Things Hoped For

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Things Hoped For Page 8

by Chencia C. Higgins


  He was making a mad amount of sense, but still—

  "That's not enough, Zay. That's pennies."

  "Pennies?!" He took off down the sidewalk, only to spin on his heel and come right back to me. "Now you really wildin'!"

  "Nah, you're just not being logical. Stop thinking small-minded. One million is two houses and Lonnie's salary for a year and half—two years if I pay him less." I heard a loud snort and craned my neck to see Lonnie staring at us with a crazy look on his face. "It's hypothetical, man. You know damn well that I'm not touching your money unless I'm increasing it." When he gave a single chin dip, I turned back to my brother who had started laughing. "Okay, so with that one mil I have a house, and Mama and Daddy have house, but now what? I'm back broke. I'm house poor. That's pennies. I want wealth, something I can leave to my kids."

  A sly grin took over his face and I sighed deeply. I swear Xavier could jump from subject to subject without check for incoming traffic. "Oh, kids, huh?"

  Trying and failing not to burst out laughing at his inflection, I started back down the sidewalk in the direction of the studio. "Here you go."

  Jogging to catch up with me, he nudged me in the shoulder. "Nah, here you go. One date with a baddie and you're out here talking about kids? Wait 'til Mama and Daddy hear this."

  Ten

  Xeno

  When You Get Flewed Out

  Me: Come see me.

  T-baby: wya? The studio?

  Me: Sacramento, but we leave for Phoenix tomorrow.

  T-baby: …

  T-baby: Phoenix…

  Me: Yeah.

  T-baby: Arizona??

  Me: Lol. Yeah.

  T-baby: You're serious?

  Me: I am.

  T-baby: …

  T-baby: …

  T-baby: Okay.

  I was pleasantly surprised by her assent and immediately slid over to my favorite airline's app and bought her a round trip ticket. It had been more than a month since our skate date, three weeks since our second date of glow-in-the-dark miniature golf, and I had been gone for two weeks on a mini tour, performing shows that had been scheduled before the Plus interview had taken place. What was initially one night, one show in three different cities turned into two nights in each city after the venues were overwhelmed with people calling about tickets after each scheduled date sold out. Xavier's phone had been ringing off the hook with requests to extend my trip, and of course I was game.

  Xavier had been entirely correct after my last show at The Revelry. That show, while my largest at the time, had only been the beginning. Attendance at each show since was steadily growing, to the point where we'd had to change venues for the second show in Phoenix because the first one wasn't large enough. It was wild and amazing and fantastic, and I was loving every minute, but I also missed Trisha. Our constant texting and phone calls and occasional video chatting wasn't enough. I wanted to see her in person. I wanted to wrap my arms around her. I wanted to kiss her.

  And maybe I also wanted some of the normalcy that she represented. Even though we'd met at my show and she obviously knew of me before we met, I never got the vibe that she cared about the image or perceived celebrity. I said perceived celebrity because that's exactly what it was. Before Plus, I didn't think anybody outside of Texas knew who I was. I was underground, known in the Houston scene but not really making waves too far outside of that.

  It was a blessing and a point of frustration. I could pop into Ben's Grocery for a fresh made salad or sandwich or walk into Black Coffee for an iced Chai and cranberry muffin and no one bothered me. My city was so fucking chill that I would just receive a head nod or some dap and could keep it moving. Truth be told, I was so lowkey that if I was a man, I probably wouldn't even need Lonnie, but since there were too many men out there lying in wait to harass a female rapper that didn't want shit to do with them, he was a necessity.

  Outside of that, which I was learning came with the territory, the frustrating part of being underground was trying to get my music on certain stations outside of the city without coming out of pocket. I'd be damned if I paid for play in the age of technology, so I worked on my craft and built my shit myself. Keeping my head down to build could—and did—get lonely though, which made Trisha's presence in my life all the more important.

  I needed her, and I believed she needed me too, though she'd never said anything like that. There was just something in the way she reacted when I spoke to her, how she bit her lip even though she always wore makeup and knew better than to mess up her lipstick. It was how she would look away sometimes when I would say something she thought was sweet. How she would stare at me every so often when we video chatted, not saying a word, but also saying so fucking much with her open expression. So after two weeks I'd had enough of the distance and extended the invitation. It was more like a summons, but that was semantics. The bottom line was that she was coming.

  She hadn't given me any excuses—valid or otherwise—about why she couldn't come. She didn't tell me she had to think about it. She just said yes. That meant a lot to me. I would have understood if she couldn't come; it was last minute and she had a whole ass career and life to attend to. But she said yes.

  I couldn't even explain the level of excitement that I felt as I watched her walk out of the airport and toward where I stood, leaning against the rental I'd obtained specifically for this purpose. I wanted to be able to drive her to dinner without waiting for someone to pick us up. Even fresh off of a plane Trisha looked amazing. Dressed in an orange, oversized, long-sleeved shirt, army green leggings, and Huaraches that matched her top, with her thick hair in two French braids, she looked casual and fashionable, and I was proud that she was here for me. When she reached me, she stopped with just a few feet in between us and I knew how goofy my smile was because it was reflected in her aviator sunglasses.

  "Hey," she breathed through lips that were painted with a soft, nude hue and stretched wide, her cheeks puffing up.

  "Hey, beautiful. Why're you so far away from me?"

  As if my words were a tether, she closed the space between us, leaning into me and wrapping her arms around my neck. My own arms gravitated to her waist in a way that felt reactionary, our lips finding each other like magnets, and I sighed into her mouth as the feeling of coming home swept over me. A wolf whistle pulled us apart and I grinned as she dropped her forehead to my shoulder before reaching up to wipe her lipstick from my lips.

  "I really need to invest in makeup that doesn't transfer," she murmured with her eyes on my mouth.

  "I missed you." There was no need to hold onto the words. I couldn't have even if I deigned to try.

  Seemingly startled, her eyes flew up to meet mine, causing me to lift an eyebrow.

  "That's not surprising, is it? Not considering where you are right now…"

  She shook her head and gave me another quick kiss before stepping back, grabbing my hand and linking our fingers. "It's not, I just didn't expect you to admit it. Not so quickly, anyhow."

  At that, I laughed. "That's funny."

  Popping the trunk with the key fob, I helped her remove her backpack and put it inside before ushering her into the car so that we could head to the hotel.

  "Did you have any trouble trying to get away?" I asked her as soon as I'd entered the expressway and could concentrate on something other than getting out of the airport.

  "Not at all," she replied. "As soon as I told Jade where I was going she volunteered to take over my appointments. All I had to do was a send a few confirmation emails to explain that I had to take a last minute trip out of town and I was good to go."

  "That's what's up." Glancing over at her I said, "I'm glad you could make it."

  She smiled that smile she had where it looked like she didn't want to smile but she couldn't help it. Her lips were pursed but her cheeks bloomed and eyes crinkled. She shook her head softly, as if answering some question that only she could hear, before turning to me.

  "Me too. Thank
you for sending for me, even though you didn't have to. I could have bought my own ticket."

  I sucked my teeth. "Nah, I needed to buy it, to make sure that you would really come."

  An offended noise sounded from the back of her throat. "What?! Why are you tryna play me like I would have said I'm coming and turned around to ghost you."

  Shrugging, I chuckled. "I don't know man. You be sometimin'. I gotta catch you on the days when you decide you like me."

  "Xeno!" she shouted, a half laugh catching on the end of my name.

  "What's up?" I responded, dragging my words a bit because I knew how much she liked my drawl.

  Cutting her eyes at me, she stared for a moment before turning to face the window. "Nothing."

  ♥♥♥♥

  When Motorboating Brings Epiphanies

  We didn't have a lot of time to kick it. After a quick stop at the hotel so that Trisha could freshen up, we went to dinner at a restaurant that had been suggested to me on social media. After dinner we had to head right back to the hotel so that I could prepare for my show that night. I insisted that she stay at the hotel while I headed to the venue for soundcheck, assuring her that she could ride with my brother who would arrive about an hour before the show started.

  Without me even having to tell him, Xavier had her set up backstage, off to the side where he would be. He usually stayed on his feet for my entire set, but he'd brought out a chair for her. Ten minutes before I was due to go on there was a knock on my dressing room door. Thinking it was my brother, I opened the door and was surprised to find Trisha standing on the other side. Immediately, I reached for her, trying to pull her inside with me, but she resisted. Confused, my brows furrowed and I asked her what was up.

  "I know you have to be on stage in a few minutes, so I'm not staying. Xavier told me what a big deal this show was and I just wanted to come tell you to have fun." She grabbed both sides of my face and kissed me sweetly, swiping gently at my lips.

  Astounded, I stared at her wordlessly. When Lonnie appeared behind her and held up his wrist, tapping his watch, I cleared my empty throat to distract from my staring and said, "Thank you."

  Trisha winked, offering me a soft smile before she pulled out of my grasp and walked backward down the hallway until she hit the corner, waving before she disappeared from my sight. If it was her intention to plant herself in the forefront of my mind, she'd succeeded. The show went off without a hitch; the crowd was amazing, full of high energy and so fucking loud as they yelled my lyrics back at me, shocking the shit out of me. Even with the lights low, I could tell that the room was crammed with people, but whenever my mind would start to wonder at that, I would catch a glimpse of Trisha—who never once sat down—in my peripheral and I was reminded of her precept.

  Have fun.

  So I did. And later that night after we had drinks with Xavier, Cyndi, and a few other members of the crew in the bar of the hotel, we climbed into the bed in my room and I curled myself around her. I'd offered to get her a separate room—I didn't want her to think I was flying her out just to fuck—but she had declined and I could admit that I wanted every moment that she spent here to be with me.

  As I wrapped my arms around her, tossed my leg over hers, and buried my face in the valley between her breasts—over her sleep-shirt—a heavy sense of calming rightness descended over me. I felt so good being in her presence, sharing this space, being in this vulnerable position with her. Everything about it felt preordained. This was where I was supposed to be.

  That was when it hit me. I was in love with this girl. I loved her, and I was tempted to tell her, but she had her moments when she was skittish, like if I pushed with just a little extra pressure, then she would run. Since I didn't want that, I kept my revelation to myself.

  I'd purposefully booked her an evening flight home for the day after she arrived so that I could have as much time with her possible. We had breakfast together at a popular Mexican restaurant near the hotel, then decided to go swimming at the hotel pool before walking around the mall and killing the last hour or so before she was due to the airport. I was idly scrolling social media while she was in a dressing room trying on clothes when I realized that I didn't have any pictures of her on my phone. We'd never exchanged any, and I tried to stay off of my phone as much as possible when we were together, so I hadn't taken any of her on my own.

  As soon as she came out of the dressing room, I switched on my camera and turned into her own personal paparazzi.

  Cutting a confused look at me as she perused the racks, she asked, "Why are you recording me?"

  That was an easy question to answer but I didn't think that telling her because I'm in love with you and want to be able to see your face even when we are apart would go over well, so I gave her the other half of my truth.

  "Because you look sexy as fuck right now and I might want to touch myself to the sound of your voice once you're gone."

  Maybe my words didn't surprise her this time—we'd been kicking it long enough for her to know that I often said whatever was on my mind—but she was affected. I could see it in her slightly widened eyes; the way her lips parted and she took an almost imperceptible breath; how her tongue darted out and swiped her plush bottom lip before she sucked it into her mouth and bit down ever so gently; the way she tightly pressed her thighs together.

  Knowing that my attraction to her was tangible turned her on. And that made me want to take her right back to my hotel room so I could finally show her, since actions spoke louder than words. Instead, I switched from video to photo and aimed it at her once more, quickly snapping several pictures in succession, trying to capture her expression before she had a chance to compose herself and it morphed into something else.

  But the something else was just as picture-worthy; a contented grin splayed across her lips as she rolled her eyes in fake annoyance. Then she rounded the rack of clothes to where I stood, pressing her soft body against mine as she wrapped her arms around my neck, and touched her forehead to mine before joining our lips in a sweet kiss that simultaneously twisted my heart and made it sing. My arms had automatically gone to her waist when she approached me but I dropped my hands to her ass, grabbing handfuls of each cheek, not caring that my phone was probably still capturing images, and squeezing, also not at all caring that we were standing in the middle of a clothing store in plain view of anyone who decided to walk in.

  Eventually, she pulled back, dropping her forehead to my shoulder and groaning.

  "Oh my God. I always seem to lose my head when I'm around you."

  I almost replied that we were in the same boat, but that wasn't exactly true. Every action, every word, every moment when I was with her was thought through. It was purposeful. Intentional.

  "Is that a bad thing?"

  Instead of answering my question, she whined, "That's not the point," making me laugh.

  "Maybe, maybe not. Answer me anyway."

  Then she stepped fully out of my embrace, staring at me intently before saying, "I haven't decided yet."

  I clutched at my chest. "Damn."

  Giggling, she reached down to grab my hand, linking our fingers as we exited the store without buying anything.

  "Don't act like that. You know I'm just playing with you."

  Twisting my lips, I pouted. "You sure had a serious look on your face for somebody 'just playing'."

  Stopping mid-stride, she turned to me and cupped my face, then leaned in and pressed a tender—and disappointingly chaste—kiss to my lips.

  "I apologize."

  And just like that, all was forgiven, because in truth, there were more important things for me to pretend to be upset about. Having Trisha here with me, in a completely different city than the one she'd relocated to, giving me her precious time without complaint, and doling out kisses like communion wafers, I didn't think there was anything that could ruin my good mood.

  Hours later, as her plane taxied down the runway, I uploaded the picture I'd taken of
her to my social media, taking care to crop her eyes out of the photo.

  @xenoraps: I might've found a girlfriend. She just don't know it yet.

  Eleven

  Trisha

  When a Real Friend Pulls Your Card

  "LaTrisha! You've been in Houston for two months and you already have," she lowered her voice to whisper, "bitches posting about you online?! I'm so proud of you!"

  Lisa's screeching ran down my line and I burst out laughing. Whenever she cursed, which was incredibly rare, it always cracked me up. Nevertheless, I was glad to hear my friend's voice. My weekend with Xeno was too perfect and I needed Lisa to tell me if I was tripping.

  "Who is bitches, Lee?"

  She sucked her teeth. "Rappers and gossip blogs, of course."

  I paused in the middle of scrubbing palm sized stones. "What are you talking about?"

  "You don't know? J is the one who told me about it. Apparently, he recognized you in the picture that Xeno posted online. That same picture was reposted by a couple of celebrity blogs. Everyone is up in a frenzy about Xeno's girlfriend."

  The air in my lungs seized and I dropped the stone into the basin, drying my hands on the towel I'd placed next to the bowl, and stepped away from the counter.

  "Lee, I really don't know what you're talking about."

 

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