Your mom was going to kill you. Several hours ago, she had silk pressed your hair with the dreaded hot comb and told you to bring an umbrella in case it rained after school so you wouldn’t get your hair wet. Your dumbass left it on the bus on the way to school. So, here you were, standing underneath the school’s overhang for shelter from the rain that came down in bullets. As you lamented what your future would look like once you got home with soaked hair, you were forcibly pulled from your thoughts when a voice interrupted your train of thought.
“Waitin’ for someone?” a male voice spoke.
You spotted your classmate, Arvin, sporting a blue jean jacket over a white t-shirt with his signature blue hat nestled snugly over his brown hair. Arvin was one of the few people in your school that you tolerated. He was polite to you and had the decency to acknowledge you and talk to you in the hallway or in the classroom unlike the majority of your classmates. You were one of five black students at a school that had just agreed to let black students enroll last year, so you weren’t surprised by the lack of hospitality. Arvin however managed to make you feel welcome, along with his step-sister, Lenora, so it made your high school experience bearable.
“Just waitin’ for the rain to let up.”
“Think you might be waitin’ for a while. S'ppose to rain like cats and dogs till tomorrow.” Arvin frowned as you laughed sardonically.
“Guess I’m spending the night here.” Your shoulders slumped. “My mom would have my hide if I came home with wet hair.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because it took her two hours to do it.”
The fact that it took that long to do your hair surprised Arvin, but he understood. He remembered that his grandma and Lenora would take the longest to get ready whenever they went to church. His grandma taught him that it took time and effort for a woman to make herself look and feel beautiful.
“Sounds like you could use a ride home,” Arvin said with a smirk.
Nate was a cocky little shit. And who could blame him? He stole almost as often as he could breathe, and got away with it more times than he could count. But not this time. No. This time he made the mistake of stealing from you. And you were coming in hot. If he knew how much trouble it’d be stealing your necklace, he would’ve thought twice about it.
“How is she so fast?” Nate pants as you chase him down a narrow street before turning a corner.
He curses under his breath as he looks over his shoulder to see that you were right behind him, staring daggers at him. The second Nate looks ahead he was suddenly on the ground after an object hits him in the back of the head.
“Ow!” Nate clutches his head as he lies on the ground. He looks up to see you hopping over to him with one shoe on. “Did you seriously just throw your shoe at me?”
“Bitch, you stole from me! You’ve got no room to judge.” You approach him and sat on his stomach to keep him pinned to the ground.
“You steal from me again and I promise you that I will step on you like the bottom you are.” You threaten, grabbing a handful of his shirt to yank him forward.
“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” Nate chuckles weakly, holding up your necklace.
“Ugh. Fucking masochist…” You snatch your necklace back from his hand.
You stood up to your feet to slip your other shoe back on before you turn around and walk off, putting your necklace back on.
Had you met under different circumstances, the idea of being underneath a beautiful woman like you who could also take him down didn’t sound so bad to him.
