face, causing me to smile.
“Everything is fine, Melonie. What do you need help with right now?”
“Well, it’s about time to sing Happy Birthday to my mom and I have the best gift for her. I just need you to make sure the cake is set up on the table and the guests are all out on the porch in the next ten minutes or so. The plates, ice cream, spoons, and napkins are all right there on the table. Just transfer everything outside. My mom said they can’t eat that cake in her house,” she chuckled at the last statement. It sounded about right, too.
“Okay. I got it. Just get everything out there on the big table outside. Got it.”
That, I could handle. It was better than dealing with guests and it gave me some time to clear my thoughts. Third time’s a charm , I hissed - still slightly bruised by the disappearance of the man who was making my night a bit more interesting than I’d anticipated. His presence didn’t make much sense, either. Especially with everyone at the party being over the age of forty except Melonie and I. Bello - as he called himself - didn’t look a day over twenty-five.
Bello.
His presence was striking. He was stunning. Clad in black from his head to his toes, the color being a true match to his deep, dark hues. The arches of his bones and face structures were scientifically orchestrated and carved by God himself. He’d spared no details when it came to this man who stood a mere six feet to my five-three. On a bad day, I’d give him five-eleven.
The firmness of his chest confirmed the seriousness of his gym regime. Undoubtedly, he was a fan of weight lifting and all the other exercises men deemed worthy to increase muscle mass and decrease fat. I wasn’t complaining and I doubt that any other woman amongst the partygoers - married or single - were either. The way that his physique was portrayed in his dark clothing was appreciated.
I have to work early in the morning. The replaying of my impartial truth made my stomach turn. I did have to work, but it wasn’t in the morning. In actuality, it wasn’t until one o’clock in the evening when I was scheduled to come in and would be off by six. Still, he didn’t have to know that and I wasn’t willing to hand over that information. Especially not to a stranger, who wanted to take me for drinks in the wee hours of the night. I wasn’t even old enough to drink, legally.
And, if it wasn’t the case, I simply wasn’t interested. Drinking wasn’t my thing. I’d refused every cup that was passed my way in high school and every shot that I was encouraged to take. With everything going on in my life, the last thing I wanted to do was become dependent on any type of suppressant because once it was all said and done, they wouldn’t make my circumstances disappear. They’d only make them worse - especially if they became an addiction.