Furthest From Perfect

Prologue

Me:

tbh when I look at you, I don’t want to fuck you. . .

Nibbling on my bottom lip, my finger hovered over the message as I debated on whether I should send it or not.

Releasing a slow breath, I decided to go for it.

Literally, the worst thing that could happen was not getting a response.

I swallowed my nerves as I tucked my phone between my legs to keep it hidden underneath the table.

My parents took their ‘no cellphones at the dinner table’ rule very seriously, but as the baby, I was known for breaking the rules.

I looked up just as my mother, Lily, came out of the kitchen with a pan of lasagna that she placed directly in the middle of the table.

She pranced back out of the room before coming back with everything else she needed to set the table.

When she was satisfied, she took her seat at one end of the table, while my father sat on the other end.

My cousin Marni sat on my right, while my other cousin Mercy and my older brother, Kel, sat across from us.

This was how we ate dinner in the Morgan household every night.

I felt my phone vibrate between my legs, so I quickly pulled it out to sneak a peek. My heart thumped in anticipation as I wondered if he’d already responded.

@yousohansome

ok and…

when I look at you my dick don’t get hard shawty

My mouth fell open in shock at his brutally honest response, but I guess I kind of asked for it.

That was the only reason I gave him a pass and focused on the point of even messaging him in the first place.

He probably thought I didn’t have any manners, and I prayed like hell he didn’t block me before I could reply.

Since everyone was busy piling their plates with food, I quickly typed a response.

Me:

I might’ve come on a little too strong just now. my bad. . .

I’ve seen you perform around campus a few times. You’re talented but you need a look. I can help you with that!

Now, that sounded much better than my initial approach.

Hopefully, it was enough to get his attention.

Placing my phone back in its hiding spot, I looked up to see Marni had already placed salad, pasta, and garlic bread on my plate.

“Thanks, Ni.” She winked at me, knowing I was busy on my phone but she never had the desire to rat me out to my overbearing parents.

My cousins and I were tightknit like that.

Kel was a boy and never under the same restrictions as me so he didn’t relate to my struggle.

As my family began to talk amongst themselves, I found myself distracted by my vibrating phone once again.

@yousohansome:

wtf is a look? what you trying to say shawty? A nigga not fly enough for you?

It was hard work trying to hold in my laugh, but I managed to do so by nibbling on my bottom lip.

Me:

you said it not me!

just give me a chance. I promise when I’m done with you girls will be chasing you around campus and showing up to every performance

A kick to my shin made me hiss before I glanced up to find all eyes on me. Apparently, one of my parents had asked me something, but I was completely oblivious.

“Koi Adora, you know the rules. No phones at the dinner table. Hand it here,” my mama said with a prominent frown on her usually angelic features.

At the ripe age of fifty-years-old, my mama was still as beautiful as ever with glowing mocha skin and bouncy, silver-streaked curls, but she didn’t fuck around.

I liked to call her The Warden when she was sucking all the fun out of life.

I sucked my teeth, wanting nothing more than to argue back, but it was pointless.

It never worked in my favor and would likely have her keep my phone for the rest of the night instead of returning it after dinner.

I couldn’t have that, so I swallowed everything I wanted to say and just handed it to her.

From across the table, I saw Merci give me a thumbs up because we all knew, if there was one thing I was good at, it was getting into an argument with my parents.

I stuck out my tongue at her because, at nineteen-years-old, I was finally learning how to be mature when necessary.

For the rest of dinner, I tried my best to remain engaged, but it was hard.

I desperately wanted to know Han’some Valentine’s response to my proposition.

I could remember the first time I saw him at a campus talent show.

His words warmed every blood vessel in my body.

He knew how to pull someone in with his silky voice and make you sit down to listen to what he had to say, but when I looked at him, the wardrobe never matched what he was singing about.

I already had a Pinterest board dedicated to potential looks for him because I knew I could make him appear more desirable to women.

If he wanted to sell records, he had to convince us that we wanted to fuck him.

Right now, his look was giving ‘I would never let you near my pussy’ when it needed to be giving ‘I can’t wait to fuck him when he gets off stage.

’ Off looks alone, he certainly had potential.

He just needed me to sprinkle some of my Koi magic fairy dust on him.

After dinner, my brother and cousins began cleaning off the table while I sought out my mother for my phone. She’d retired to their bedroom, prepared to take a bath, but my presence in her doorway caused her to pause her process of removing her jewelry.

“What was so important that it couldn’t wait until after dinner?”

The last thing I could do was tell her the truth, so I came up with a lie instead. “We had our first major quiz in my intro to statistics class. I was anxious to see how well I did.”

Honestly, I’d probably failed that dreadful quiz because I had no interest in statistics, but again, that was not something I could tell this lady without causing a whirlwind of lecturing, scolding, and constant monitoring of my personal life.

My answer satisfied her enough to make her smile. “Oh, okay. How did you do?”

I scratched my temple because I could say a random grade, but I knew how she operated. She’d want proof, and I was not about to shoot myself in the foot. “I’m not sure yet. Professor Addison hasn’t uploaded our grades.”

I watched her walk over to her dresser to pick up my phone. “Hm, well, when she does, let me know your grade.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I agreed, even though I had no intention of doing that. The only math I was good at was measurements for clothes and shoes. Other than that, you were better off asking someone else. I walked deeper into their room to grab my phone from her.

“Baby, hurry up! The water’s getting cold!” I heard my father call out from the bathroom.

I gagged because I could live my entire life without hearing those kinds of things spill from his lips.

I was too embarrassed to look my mom in the eyes, so after I had my phone, I practically ran out of their room and straight to mine.

With the door shut behind me, I flopped belly first onto my plush bed.

Because the air was thumping, I wrapped up in my cheetah print throw blanket.

Reaching for my red, heart pillow, I cuddled it to rest my chin on, then went straight to Instagram.

The biggest smile spread across my face when I saw an unread message at the top with his handle.

@yousohansome:

aight, you get one chance shawty

I squealed excitedly, kicking my feet back and forth.

Going into Pinterest, I went to the board I’d created for him and began sending them to his inbox.

This was my first opportunity to showcase my fashion expertise, and I wouldn’t take it for granted.

I was determined to be a household name in the fashion industry, and this singer with no sex appeal was my gateway ticket to recognition.

His voice was so melodic, I knew he would be a success in the future.

It was better to hop on the bandwagon now and ride it all the way into the sunset.