The Games We Play

by Alexandra Warren

  Memories of the faces she made when she came, the faces she had surely made for herself this morning, had me shifting to adjust myself in my seat as I warned, “Londyn, chill.”

  But of course she didn’t back down, leaning into the table to whisper, “I thought about you.” My eyebrow piquing as she continued, “This morning. You got me there. So thank you.”

  “You’re welcome?” I replied as more of a question since I wasn’t sure how to take the information. I mean, on one hand I was flattered, glad that the memories were still as fresh for her as they were for me. But on the other hand, I was annoyed with myself for, once again, letting her dominate the direction of our conversation, especially in a place like this where there wasn’t much I could do about it.

  I was grateful when she at least took the conversation to something more work appropriate, sitting back in her seat to ask, “Why didn’t you tell me your assignment was here? We could’ve carpooled or somethin’.”

  “Last time I was in a car with you, it didn’t go so well,” I replied, taking a bite of my sandwich to fight against another flood of pleasant memories.

  But the second she licked her lips, I knew I had gotten myself caught right back in her web, watching as she leaned back in to ask, “It didn’t? Cause if I remember correctly, you had my whole…”

  “Aight, aight. You made your point.”

  She smiled that wicked smile, clearly pleased with herself when she asked, “So… when are we gonna pick up where we left off?”

  With my attention on my sandwich, it was much easier to answer, “Never. It was a one-time thing. A mistake. Something I don’t think your little boyfriend would appreciate.”

  While the reminder of him only had me bothered all over again, it was the best card I had, at the top of the list of reasons keeping me from going back for more. But unfortunately for me, the mention of him only made Londyn chuckle as she repeated, “My little boyfriend? You’re really going there again?”

  “I am. That shit ain’t cool LoLo, and you know it,” I told her, for whatever reason sticking up for him in his absence, though it was really more like I was using him as a shield.

  A shield that didn’t deter Londyn at all when she agreed, “You’re right. It wouldn’t be cool if he was actually my boyfriend, but he’s not. He’s just my friend. My best friend.”

  The whole boy and girl being best friends thing had always thrown me for a loop, finding it hard to believe that the two could be so close without one of them catching feelings. But then I remembered her little jab from brunch, giving me all the ammunition I needed to fire back, “Your best friend that was conveniently before me, right?”

  Instead of being fazed by the reminder, she smirked. “I only said that to see you get, well, like this. It’s funny to me.”

  “It’s funny to you?” I asked with a scowl, watching her nod with satisfaction before I threatened, “Man, I’m not about to play these games with you, Londyn.”

  “You’re the only one playing, Chance. Acting like you don’t want me when we both know you do. Calling what we did a mistake when you know good and well you haven’t stopped thinking about it; thinking about me. Trying to come up with every weak ass excuse you can not to go there again just because you hate yourself for liking it so much; hate yourself for wanting more. But you know what? If that’s how you wanna do this, fine. My options don’t stop at you.”

  She was spot on in every way, something that only frustrated me even more since I hadn’t expected her to pick up on all of that so easily. But it was clear I wasn’t fuckin’ with any amateur no matter how much our few years in age difference might’ve said otherwise, especially when she called herself ending the conversation by standing up to leave.

  “So it’s like that?” I asked the second she moved to take a step away, my words thankfully enough to stop her in her tracks.

  But when she turned back my way, her face was more neutral than the smirk I was hoping for. Though it made sense once she replied, “You’re making it that way, Chance. I mean, the opportunity is right here in front of you and you’re just… blowing it.”

  Was I blowing it?

  I wasn’t quite sure. But something about the way she said it had me reconsidering what I thought was a solid decision; at least enough for me to ask, “Just what kind of opportunity are you offering?”

  Instead of answering my question, she dug in her purse and pulled out a card, setting it on the table as she replied, “I have to get back to work. But if you’re really interested in the answer to that question, hit me up.” Then she walked away, leaving me to watch her every step just like she had with the others.

  Her options.

  &

  I wanted to hit her up.

  I wanted to hit her up so damn bad, but my pride wouldn’t let me; too busy battling with the fact that Londyn had once again managed to one up me by putting the ball in my court and forcing me to figure out what to do with it. She was so good at that shit; taking things to the next level any time I thought I was on steady ground, any time I thought I had control. And while I knew completely avoiding her for the next month and a half wasn’t really an option, it seemed like the only thing that would keep me safe.

  Well, either that or taking her heads-on which meant taking her up on the “opportunity” I still didn’t fully understand. I mean, it wasn’t like a whole ass relationship based on one fuck was even on the table. Then again, it really didn’t seem like that was what Londyn was after. She seemed to be more interested in just… resuming what we’d already kind of started; sexing each other crazy in secret because our bodies told us to without bothering with all the extra frilly shit.

  That, I could probably get with.

  But instead of making that decision while she still had me horny beyond belief from our brief interaction at work, I decided to sit on it, making my way to my mother’s house which was something I knew would take my mind off of everything Londyn. At least that’s what I thought until I saw her mother sitting on the porch with mine the second I pulled up.

  I knew Londyn and Miss.Annie were close, so I could only imagine how much she already knew about what had happened that night. But I certainly wasn’t giving her any more than I had to, attempting to keep the conversation about her when I approached and said, “Dang, Miss. Annie. Can I get your autograph? You’re all famous now.”

  Though I hadn’t seen it live at the party, I totally understood why the video of her twerkin’ had gone viral; Miss. Annie putting on an impressive show, her age be damned. I mean, it was no secret where Londyn got her… everything from, even when she brushed me off to say, “Oh boy, stop it. I was just telling your mother I wish there was some money tied to all these shares and retweets. I’d be filthy rich if that were the case.”

  “Maybe somebody will put you in their music video,” I teased, pulling her into a quick hug when she stood up, then bending down to give my mother a quick hello and kiss on the cheek.

  I hadn’t meant to bust up their little girls’ party, but I felt relieved when Miss. Annie said, “Well let me get on out of here. I know y’all have work to do. At least, I hope y’all do so I can actually step foot in this dump without a mask and a hard hat on one day.”

  Instead of being offended, my mother only laughed. “Annie, don’t you start now. Chance and I are going to have this place whipped into shape in no time at all.”

  Since my mother hadn’t made any official plans for the house, bought any tools, nor invested in any real supplies, I didn’t understand why she sounded so sure about getting her fixer-upper in true livable condition during the little time I’d be in town. And it seemed as if Miss. Annie felt the same way I did when she leaned in to whisper in my ear, “Hours and invoice, Chance. Don’t forget it.” Making me laugh as she bid us both a goodbye.

  I thought seeing her pull off meant I was in the clear as far as her daughter was concerned. But I quickly learned my mother had plans of her own when, the second I sat down in t
he chair Miss. Annie had been occupying, she said, “Annie was just telling me you gave her daughter a ride home from the party the other night. That was certainly nice of you.”

  “It was nothin’. Just being the fine gentleman you taught me to be,” I replied with a smirk, hoping my compliment was enough to distract her.

  It wasn’t, her lips pursed as she side-eyed me and groaned, “Mmhm. Is there something I need to know about?”

  “What you mean?” I asked, playing as dumb as the doorknobs she had yet to buy for the three bedrooms and two bathrooms.

  “I mean, Little LoLo ain’t so little anymore,” she replied with a smirk of her own, letting me know exactly where her head was at.

  But, just like with Miss. Annie, I refused to give her any more than I had to when I said, “Nah, she’s not. But I still don’t know what that has to do with anything.”

  “I’m just saying. She’s a beautiful girl. Just like her mama.”

  There was no denying any parts of that since Londyn had always been gorgeous. But once I saw the twinkle in my mother’s eye as if she thought she was on to something, I knew I had no choice but to nip things in the bud before she got too deep.

  “If this is going where I think it’s going, you can stop while you’re ahead. Ain’t nobody checkin’ for Miss. Annie’s daughter,” I told her, which was the truth… before I came to town.

  Now she was the only thing on my mind, the feel of her still ingrained on my fingertips just waiting until I could touch her again.

  And I would touch her again.

  With us running in the same circle and now working at the same place, it was only a matter of time before I’d find myself right back swept up in her aura. But for now, my little act had at least been convincing enough for my mother to move right on and ask, “So you wouldn’t mind if I hooked you up with someone then? I mean, I know you’re only here for a little while, but I think it’d be nice for you to have someone to keep you company up in that fancy schmancy hotel suite. Maybe someone you can take back with you.”

  I shouldn’t have been surprised that my mother called herself playing matchmaker, making me chuckle when I replied, “Mama, you gotta chill. I’m here for work and for you. That’s it.”

  “Well I already invited her over to help us so…” she muttered, averting her eyes until I shouted her name. And even then, her face was scrunched as if I was the one out of line when she continued, “What? I’m not getting any younger and neither are you believe it or not. It’s time to start working on a little family of your own.

  “Who did you invite over, ma?” I asked as plainly as I could, trying not to be too upset with her since I knew her intentions were good.

  At least that’s what I thought until she answered, “It’s just that Michelle girl you went to homecoming and prom with. She’s my teller at the bank now, and when I told her you were back in town, she said she just had to come see you so…”

  Of all the people she could’ve invited, Michelle was literally the last person on the list of those I would’ve expected her to. Not that anything was wrong with her looks-wise; that was the main thing that had my shallow, horny ass fuckin’ with her back then. But there was definitely a reason why I’d left her in the past; her attitude was horrible.

  I was almost positive she still acted the same way now that she had back then, the thought alone giving me a headache when I groaned, “I can’t believe you, mama. Why didn’t you at least ask me first?”

  Of course she was quick to defend, “I didn’t think it was a big deal! I mean, you already dated the girl once. A little rekindling never hurt anybody.”

  “I’m not trying to rekindle shit,” I snapped, wishing I would’ve caught myself the second I saw my mother’s eyes tighten in response.

  “Boy, you better watch your mouth.”

  I held up my hands to apologize. “My bad. I’m sorry. But seriously, ma. Michelle and I are… we’re just… different. Meaning I’m good where I’m at and she’s, probably good in her little bubble too. No need to intersect, or revive, or whatever you wanna call it.”

  Instead of agreeing, she patted a hand against my knee when she replied, “Well we’ll just have to see if you still feel the same way when she gets here.” Then she stood up, walking into her death trap of a house and leaving me to figure out the rest.

  This was some bullshit.

  I thought about leaving, letting my mother deal with Michelle and whatever work she planned on starting on the house today. But since I could only imagine how badly she would overreact to me hanging her out to dry, I remained on the porch, pulling out my phone to waste some time before I’d be facing whatever my mother had gotten me into.

  Unfortunately, pulling out my phone only got me right back into the other trouble I was still trying to sort out, a follower request sitting on my private Instagram leading me down the dark path of Londyn’s very-much public world. From regular selfies to obvious thirst traps, every picture seemed better than the one before it. And while it shouldn’t have even mattered who was in the comments pumping her head up, I couldn’t help noticing the way her “best friend” always showed up with everything from heart-eyed emojis to water drops to… tongues?

  What the fuck?

  Before I could get pissed - then deal with the fact that I felt a way at all - the honk of a car horn stole my attention, my eyes watching intently as she turned the car off and climbed out with a bigger smile on her face than I’d seen all four years of high school.

  “Chance Washington. I can’t believe it’s really you. It’s been so long,” she gushed as she made her way up the porch, dressed ready for work in a pair of raggedy jeans, tennis shoes, and a flannel shirt.

  She looked… good.

  “I see mama wasn’t playin’ about putting you to work. You lookin’ straight outta Flip or Flop and shit,” I teased, pulling her into a hug and taking notice of the way her body had improved over the years.

  Not quite like Londyn’s, but… shit, stop comparing.

  While I was still in my head, my mother made her way out of the house, a little too excited to see us embracing when she squealed, “Oh good! You two are playing nice.”

  Michelle stepped away, keeping her hand against my back to reply, “Of course, Miss. Ellen. No matter the distance, it’s always been love between Chance and I.”

  “Or was never love at all…” I thought, only offering a smile instead of correcting her. But if a few hours of manual labor and dealing with an old ex was what it took to see my mother beaming with happiness, I was willing to make the sacrifice. Especially if it kept me from thinking about Londyn, even if I knew it was only a matter of time before I caved.

  Londyn

  He hadn’t called.

  He hadn’t called, he hadn’t texted, he had approved my follower request on Instagram and followed me back, but that was the most action Chance had given me since I left things up to him. In fact, it almost seemed as if he was purposely going out of his way to avoid me, not even showing up to the cafeteria at work outside of the one time I saw him there.

  It didn’t make sense. And while I wanted to be bothered by his lack of interest, I knew I couldn’t sweat it. If he wanted to spend his time back home with blue balls, that was his choice.

  Lucky for me, I had someone to keep me company regardless, even if that meant dragging him to the nail salon on a Saturday afternoon for pedicures. It wasn’t the first time I had invited Khalid along, but it was the first time he had agreed to come. And even though he still wasn’t convinced he would enjoy the experience, I was just happy to have someone to gossip with instead of spending the time entire reading the captions of whatever Lifetime movie was on the television.

  “Should I do white? I feel like I always do white,” I asked as I scanned the rows upon rows of polishes, the different variations of red all beginning to blend together.

  Of course Khalid didn’t care either way, already bored with the wait when he answered, “Not a singl
e color over here will make your dogs look any better, so you might as well just cover your eyes and throw a dart.”

  “You’re such a hater,” I groaned, throwing an elbow his way before grabbing the white polish just as the bell over the door rang to signal another customer. But it wasn’t just any customer, more like a familiar face I gladly hadn’t seen in years; her arrogant smirk alone enough to make my skin crawl as she gave one of the nail techs air kisses before marching my direction.

  With every one of her confident strides, I felt myself growing smaller and smaller the same way I used to back in school. But then I remembered this wasn’t the halls of Windsor High, we were very much on a level playing field, and the only reason she was still trying her hardest to stunt on me was because she was jealous I had taken her spot as captain on the cheerleading squad when I was a freshman and she was a senior.

  Petty high school shit like we weren’t grown as hell now.

  Just the thought had me rolling my eyes, though I still braced myself for whatever she planned to throw my way. And I was hardly surprised when she went with the one thing she knew annoyed the shit out of me. “Well if it isn’t little Eric. Glad to see you finally grew into that head of yours.”

  “And it looks like you’ve just about grown out of yours,” was the comeback I had in my head, but it would’ve been a lie since Michelle looked... great.

  How annoying.

  Instead of stooping to her level with insults, I matched her smirk with one of my own. “Hello to you too, Michelle. I would say it’s good to see you, but you and I both know that’d be a lie.”

  It wasn’t that I completely hated Michelle. I guess I just hated what she always tried to emulate. The mean girl, the wanna-be bougie, the… what the hell did Chance ever see in her?

  He had always been so chill, so laid back, even while being the big man on campus. And she had always been so… extra. The Queen Bee type who apparently still kept a crowd of yes-girls around her since her weave was looking a little suspect.