tagInterracial LoveYou've Been Flirting Again Ch. 03

You've Been Flirting Again Ch. 03


I handed Andi her phone back after I completed my latest make-up text to Roy, sliding it across the table, slumped over my cheese fries.

Andi went through her phone. I knew she was checking to see what I said.

"Oh my God, give it back!" I reached for it, but she held it up, and read, "Miss you too, Roy-Roy. Can't wait to see you at the frat party this weekend." Andi looked at me, giving me that "Girl, I feel sorry for you" look.

She sighed and dipped another French fry into her tin of ketchup. She worked at the food court, and right now she was on break, so we always met up and talked for an hour. Right now it was pretty empty, but in an hour, there'd be an influx of students. It was apple pie day, and I swear, the cooks put crack in that shit because it was delish.

My head was resting on my hand, propped up on the table. "Don't sigh. Just please, don't sigh."

Andi frowned. "Well I can't speak, so I have to do something. I can't believe he'd just ignore you for like four days. Now he's all apologetic? Has he ever ignored you this long?"

Come to think of it, no. She made a good point.

I shook my head. "No. No, actually," I sat up completely because this was completely novel. "Oh my God, what if he cheated on me." I didn't even need to phrase it as a question. It seemed like fact.

Andi put the fry she was about to devour back down. "Possibility. I mean, he wouldn't even respond to you on Facebook and you told him that you lost your phone."

Roy was cheating on me. I knew it. He'd found some big booty skank and they were probably off somewhere during those four days having nasty, sweaty, monkey sex.


My life was ass. Most of my homework was due tomorrow. My phone was missing. Chris would never talk to me again, and Roy was off fucking Nicki Minaj in my absence.

I let my head fall to the table. Andi tapped me. "Umm, are you okay?"

Muffled audio and all, I replied, "You got a knife? If you do, can you just shove it through my head?"

Andi scoffed. "Girl, chill out. And get off that dirty ass table, I didn't clean it yet."

I sat up. She reached over and straightened my hair out. "It's gonna be okay. Just stay away from Chris while you're still with Roy. I can't believe you made out with him."

Sadly, I nodded. "He's such a good kisser, too. But I fucked that up, he'll probably never talk to me again."

Andi frowned. "He only knew you for a day!"

"Girl," I breathed, my arms on the table, "We clicked hard. Real hard. And he knew it. I haven't had so much in common with another person since Roy." Almost whining, I added, "He said I was cute."

Andi laughed. "Look, you reported your phone missing, it'll turn up. Even if you didn't, you deactivated it, and you can get another one. If you're sick of Roy, break up with him. If you want Chris, apologize. It's not that hard. You just don't know what you want."

She was totally right. I had a habit of making things harder than they were. Roy was being a dick, all I had to do was cut him loose. But it wasn't that easy when my feelings were still vested in him.

However, if I was really into Chris, and he made me forget about him, even for a few hours, was something there? And if something was there, and it was that easy for me to not care about Roy, maybe he had staying power?

Andi finished up her fries, balling up a napkin and tossing it on her crumb-littered plate. She checked her watch. "I gotta go clock back in. But in the meantime, check the lost and found or something. You need your phone."

I stood up as well, straightening out my full length skirt. She gave me a hug before she turned on her heels. I turned around and began to leave, but then Andi yelled my name.

I turned around. "What is it?"

She came up to me, clutching her phone and reading something on it. Then she said, "It's Chris. I thought you deactivated it."

Apparently, I didn't. My heart skipped a beat. I stammered, "Huh? Uh, what?"

Andi held the phone up and showed me the text. I read aloud, "Hey Roshanda, its Chris. I found your phone buried in the quad last night. If you want it back come to my dorm or URBN between 3 and 4, on my break."

Andi looked at me and chuckled. "Well, that's one problem solved, huh?" She texted him saying I'd be at URBN soon.

It was 3:15. Walking to URBN wouldn't take me long. But I'd still have to get over the initial shock of seeing him after me and Roy made up.

On the way there, I passed some black girl with a really huge ass, a bad weave, and those unforgivable boot/flip-flop hybrids that were in hella demand at every beauty supply back home.

Wonder if Roy smashed that.

I couldn't just assume he cheated just because we had no communication process, but it was fishy. He knows where I live. We have Facebook. He has Andi's number. It wasn't like it was damn near impossible to get a hold of me.

I pushed open the door and looked around. Cut Copy was blasting one of my favorite songs from Zonoscope.

I didn't see Chris inside, but I saw this cute little dress on sale for only $10, so I bought that and then went back to the task at hand.

While I was on the way out, I saw someone out of the window, past the uber-stylish mannequins, sort of loitering around the store, looking effortlessly cool in his black Vans and gray jeans.

I already knew it was him. Quickly, I left out. He was smoking a cigarette, black Ray Bans perched coolly on his face. Again, I was enamored by that tattoo on his arm. I never got a chance to ask about it.

He saw me and waved me over lazily. I came to him.


Chris blew out smoke. "Hey."

Silence. Really awkward silence. He nodded up to a guy who waved at him from across the street.

He dug into his pocket and handed me my Samsung. "There ya go."

I grabbed it and squeezed. "Thank you."

Again, more silence. I couldn't take this anymore.

"Chris, I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that, and I shouldn't have lied to you."

He hunched his shoulders. "Shit happens," he continued smoking and added, "I shouldn't have liked you so quickly, anyway."

No! Like me! Love me!

"No, if you liked me, you obviously had a reason to."

He smirked. "Just like if you lied to me about not having a boyfriend, you had a reason to."


I looked down. We both had on Vans, except mine were cherry red.

"Look, I don't want us to not talk. We have way too much in common for us to not be friends."

Chris finally put that damn cancer stick down, smushing it with the toe of his sneaker. "You're right. You're absolutely right. We shouldn't have moved so fast."

"Right. So um, we moved too fast and we should have just been friends first. Therefore, we should just stay friends."

Back in high school, my heart twitched a little whenever a guy I had a crush on said that he just wanted to be friends. I'd been in the friend zone with every crush until Roy. It was shitty. Like, why can't the quirky black chick be the hot and sexy lover too? Why does she always have to be relegated to 'oh that's just my friend?'

And here I was, in it with Chris, because of my own stupid ass.

Chris nodded in agreement. "Exactly. I don't wanna stop hanging out with you at all." He extended a hand. "Friends?"

No. I wanted him. I wanted him as more than a friend. I wanted to be his super awesome super smexy girlfriend he couldn't get enough of. I wanted us to have sex for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I wanted him to strum me like a guitar and make music out of my moans.

But instead, I grabbed his hand and shook. His handshake was firm. "Friends." I smiled and, so did he. We had small-chatted for a few. Because music was our bond, he said my homework was to go home and listen to Animal Collective's Merriweather Post Pavilion. I'd never heard of them. In return, he had to listen to James Blake.

After I finished talking to Roy—he didn't even ask how I got my phone back—I got right on my pseudo homework when I was supposed to be doing the real stuff.

Animal Collective was some weird shit. By the time I'd finished "Summertime Clothes," however, I was hooked. And surprisingly, Panda Bear, one of the members, was freaking adorable! Usually, only ugly people were capable of making good music.

Don't believe me? Google Thom Yorke.

My real homework was due the next day, and I was seriously spacing. I found their band on Facebook while I was listening to my illegally downloaded CD, and was ridiculously sprung. Chris was sexy in every picture. The few pictures he had with other girls, won't lie, made me a bit jealous, but it was my fault we couldn't progress.

When the CD finished—pure excellence, every single track—I finished my homework, although it took me until three in the morning. I was lying in bed, unable to sleep, wishing those idiots arguing in the stairwell would shut the fuck up and realize that neither Justin Bieber nor Joe Jonas was hot.

The noise quelled, but my sleeplessness hadn't. Chris wouldn't escape my mind. He was smoking today, and I literally could not erase that image of him taking a drag and blowing smoke like a pro.

He was so badass yet not. It was the sexiest contradiction.

So while I was laying in bed, I wanted to pretend Chris was there with me. I caressed my thighs, imagining his strong, manly hands all over me. I stuck my hands under my old Joy Division tee, picturing Chris's warm body planting kisses on my neck, while he fondled my tits and pinched my nipples.

He'd nibble my ear tell me how sexy I was, that my brown skin was beautiful, and that my round ass was turning him on. Then he'd leave one hand to grab my tit, and the other to slide between my legs and get me off.

Chris would whisper how wet I was as he used his index finger to play with my pussy. I tickled my clit, then the hood, and went down to the hole, shoving two fingers in and out, my moans on the brink of uncontrollable while I played with myself. I was licking my lips, teasing my nipples, and fucking myself good, pretending Chris was.

Soon as he got me off, he'd pick me up and throw me on his dick so I could ride him, watching his face as we did it.

But of course, I can't simulate that because of obvious reasons.

When I was done cumming, I sighed. Nothing worse than imagining you had the real thing even though you didn't. I could pretend Chris was my boyfriend all I wanted, pretend he was finger-fucking me and loving me. But he wasn't.

Two days later, I was sitting in the frozen yogurt place by myself, reading a book, and enjoying my peach bubble tea I finally decided to try. I wanted to hide from the world, so I put on my diva-like floppy black hat that made me feel like a celebrity.

Of course, some people just know who you are. When I looked up, I saw Chris walk in. He waved. I waved too, but my smile lowered a bit when I peeped the whole scene.

He had a girl with him. She was blonde, wore lots of makeup, had a bunch of piercings, and she was holding his hand. She looked all scene, like that's the type of girl he was supposed to be with.

Duh. Did I really think I had a chance?

I sipped some more of my bubble tea and dove right back into my book. It was boring, but I didn't want to look up.

That's when Chris came over, empty-handed, wearing a red hoodie and a gray hat. He sat down. "Hey, what's going on, Roshanda?"

I sighed. "Nothing much. Just reading for class. You?"

I already had the answer: "Nothing just walking around with this girl I'm about to fuck."

"Oh, I just got back from class, so I thought I'd hang with my friend, Cherry."

Her name was Cherry. How perfect. Chris and Cherry. It was a scene romance come true.

"Nice." I couldn't think of anything else to say, but Cherry came over, looking really cute in her lacy black dress. "Chris, I gotta go, my friend said she needs help with something in her dorm."

Chris's eyebrows furrowed. "Right now? I thought we were gonna hang."

Cherry stretched her bottom lip out. "I'm sorry, babe. I gotta go, though. I'll text you later." She bent down and kissed his cheek. "See ya." She took off fast. Man, that was quick.

Chris watched her walk away. He was totally into her. "Well, my day's shot."

I came up with, "I'm sorry, Chris. You'll hang with her again, don't worry."

All he said was "Meh."

As if the day couldn't have gotten any weirder, Roy walks in, which was a total surprise because he always said how much he hated frozen yogurt, that it was "bitch food," apparently.

Well, I couldn't exactly ignore him, because he'd think I came here just to see Chris. I waved him over. "Roy!"

He looked up, seeming shocked as hell, but he came over. God, I missed the days of his fitted jeans. His were all baggy, and he was wearing some God-awful Wiz Khalifa tee. Eeeew!!!!

"Hey, boo." He kissed me and scooted me over, not even asking me to. "Whatchu wearing to the party, you know?"

Roy was ignoring Chris. I looked at him, then leaned my head over so he'd notice the other guy who was sitting there.

"That's my friend, Chris." Roy looked at him, and after sizing him up, said, "What up, brah?"

Chris nodded up as well, realizing he would not get a handshake from him. "Nice shirt, I love Wiz Khalifa."

Totally ignoring Chris, Roy went right back to that damn costume party for the frat. They held one every year. Me and Roy were going as a famous couple, but we didn't know which one to be.

"I was thinking Marilyn Monroe or Nancy Spungeon." I put my book down and slurped the rest of my bubble tea, still hating that Chris was being ignored.

"Who the fuck is Nancy Spungeon?"

Chris answered, "Sid Vicious' girlfriend." Roy looked at him, seeming surprised that he would even speak, and then turned back to me. "I thought we were gonna be Jay-Z and Beyonce."

"Roy, you know how many people are gonna be Jay-Z and Beyonce?"

"So what? We're gonna be the best one, though."

"You don't wanna stand out? Be original? Not look like everyone else?"

"Who the fuck cares about that shit? Nobody pays attention to you unless you look like everyone else. Damn, Shanda, you always have to throw that original bullshit in my face, just go along with it."

Chris obviously felt bad, because he put in, "You should be glad that she doesn't wanna be like everyone else. You shot her down so quickly, you should at least hear her out."

Roy looked at him again, then back at me. "Shanda, who the fuck is this white boy, anyway?"

The one I woulda left your ass for if I didn't fuck it all up, I wanted to say.

"Chris is my friend, and you better respect him if you wanna talk to me."

Roy sat back and finally shut the hell up. Because he was being silent, me and Chris talked for a few about the music we exchanged. While I was talking, Roy got a text. I noticed that as soon as he got it, he looked around, and then he got up. "Bye, boo. I gotta meet the guys real quick."

I frowned. "Whoa, whoa, you just got here!"

He didn't say anything. He just left.

Chris looked at me. I looked at him.

"Your boyfriend's a fucking douchebag."

I sighed and looked down. "I know."

"So what are you gonna do about it? You don't deserve that."

I didn't. I deserved Chris.

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