Chapter 7 #3
I laughed and found myself blushing. I quickly dismissed it as words sat on the tip of my tongue.
Words I didn’t want to speak because I didn't want to be one of those. Where Exodus was concerned, I didn’t want to be a lot of things.
But regardless, I felt myself slipping into that territory anyway.
I really didn’t want to mention his girlfriend though.
Like, that would be top tier bird activity, wouldn’t it be?
Mentioning her would show him I liked him and hello…
I didn't want X to know I had even the slightest crush on him. I wasn’t into stroking niggas egos.
Hell, as if a crush from me, a broke girl from The Woods would give thee Exodus Christ an ego boost.
I’d never speak down on myself for real, but from what I heard, his girlfriend was a popular TikToker with thousands of followers. The type of bitch who wore designer to bed, and kept her hair and makeup done. Why would I be able to stroke his ego?
However, despite not wanting to bring her up, I did anyway.
“You should be on the phone with your girlfriend,” I said, regretting it the minute I said it.
I put my palm against my forehead and took the phone from my ear with a grunt. Dummy.
“I don’t have one of those.”
“Mmhmm.”
“I’m sure you heard a lot about me. You ever heard anything about me being a liar?”
I racked my brain, searching it for a good fifteen seconds before realizing I hadn’t.
In fact, Exodus was wildly known for being brutally honest. He didn’t care about what he said, or who he said it to.
He was the type of man who said the first thing that came to mind, which made me circle back to him mentioning my fake Prada bag.
Yeah, he didn’t give a fuck. I sported that bitch everywhere and not one person mentioned it being a replica.
But then again, coming from where I came from, people probably didn’t know.
“No,” I finally said.
“Exactly. What my momma doin’? What you put her on today? Sunday’s best on a Wednesday?”
I laughed and proudly said, “Yep. Sure did. A nice powder blue dress with a white hat with a blue feather on it. She just finished knitting, watching her show. I think she’s dozing off so I’m about to put her to bed.”
“Aight, bet. Call me back after you do.”
I swallowed with pinched brows. “For what?”
“I just told you I was bored. You bored too. Let’s be bored together.”
With that, he hung up and I sat there for a moment, confused. Did Exodus want a friend?
I sat there a moment, processing what was happening.
As usual, I circled back to how different my life was.
And on cue, my heart raced. I swallowed and gripped one of the couch pillows, eyes wide, breathing a little labored.
What the fuck was happening? I looked around the house, as panic started to build inside of me.
Where the hell was I? What was I doing here, bro?
Why in the hell did Exodus fucking Christ have my phone number?
What the hell was I doing making three thousand dollars a week?
All of this after my brother was killed. What kind of quantum leap was this?
I took a deep breath, swallowed again, and loosened my grip on that pillow, smoothing its tassels out.
This was life. This was my life. I didn’t know how often I would have moments like the moment I just had but…
I respected it. I didn’t beat myself up over feeling what I felt because hell… it was valid.
I pushed up from the couch and walked over to First Lady who had dozed off. Reaching over to the cushion next to her, I picked the remote control up to turn the TV off.
“You ready to go to bed, First Lady? Today wore you out, my girl!”
She woke up and took a deep breath. Once she woke up fully, I reached for her hand and she grabbed mine to stand.
On our walk up to her room, I talked to her about the importance of bathing herself.
Not because I was crazy uncomfortable with it, but because I wanted to give her something to think about.
If she did think about something other than Pastor, at least. I told her how it was self pampering and all.
Regardless of if she bathed herself or not, I made a big deal out of it. She had a whole bedtime routine.
When we got upstairs to the bathroom and she undressed, I handed her the loofa.
She didn’t take it. Softly, I smiled and got to talking more about how beneficial cleaning herself could be.
Just casual conversation about the beauty behind it.
After she was showered, I lotioned her up really good and found a cute silk gown for her to wear.
I had her sit at the bathroom vanity where I did a whole skincare routine on her.
I did the same thing for myself. Regardless of my upbringing and the lack of resources, I took damn good care of myself with products I got from Dollar Tree.
However, First Lady had all of the best shit.
La Roche Posay, Tatcha, and shit like that.
All high end products I couldn’t wait to add to my own collection.
Once I finished her skincare, I put her bonnet on, and got her to the bedroom.
I moved at a steady pace but I was excited as hell about getting back on the phone with Exodus.
So excited that I thought about skipping my own nighttime routine, afraid that once I finished he’d probably be sleep.
Because I was a gangsta and didn’t give a fuck about no nigga, I showered and took my time getting myself together.
Whole time, I laughed to myself because a bitches heart raced, hoping like hell I wouldn’t miss him.
Once I was dressed in my little short pajama set, I quickly got on the phone to call him. He picked up on the second ring, almost as if he’d been waiting for my call.
“Damn. Bout time. I thought you forgot about me,” he said, as soon as he answered.
I blushed. Never baby.
Instead of showing my true feelings, I sucked my teeth and said, “Almost. I had to remember to call you.”
“Yeah, okay,” he doubted. “How’d it go? She take the rag?”
Rag.
I had First Lady using a sponge and a loofa. I ordered her an African net off TikTok yesterday. She was too much of a classy lady to be using rags. Rags were for bitches like me.
“Nope. She didn’t. But I got a feeling she will be bathing herself soon.”
“I’m happy as hell God sent me you,” He said after a couple of seconds.
With dipped brows, I said, “God sent me to you? Or did you just—”
“Nah, call it what it is. God sent me you. Regardless of how we came together, that’s what happened. He sent me an angel. For sure.”
He sent him to me too.
He sent us to each other.
I didn’t say that though. I just swallowed, thinking about how right he was. It gave me chills.
“I’m not an angel,” I said through a laugh.
“You’re an angel to me. For me. For us,” he seriously said before switching the subject. “Fuck you eat for dinner? Hot dogs and pork n’ beans?”
I laughed again and sucked my teeth. “You got me fucked up. I don’t know why you think I eat struggle meals just because I like my sausage pancake corn dogs. Speaking of… I will be ordering me some tomorrow so—”
“I promise if I see that shit in the freezer when I get over there, I’m getting rid of it. You really like wasting money. Damn.”
Exodus and I stayed on the phone for hours.
Two hours and fourteen minutes to be exact.
We talked about a lot. From life to goals and childhood dreams. We talked about history, religion, and the mystery of life too.
And he dropped a few gems I couldn’t help but to soak up.
It was so refreshing. I hadn’t talked on the phone like that since the start of Vellz and I.
However, the conversation was so different.
It was mature. It was real. It was filled with not only laughs and heartfelt moments, but undeniable chemistry too.
I really, really, liked Exodus.
And instead of enjoying that feeling, I was terrified.