#twenty minutes yeah he was gone within the first ten seconds but i wanted to keep going ....

[dirt-str1der]

Sick of jerking off to porn now i just look up pictures of kiryu in his little grey tracksuit whenever i need to cum

[metamorphosisff]

|Chapter 9| Kinda, Sorta...Maybe

My fingers toy with the braided orange and white yarn bracelet around my wrist as I wait for Papi’s summer camp orientation to be over. The young counselors in the front are going through what the program will look like for the next eight weeks and behavioral expectations. However no one is truly paying attention. Tired parents, wrangle with groups of children, and their own boredom while clusters of kids throughout the cramped auditorium talk excitedly amongst themselves. I sat in the back fighting against sleep myself after my graveyard shift since Mari couldn’t make the ten a.m. meeting. As they finally begin to enter the last week of camp on the powerpoint my pointer finger traces over the one bead that was in the middle of the bracelet that was marked with the letter X.

Xavier had slipped it into my hand last Saturday while we waited for the Uber to take me back across the bridge. Apparently his sister and her friends have quite the side hustle in selling the custom friendship bracelets. For ten dollars he got her to make us some. At first I told him I’d never wear mine but then I saw him with it on at community service yesterday. It was right behind the Apple Watch he always wore with my initial facing outward. Jazz had clocked it before I had, which earned me another earful about letting him in. 

When he Facetimed me last night the first thing he saw was it on my wrist. The simple joy that spread throughout his eyes from me participating in the peak of his corniness made it worth it. Xavier never asked for me to give more of me than I was willing even when I could tell he wanted to. This was the least I could do to show him that his energy was not for nothing. That even though I swore to be a kind of decent friend, I knew he was a true one to me. In a short amount of time he managed to be a great one. So now a part of me wanted to be that in return. My train of thought was interrupted by Papi thrusting a folder into my lap. I raised a brow in question.

“It’s the program’s calendar and a few slips for you to sign for our trips,” Papi explained.

“Got it. When are these due?” I asked.

“I have to bring them with me on the first day next week,” he replied. 

Nodding my head, I stuffed the folder, and stood to my feet. I had a few hours before I had to be up for community service. “C’mon let’s go home.”

“Actually, I was kind of hoping to hang out with Jayce and Tim,” he said, nodding over to two boys who were waiting for him not too far away. We lucked out by finding a program other boys from his school had heard about as well.

“Jayce is the one with the older sister right?” I asked.

“Yeah, Jessica,” he replied.

“Then fine, you can go,” I replied, knowing that Jayce’s sister routinely checked in on her brother and his friends. “But you better beat me home later.”

“I got you, later Auntie,” he said, giving me a quick hug before running off with his friends.

“Later.”

While he ran off to get sweaty, I made the twenty minute trek back to our building.In no time I had stripped down, tossed myself into a shower, scarfed down the bagel I bought on the way home, and was crashing into my sheets when my phone began to vibrate. I groaned at the sight of Lonso’s name next to a text notification. Clicking it, I quickly scanned the message.

Ma’s having a birthday party. You coming?

Ms. Lena had a birthday party every year and I had gone all of one time to know I’d never go to another. It hurt too much to see what was so blatantly missing from my life. There was so much love on his side of the family that he never went a day without it. Meanwhile, savoring their joy felt too much like stealing to me. Instead of responding directly, I sent him the screenshot of the calendar reminder I had which read ‘Call Ms. Lena’.

Within seconds he replied. 

That better be a Facetime with your no-show ass. 

Go recite the anthem or whatever they pay you to do instead of playing on my phone. 

Ain’t nobody playing. That’s your problem right there. Just come home.

See? He never got it. Never got me. Virginia was not my home because they left me behind when they were crafting it. Their house was a reminder that I was tolerated at best and I didn’t need the pity. Shaking my head, I typed out what would be my last response: I am home. 

I rolled my eyes and tossed my phone to the side so that I could finally go to sleep. That was enough Lonso for one day.

It’s been eons since I have stepped into a lecture hall but I do so this afternoon as Xavier has invited me to watch him teach. As I sit in the back, I notice as a few people regard me with curious stares wondering why I’m there. I’m looking around the room wondering the same thing when my eyes lock with the professor’s. He sends me a silly smile and beckons me forward but I shake my head. I don’t want to sit any closer because knowing Xavier he’ll try to get me to participate. I’ve agreed to listen, nothing more, sensing my stance he grins but nods his head in acquiesce. Baby steps. We’re taking baby steps at getting me to be a more social being in general. I pull out one of Papi’s old notebooks that still has a few blank pages in the back and a pen. On the screen is a slide that reads: PSY518 Macro Human Behavior. Underneath that is the subtitle: Chapter 2 - The Social Psychology of Group Behavior. I write down both along with my name and the date as if I’m actually a part of the class. 

After a few more minutes, when the hall is filled with about eighty or so students, Xavier calls the class to attention. He stands in the center of the floor, right before where the teacher’s desk is, and his belongings sit atop.Today he wears jeans and a powder blue short sleeve button down with a sweater that the blasting air conditioning makes necessary. I eye the students, armed with notebooks, tablets, and computers ready for the words that are to spill from his lips. Their hunger for knowledge makes me lean forward and swing my eyes back to the man in the middle of the room. He had their respect and undivided attention, I could give him that too.

Clapping his hands together, Xavier starts, pacing as his voice fills the room. “Over the last two weeks we have been breaking down chapter two, the social psychology of group behavior. Tonight we will wrap up this discussion by examining ourselves, our awareness of self, and how that can affect our worldview, and professional practice. To kick us off, can somebody please refresh us on what Albert Bandura’s social learning theory is.”

Multiple hands shoot up into the air. Xavier chooses a girl dressed in overalls splattered in paint and a ruffled crop top. Her bright pink hair makes it easy to find her when she says, “Social learning theory basically stresses the importance of observing, modeling, and imitating the behaviors, attitudes, and emotional reactions of others.”

“That’s it precisely and quickly can somebody connect why that theory applies when we look inward to ourselves,” Xavier said, scanning the hall once again before calling on a lanky kid whose limbs were spilling out of the seat. “Dante go ahead.”

“Because we are what we have been raised or not raised to be. Humans are very monkey see, monkey do. If we see our parents work hard, we work hard. If we see them doing drugs, we are likely to follow suit, so on and so forth,” Dante replies.

That response makes me sit up because it strikes close to home. I never wanted to do drugs because of my parents but something in me lately had been drawn to setting my life on fire. Now, here I was shifting through the ashes, wondering when I had become a pyromaniac. Had the instinct lied dormant within me or did I learn how to pick up matches from watching them?

“Correct. To expound on Dante’s example, if we see our parents work hard, then we may think, why can’t other people do the same? You might think your client is being lazy or not trying their best. That can cause you to miss a potential area of assessment. Maybe your client has ADHD or SPD. If you hold onto these biases, and we all have them, then you will not be serving your client to the best of your ability,” Xavier continues.

“Professor Taylor, are all biases harmful?” someone else calls out. I miss the face because I’m too busy jotting down notes to revisit later.

“I would say yes but to varying degrees. Like stereotypes, biases are a form of personal truths, of what we believe to be true based on experience. We fall short when we don’t take into account that not everyone has the same shared experience,” Xavier replies. 

“What if all of your experiences are harmful but you don’t want to replicate the behaviors you witnessed in your home or community?” another student asks.

I can feel all of the thoughts zinging around the room as this class gets into its analyzing state. These kids are keeping Xavier on his toes and he loves it. His eyes light up when he gets this question.

“Great point, the answer is you have a lot of work to do on yourself. It is hard to break free of the behaviors we witness in our formative years. They are embedded in us in ways we don’t know are possible until certain situations arise. It is hard but it is not impossible,” he says, his eyes landing on me the exact moment he finishes his statement.

It’s an echo of our conversation from the day of the food truck festival. A subtle reminder to me that change is possible. I’m on the fence but for the next ninety minutes I open my mind to the possibility. I watch students role play different situations where awareness of self would be crucial in helping their future clients. I watch as Xavier gently guides and corrects where some groups fall short. I fill the remaining blank pages in Papi’s old notebook with phrases, words, and theories I plan to look up when I get home. As he dismisses his students, I look over what I’ve written with some understanding of my childhood, and the decisions I have made in adulthood because of it. I’m lost in thought when Xavier approaches me, bag slung over his shoulder.

“Those notes mean you enjoyed the lecture?” he asks.

“I did. Feed me and I’ll tell you my thoughts,” I say, putting away my stuff in my bag.

He chuckles as he steps aside as I get up from my seat. “C’mon there’s a bomb pizza spot not too far from here.”

We walk side by side under ominous gray clouds that are threatening to spill at any moment. This impending storm was not on the weather forecast this morning so I’ll most definitely be getting caught in it since I’m umbrella-less. For now though, I push the thought to the back of my mind as we make it to the pizzeria that was only four blocks away from the side of campus we had been on. There are a few tables in the back available between the crowd of students and families. I snag one while he gets our slices, a penne and regular one for me, and two pepperoni’s for him. We eat for all of five seconds before he decides to start probing me about his class.

“Aight, I’ve fed you, spill it. What did you think?” he asks, taking a bite out of his pepperoni slice.

I grin at the nervousness in his demeanor before saying,“That you both enjoy and know what you’re talking about. I was able to follow along like I’ve been in the class the whole semester.”

Nodding his head, he said, “That’s exactly what I strive for. Texts are hard enough to break down on their own without me being more confusing on top of that.”

“I wish I had more teachers that followed that philosophy. Why don’t you teach full time?” I ask next.

“I love teaching but I also like feeling like I’ve made an impact. Helping Hands allows me to serve people in a real way. The need to help is in my blood. Most of the men in my family serve by enlisting but that wasn’t my path,’” he answers.

“Mine either. My brother enlisted too. He wanted to be the complete opposite of our father and thought I should want that as well,” I said.

“We can only walk our paths. Not the ones other’s want for us,” he said, speaking from experience as well.

“Correct. I’m glad you listened to your gut because this is so clearly your calling,” I said. 

“Thanks,” he smiled before asking, “It took me a minute to find it but I literally can’t see myself doing anything else.”

“Why do you think it took you so long?” As someone who was also taking  a long time to find their purpose I couldn’t help but wonder how long it might take me. 

“About five years. I spent a lot of my teen years and early twenties angry, at first because me and my father could not see eye to eye. Then because of Sabrina. Anger…distracted me. That’s why when I figured it out, I hit the ground running trying to make up for lost time. One of the reasons why my ex is my ex, she thought I needed a new career when I had just found this one,” he said, with a shake of his head.

“Not to be disrespectful but it sounds like she did not know you. Anyone with eyes can see how much you love what you do,” I said.

“Not anyone, just those who matter,” he said softly, taking a glance at me while taking a sip of his soda. 

I feel my cheeks heat up and quickly drop my gaze to what’s left of my penne slice. He snickers but allows me to retreat in peace. We fall into a comfortable silence as I finish off most of my food. When I’m done, I wipe my hands on a napkin as I observe him typing out an email. His glasses are still on and the muscular body underneath the button down reminds me of an actor I can’t place at the moment. 

“The professor's look suits you,” I said, popping the collar of his short sleeved button down, drawing his attention. 

“Aye man quit,” he chuckles, but does nothing to stop me. Instead, he looks over at me as he chews the latest bite from his pizza. “Tell me about your day.”

Like that we fall back into an easy conversation as I fill him in on Papi’s first day of camp which was yesterday, the jobs I’ve been applying to, and the episodes of Captain America I’ve finally watched since he’s given me the login information for his Disney Plus account. By the time we leave the pizzeria to head towards the train station the sky has opened with a steady rain but we walk as if the sun is still out. Anytime our in person time is coming to an end both of us subconsciously fall into sync to make it last as long as possible. Our shoulders brush as he listens to me complain about having to be up in seven hours for work.

“That just means you’ll have to go to bed as soon as you get in,” he says.

“If I go to sleep, I’ll miss more of your students' awful grammar and syntax,” I chuckle. Lately he had taken to reading me some of their papers aloud as he graded. They were interesting bedtime stories that sometimes affected my dreams.

“There will be no shortage of that trust me. They will still be bad tomorrow night,” he says, looking over at the train station entrance not too far away before looking at me. There were a thousand emotions swirling in those brown eyes. All of them were easily translated but still I couldn't help but to question for clarity.

“Why do you look at me like that?” I ask, as he peers down at me through long lashes that are clumped together due to the rain.

“Like what?” He says stepping closer to me in the way he does when he thinks he will somehow miss my words.

“Like…like I’m the only one you see…like I’m everything,” I said, speaking as the answer came to me bit by bit.

His attention for me is all encompassing and wraps around me like a cloak. We both find comfort in it and it’s why he is looking at the train station with such disdain. He does not want to part from me and if I’m being honest, I’m not ready to part with him either. 

“Because you are,” he says.

Words are trapped in my throat as if I swallowed honey. He uses my lapse to lean in closer to say, “And you look at me the same way.”

“I…what?” I sputter out which causes him to chuckle.

“You heard me Mila. You see into me like I see into you which is what has made being your friend so amazing. This connection between us…it can be more,” he said, giving voice to my most inner thoughts.  

The thoughts I tried to bury and deny. The thoughts Jazz said were inevitable for me to have. He has them too. 

“More,” I repeat softly as his brown eyes hold onto mine. Not giving me the opportunity to escape this time. He’s holding me accountable at this moment. 

While it’s true I want Xavier to be my friend, I also want more because somewhere along the line I caught feelings. It’s sudden and unexpected but being around him makes me less afraid. Makes me want to take a risk which I do by grabbing his face and kissing him. His hands instantly reach for my waist, pulling me flush against him. Being in his embrace is the most sense of belonging I have ever known. It’s instantly right as his eagerness takes over the kiss. I don’t mind letting him lead, considering it a reward after taking a leap of faith. What feels like all too soon, he’s easing out of our kiss with small pecks as his breath fans against my face.

“I just wanted to pause and say technically you kissed me first,” he murmurs against my lips.

“I did,” I said, pressing my lips against his once more. “You kissed me back.”

“I did,” he repeats, kissing me again, this time firmer as he pulls me closer. I tilt my head, giving him more access to sweep his tongue against mine and for the cool drops of rain to slide down my throat. We both taste like the Coca Cola we washed down the slices with. I find myself gripping onto his shoulders to keep his body pressed against mine. The rain is picking up but I can’t pay attention to anything but the way my heart is beating against my chest and the way Xavier feels clutched against it. This feels like a movie but whenever our eyes catch between kisses I’m reminded of how real this is, how I don’t ever want this to not be our reality, and how scared I am of what this means for our future. He eases from our kisses with a few nibbles and pecks before resting his forehead against mine. “I’d like to keep kissing you from this day forward. Cool?”

“Cool.”

“We don’t have to rush anything. We move at the same pace,” he says, nuzzling his nose against mine. It's as if he feels  my anxiety rising and knows just what to say to keep it at a simmer instead of boiling over.

“Okay,” I said, nodding my head and because I think he deserves to hear it too, I add, “I want more too but you’re my friend first. I need you to be.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he says, sealing our agreement with another searing kiss that is a stark comparison to the monsoon we’re under. 

It’s a simple acknowledgement of our shifting dynamic. One that helps to ease my racing thoughts for the time being as he links his fingers through mine and leads the way down into the station.

Today was finally the day where we said goodbye to the snazzy orange vest crew for good. The most embarrassing period of my life has finally come to a close. What better way to celebrate than getting drinks at T.G.I. Fridays and eating sizzling fajitas like Jazz and I were currently doing. So far we had been talking about pop culture with Jazz catching me up on the shows I never had the chance to watch anymore. When my phone flashed with a text from Xavier, she caught the smirk on my face as I read over the message inquiring when I’d be available to Facetime.

“Something changed between you and Mr.Clipboard. I saw the way he grabbed your hip before we took off,” Jazz said, pointing a long marble painted acrylic nail in my direction. 

It honestly trips me out sometimes how much Jazz notices in the said and unsaid. She reads between the lines like no other so I don’t bother being vague anymore. Not when I needed someone to talk about this with being that Mari was perpetually busy. 

“We kinda’, sorta’, maybe…might have kissed the other night,” I said, causing her to start clapping. 

“I knew it, I knew it, I knew it. That boy looks at you like you are the second coming,” Jazz says, with a nod.

“He does,” I admitted, causing her to smirk because it wasn’t that long ago that I was denying that was the case.

“What made you see it for yourself?” Jazz asked.

“I don’t know if it was any one thing you know?” I replied, biting into a fry. 

“Yeah I do. It’s the culmination of all that he is and all that he has the possibility to be. It is in the thoughtfulness of every gesture and the sizzle of chemistry in every embrace, it’s-

“Not that. Not yet at least,” I said, cutting her off before she can say the four letter word that is dying to spill from her lips.

“No not yet,” Jazz agrees, taking another bite of her food as  well. “But soon enough. That scares you, don’t it?”

“More than I think I have the words for,” I admit with a chuckle.

I have never been in love, not for real, so while I’m not an expert on what it is, I’m sure as hell knowledgeable in what it isn’t. Xavier has presented none of those red flags but then again he doesn’t pretend to be someone he’s not. He owns up to where he falls short and strives to make the most out of his life encounter by encounter. He is admirable and approachable where I am jaded and enclosed. How do we meet in the middle without changing one another?

“He’s so sweet, and real, and I’m so afraid that I am going to fuck this up,” I continue, finally spilling some of what had been humming underneath my own excitement. Kissing Xavier was wonderful but what it meant scared me. “I feel the urge to-

“Run,” Jazz finishes for me. “I’ve been there chile and I did run. There hasn’t been a day that has gone by that I haven’t regretted either. That is why you Birdie, are going to stay the course because I’ve seen what’s on the other side so you don’t have to.”

“How do I not get in my own way?” I asked.

Jazz sends me a small smile as she says, “You are already making sure you aren’t. There is nothing wrong with having discernment about the new and exciting. That my dear is healthy so as long as you don’t let it hold you back. Xavier has made you entertain what you already considered to be impossible with friendship. This will only be slightly different but the same kind of beautiful.”

Below the surface, I believe what Jazz is saying to be true. Xavier is unlike any person I have ever met before let alone any other man. He stands in a category all by himself. I don’t have to empty out my skeletons in the closet for him to feel as if he knows me. He observes and adapts so that I’m comfortable with him without the need to. 

“I hope so,” I say, as I take another sip of my drink. 

“What will be, will be. Enjoy the journey Birdie,” Jazz says with a wink.

“I’m going to try. In other news I have a few interviews coming up. Fingers crossed I get a day job again,” I said.

“You will but I’m crossing my fingers all the same. I’m gon’ try to get me a lil piece of official work too. I have a friend who’s going to set me up at this shelter for women as an intake coordinator,” Jazz beams.

“That’s amazing Jazz! Sounds perfect for you as you love telling folks what to do,” I snickered.

“And do! Know the diva okay?!” Jazz hollers causing me to join in on the loud laughter. It’s been awhile since I have laughed with my whole body and it feels good to do so. 

“Look at us, leaving community service on a high note,” I said.

“Here’s to making our people proud wherever they are,” Jazz says, raising her strawberry daiquiri.

I don’t know how she knows I’m in this world mostly alone but Jazz has an ‘all seeing’ way about her I have learned not to question. Instead I raise my glass with an amendment to her statement.

“And making ourselves proud above all. To looking forward.”

“Salute.”