A short and sweet (or bitter depending on how you look at it) unedited snippet from the yet untitled sequel to No Strings Allowed. Enjoy!
“Okay, but why are you so damn big? I know changing oil ain’t that damn physically taxing.”
He laughed and took a swig of his beer.
“Nah, I played football in high school and college. The workout regime beefed me up and that shit never really goes away.”
My eyes widened in surprise. “College?”
Nodding he said, “Yeah, I played three of my four years when I was at Grambling for my undergrad.”
“What did you study?”
“I got my BS in computer science there, then my MBA from Prairie View.”
What you say?!
“You have an MBA yet you work in a mechanic’s shop?” Incredulity was all in my voice.
He raised his eyebrows. “That’s right.”
“What do your parents think about you wasting your degree like that? Just throwing their money away?” I shook my head and sipped at my own drink.
Leaning back in his seat he regarded he intently. I stared back unblinkingly.
“For some reason you decided to place judgement on me instead of asking me straight up questions. Okay. That’s fine, but let me clarify a few things for you.” He chuckled dryly. “First, aside from sending me care packages on a regular basis, my parents didn’t pay one dime into my college education. They couldn’t afford to. Partial scholarships from football paid for my tuition and books for the three years I played and I took out loans for everything else. Second, neither of my degrees is being wasted. I utilize them both very regularly and they are how I was able to open that mechanic shop debt free.” He looked down at his plate before shaking his head and pushing back his chair.
I sat there stunned and thoroughly shamed as I watched him carry his plate into my kitchen then disappeared into the living room before resurfacing while shrugging on his jacket.
Wait, he’s leaving?
He answered my thought when he spoke. “I’m going to head out. Thanks for dinner, it was delicious.”
“I—“ I was at a loss for words. I wasn’t even sure what was happening right then.
He walked over to me and kissed my forehead. “Hey, it’s all good. I guess you were right, we should have just skipped to dessert that first day.” He tugged on my hand as if he wasn’t breaking my heart.
Pause! Breaking my WHAT?
“Come lock the door behind me.” He pulled me across my tiny apartment. “I’ll talk you later aiight?” Without waiting for a response he gave me another quick kiss, this time on the lips, before dropping my hand and exiting my apartment.
I stood there, dazed, trying to process how quickly things had turned sour when banging on my door caused me to nearly jump out of my skin.
“Lock the door!” Hurriedly I did as I was told before going to grab my glass off the table. I finished my wine in one large gulp.
“Damn, I really fucked up.”