Chapter 14 #4
I kept going through movies, seeing so many titles in my watchlist already.
“The Silence of the Lambs is kind of a hero movie, but you gotta be in the mood for that,” I commented as I passed it by.
“The Silence of the Lambs is the best Hannibal Lector movie,” Ezekiel said adamantly.
“Nope,” I disagreed. “It’s Manhunter even if he’s not the main guy.”
Ezekiel threw his hands up. “And you’re going with Manhunter before Red Dragon!”
I shrugged. “It’s the only one that feels like a cop movie.”
“Ed Norton.”
“Was good,” I admitted. “That eighties filter nostalgia got me in Manhunter, sue me.”
“I just might.” Ezekiel shook his head. “Anthony Hopkins.”
“He overdid it after Silence.”
Ezekiel ran a hand down his face. “Yo, you buggin’, bro.”
I loved that he’d slip and bro me. It made me feel like a real friend. If that was what I wanted in the end. “Nah, you buggin’, bro.”
“What about 8 Mile?” Ezekiel suggested. “Ever seen that?”
“No. I know this is like a taboo take, but I’ve always felt that Em was a little overrated, even though my favorite hip-hop song of all time is unironically ‘Lose Yourself.’ ”
“Nah, Em definitely cemented his place in hip-hop. He’s earned the hype.”
I clicked on 8 Mile since I hadn’t seen it and went to lay on my stomach as I faced the screen.
In a comfortable silence, we sat there and watched the movie. I made mental notes all throughout instead of typing them on my phone, not wanting to lose a minute. 8 Mile was definitely going to be featured on my next Nasty Noir post.
When the movie finished and Rabbit walked down the rain-slicked Detroit road to head back to work, I paused the ending credits and sat up.
“So…?” Ezekiel wanted to know, watching me curiously. “What did Miss Film Critic think?”
Testing the waters, I laid my head on his thigh and faced the ceiling. “I kinda wish the ending was more definite. It’s hopeful, but at the same time, he’s still in the same position.”
“But with more confidence to really seize his future,” Ezekiel noted.
I fiddled with my fingers. “I guess. It’s a cool movie for hip-hop in Detroit. It feels like most of them are based in New York.”
“Closest we’ve got is Hustle & Flow, but that’s Memphis.”
“I gotta watch that again, but that was a good one from what I remember.”
“Who’s your favorite southern rapper?” Ezekiel asked as he looked down at me. If my laying on his leg bothered him, he didn’t say.
“Rapper from the south?” I pondered. “Ludacris.” I started rapping lines from “What’s Your Fantasy,” to which Ezekiel was quick to jump in and rap alongside me.
“For me, it’s definitely Three Stacks.”
“Don’t get me wrong, I like OutKast, but André’s a little…”
“You say overrated and you cancelled. Did you not listen to The Love Below?”
“Eh,” I let out. “People say they love him to sound all deep and intellectual.”
Ezekiel deadpanned and pushed me off his lap, leaving me landing in a thud on the carpet.
His reaction made me lay there and laugh loudly. So much so I snorted and ended up covering my face in shame.
“Yo, did you just snort?” Ezekiel hovered over me with a big grin on his face.
I nodded as I smothered my laughter. “I do that sometimes.”
Ezekiel shook his head, going and grabbing his Pad Thai.
“The Love Below is really my favorite album of all time. It’s eclectic and smooth.
Every song is fire. You have ‘Prototype,’ ‘Love in War,’ and…
‘Take Off Your Cool.’ ” He wrapped the last song title tenderly in his calm voice as he gazed at me, making me want to know what it was about.
“ ‘Take Off Your Cool’?”
He ate some of his Pad Thai and waited until he’d swallowed instead of talking with food in his mouth. “It reminds me of us now that I think about it. It’s about not frontin’, about being honest and not worrying about ego or pride.”
I fingered the carpet beneath me. Why did I like that he was using ‘us’ now? “Us, huh?”
“I feel like I can be honest with you. I mean, I don’t know for sure, but it seems the same for you. We’re not…‘dating,’ so there’s no fear or overthinking. It’s no pressure to put up an image or front to impress each other, we’re just Ezekiel and Nastasia.”
In a way, he was right. I could say what I wanted to him without worrying if it would taint the possibility of us, and he was up-front about his not wanting a serious relationship.
I grabbed my Pad Thai and dug in a little.
“I’ll have to give that album another listen,” I said.
“Oh, you gotta. Every OutKast album is perfection, but that one is my favorite.”
I lay there, head resting on my palm, staring up at him in wonder. I couldn’t stop myself from slipping up and smiling like a fool.
“What?” He suddenly paused.
“Nothing. I just like watching you talk. You sound so educated on the topic.”
“I’m serious.”
“I know.”
Ezekiel shook his head, completely unaware how attractive he came off. He went back to his food and I was really considering listening to that André 3000 album.
We were talking about nothing at all as we ate our Pad Thai, and it was the best. Everything was a debate, but really, it was just fun to pick his brain.
Scorsese was coming around. He wouldn’t let Ezekiel get too close, but he was near, watching us with his greedy behind.
I didn’t realize we’d fallen asleep until the brutal shrill of a phone ringing woke us up a couple of hours later. We were on the couch, with Ezekiel stretched out and my lying on his chest. Too comfortable to move.
Ezekiel groaned as he found his cell phone on the coffee table and picked it up. He rubbed at his face and yawned. “Hey … I know, I know, I fell asleep and I’m not going to make it in … Ate too good … All right, thanks. We’ll talk tomorrow … ’Bye.”
As much as I wanted to go back to sleep, lying with his arm around me, I sat up and stood to my feet. I checked my phone and it was after two a.m.
“Sorry about that,” I said. “Lost track of time.”
Ezekiel laid back and shrugged. “I got too comfortable. It’s my fault. Pops will probably say something, but I’ve never missed a shift, so we’ll see.”
I hoped his father wouldn’t be too hard on him.
“If you’re too tired to drive, you can crash here. I have this couch you seem to enjoy and a guest bed,” I offered.
Ezekiel arched a brow. “And a master bed, too.”
“Sir.”
“We’re grown, but if you want, I can take the guest room.”
We were grown, and we were both too tired to see through our “go with the flow” hypothesis.
Things with Ezekiel were moving slow in one area, as we hadn’t kissed or really touched each other, but in another, they were moving fast. I didn’t know him that well, but I trusted him, felt comfortable enough to be honest and myself with him.
If we shared my bed, nothing would happen and all would be fine.
“Okay. Go on up to my room and I’ll put the food in the fridge and clean up down here.”
Ezekiel eyed the takeout containers and the TV. “You need help?”
“No, you look so sleepy. I’ll manage.”
Ezekiel saw himself up the stairs, his sluggish movement giving way to how tired he was.
I didn’t think about what I was doing and how reckless it was. There was an Ezekiel-sized hole I was digging and—despite knowing better—seemed all too intent on jumping in.
Deciding I would worry about it in the morning, I went up to my bathroom and tied my hair down before doing a quick version of my nightly routine. In my bedroom I found Ezekiel laid across my bed, holding his finger out as Scorsese sniffed at it on the floor.
“You could’ve got in,” I said as I entered the room and left the door ajar in case Scor had to eat or do his business.
Ezekiel moved and got off the bed. “Was waiting for you.”
Ever the gentleman.
After flipping on the TV for light, I turned the lights off and climbed into my queen-sized bed.
The sound of material sliding down let me know Ezekiel was taking off his pants.
I was too tired to be tempted. Too tired to turn around and sneak a peek as he slipped in beside me under my comforter.
Too tired to go back and take my subconscious’s advice and run for safety.