18. Juliet
Juliet
“…and I still ain’t over the fact that he managed to get that Orbi set,” Yahya said for what felt like the millionth time. “Ye couldn’t even get that shit for little North West.”
“I would ask how you know that, but your sources be shady and I don’t want my name mentioned in the cease and desist,” I replied, unable to stop laughing.
“That part,” Mega pointed. “My guy said he was going to come through and get that set for you. That’s tough he was able to make that happen.”
Yahya smacked his shoulder.
“Oh, so you knew and didn’t tell me?”
“It wasn’t my place to tell,” he signed.
“Oh no, don’t go all silent now. You was just loud and proud, talking about my guy this and my guy that,” she fussed.
If I knew Yah like I knew Yah, that one smack to the shoulder wasn’t all she had planned for him.
Mega, however, caught her wrist before she could hit him again. What started as him blocking her turned into his thumb absentmindedly rubbing across the back of her hand.
Interesting.
My eyes narrowed.
Neither one of them noticed.
“Psalm wanted to be a man and court his lady,” Mega said. “Besides, I’ve been kicking it with him for a little minute now and he’s a good dude. If I thought he had any ill intentions, Ju Money know I got her back.”
I stuck out my bottom lip and signed, “Thank you.”
Mega accepted my gratitude with a simple nod of his head.
Yahya sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes.
“Since you pick up on energy so well, why you ain’t pick up on Nazir’s trifling ass?”
“Man, Juliet went out with him behind my back.”
“Okay, Echo Number Two,” I signed.
It seemed like none of the men in my life realized I was a grown-ass woman.
“Had I known what type of time he was on, Psalm wouldn’t have needed to do shit. I would’ve handled him myself.”
“Oh, so you big and bad now, huh?” Yahya laughed. “I don’t know. You might’ve gotten away with beating Nazir’s ass, but from what I heard, the way Psalm mopped the floor with him? You might want to leave Romeo alone about his Juliet. That man ain’t about to play about her.”
She stuck her tongue out and extended her hand for a high five.
“And don’t,” my hand connecting with hers.
“Yeah aight,” Mega laughed. “Both of y’all must’ve forgot who saved the day during that fight.”
Yahya let out the loudest raspberry known to mankind.
“Boy, please. How could we forget? It’s the only war story you tell.”
The three of us burst out laughing.
Truth be told, if Mega lived to be a hundred, he was probably still going to tell people about the time he saved me and Psalm from certain death at Sunday’s. By then, the story would probably involve helicopters, a SWAT team, and him carrying both of us out of the building on his back.
My watch vibrated, and the reminder for Creative Writing lit up the screen.
“Let me get to class and slay this project. Come on, I can drop y’all back off at campus,” I said, hopping off the hood of my Jeep.
Instead of piling in like they normally would, both stood there staring at one another.
Suspicious.
Very suspicious.
Looking at them, I waited for some kind of indication that either one planned to speak.
“It’s cool, Ju Money. I’m gonna go chill with a few guys in the game room,” Mega finally said.
He scratched the back of his head, looking more obvious than a guilty dog standing next to a torn-up couch cushion.
“Yeah,” Yahya added way too quickly. “And I’m gonna walk.”
Now I was the one standing there lifeless.
Walk?
This was the same girl who nagged me for weeks to get a handicapped parking permit so we could get the first parking spot anywhere we went.
“It’s a two-mile walk, Yahya, and it’s eighty-seven degrees outside.”
“Good. I’ll sweat off the burger I just ate.”
Her?
Sweat?
Now I knew they were lying.
Looking between them one more time, I smiled.
“Mm hm. Whatever.”
“What?” Yahya called after me.
Ignoring her, I climbed into my car and buckled up. The second the engine started; she appeared at my window.
“What?” she signed.
Rolling down the glass, I grinned.
“You so nasty. Get that shit though, friend. I’m here for it.” I teased as her jar dropped.
Mega let out the most guiltiest laugh.
Not wanting to make my friends lie any longer, I pulled off before either one of them could defend themselves.
Professor Hamburger’s classroom door had a handwritten note taped on it.
CLASS HELD IN THE THEATER TODAY.
“Of course it is,” I muttered.
Nothing with that man could ever be low-key, quick, or normal. Life to him was a stage, and he took every opportunity to perform.
Turning toward the theater, rightfully named after Juanita Hall, I immediately spotted him posted up against the hallway wall.
Trying to hide my blushing like some high school girl with a crush, I picked up my pace and walked right past him on purpose.
A smile tugged at my lips.
“Yeah aight,” I heard him say behind me.
The attitude in his voice made me laugh.
“Come here, Lucky.”
Turning around was a mistake.
A complete mistake.
Because I just knew he saw the hearts in my eyes and the one beating damn near through my chest.
Psalm stood against the wall wearing ripped baggy jeans, a Tribe Called Quest graphic tee, and what were obviously custom Air Uptempos.
Lord, this man is fine.
By the time I reached him, he gripped my waist and pulled me closer. His hands settled there comfortably, like they belonged, and he stared at me as if I was the most beautiful girl in the world.
Students passed by smiling, and one dude even dapped him up. That was man code for: You bagged a baddie.
Psalm looked down at me and, foolishly, I prepared for a kiss. Instead, he gently released my waist and signed, “Stop playing with me.”
I gasped.
“Of all the phrases you could've learned, why that one?”
His grin widened.
“Because I know there's gonna be plenty of times where you got me fucked up.”
I smacked his arm, hard enough to make a point, but soft enough that he'd know I was flirting. The smile never left my face.
“That is so rude.”
“Oh yeah?” he asked.
His finger tapped the tip of my nose, causing my eyes to flutter.
“I learned another one too.”
“Let me see,” I signed.
A mischievous grin spread across his face before he signed, “Give me a kiss, Lucky.”
Heat rushed to my cheeks.
His hands returned to my waist, settling there with a little more confidence this time. Applying just enough pressure to pull me closer, he closed the remaining space between us until there wasn't any left at all.
Tilting my head, I parted my lips and welcomed his.
Psalm kissed the way he played guitar. Intense, sensual and passionately, like he loved every movement.
For a few seconds the hallway disappeared.
The students, the theater, the assignment, all of it faded into the background until there was nothing left but him and the feeling of his mouth on mine.
A few passersby cheered, and somebody yelled, “That assault charge was worth it, I see!”
The comment almost made me laugh.
Nazir's family had tried to press charges with every intention of suing Psalm. What they didn't know was that Echo’s word carried more weight around Havenbrook than most elected officials.
So just like Nazir's future, that lawsuit wasn't going anywhere.
When we finally pulled apart, a quiet breath escaped me. Shaking my head, I forced myself back into reality before I completely forgot where we were.
“You ready to ace this presentation?” I asked.
“Yup.”
He stole one more kiss, a firm but affectionate peck that lingered just long enough to make me smile again. Then he intertwined his fingers with mine, and together we headed toward the theater.
Hamburger had turned the debate assignment into a full-blown production complete with a live studio audience.
The theater was packed with students, faculty, and what appeared to be some of his theater buddies. Psalm and I won the coin toss, so the opposing team opened first.
When it was their time, they came out swinging.
Their arguments were strong. Especially their position that nepotism undermines fairness and merit-based advancement.
“It gives opportunities to individuals based on personal relationships rather than qualifications and performance,” Lavender said firmly.
A little too firmly.
And did this bitch just roll her eyes at me?
“For example, just because your mother is an Oscar-winning actress does not mean you should get the role of Dorothy in Broadway's The Wiz, over someone who has been in theater training since she was three years old.”
Yeah, that was definitely an eye roll. We were nine, bitch. Let the shit go.
The applause Losing Lavender and her teammate, Brian, received proved they had finished strong and would be a tough act to follow. She gathered her things, but not before giving me one last glaring look that promised she was still carrying around elementary-school trauma.
Then it was our turn.
Psalm adjusted the microphone.
“Good afternoon. Today, Juliet and I will be defending why nepotism should be accepted as a legitimate hiring and promotion practice in the workplace.”
A loud boo immediately sounded from somewhere in the audience.
“You would support that, Mr. Signed-to-HUSH Studios!” someone shouted.
A few people laughed.
Then another voice rang out.
“Aye, Juliet! How's Echo?”
Of course, Tony Ferra.
A professional hater with a part-time enrollment status.
“The same as the academic probation letters that come to your house,” I responded. “Limitless.”
The theater erupted as students laughed and a few professors turned away to hide their smiles. Even Hamburger covered his mouth, secretly chuckling behind his hand.
“Don't address her again,” Psalm said sternly, staring Tony directly in the face.
The room quieted.
“Okay, people,” Professor Hamburger interrupted before a second debate could break out. “Back to the task at hand.”
The presentation continued.
Everything went smoothly.