“He’s been staring at you all night, you know.”
My best friend throws this at me, almost like he’s reading my future as he takes a sip of his drink and smirks. I try to feign innocence, but inebriation wins this round. Tequila has slid its way well into my arteries. Mirroring Alex with a sip of my own drink, I raise an eyebrow and chuckle – cheers.
I’m accustomed to arching my neck to observe yet another gentrified apartment complex taking over the city or to watch a plane etch its chem trail across the sky, but men? A rarity. (Precisely why I love being a tall girl, because I don’t have to look up to a man to address him). However with Daniel, well, I have to look up. The view isn’t bad though. He has a soft face. Kind eyes, a nice smile, reasonably dressed. He looks like the type of guy you friend zoned in high school, but then saw at the reunion years later and wondered why you never gave him a chance. A good egg, that one. He bought our drinks all night. I wasn’t mad at all. On top of chivalrous, the man is intelligent, woke, and motivated. And not in the irritating Instagram influencer way. What a specimen. I think I started salivating when he was talking about fragile masculinity and how black men need to talk more about their mental health. He’s a social worker for god’s sake, can he get any sexier?
Now, under laser lights, his long body moves awkwardly to electric beats. Although his dance moves resemble a newborn giraffe struggling to take its first steps, he’s still confident, and self-assured in his awkwardness. Drunk me finds this endearing.
“Soooo c’monnn, what are you going to do?” Alex prods me again. My partner in crime, he plays both Lucifer and Gabriel depending on the situation. However, in this moment he chooses the more incarnate – devouring the obvious sexual tension that was developing between the baby giraffe and I.
“I mean, what do you have to lose? He’s only here for one night. And he’s so obviously into you.” Alex wasn’t wrong. I had picked up on the vibes earlier. Yet, there was something else to his energy. He was clearly holding back for whatever reason…
Oh that’s right. The Girlfriend.
“Ugh well if he wasn’t in a relationship I would be all over him right now.” I sigh, chewing on my straw pensively. Mr. Brightside by The Killers blasts around us, one of the few perks of going to a white club.
Alex pauses mid-head toss to ponder this problem. Then commences to throwing his arms in the air because he knows it’s not his issue. (He dances better than me. Something that makes me both proud and jealous all in the same moment.)
“Ok, like yeah technicallyyyy. But honestly they’ve been together for so long, and he’s told me before that he wants to be open, but his girlfriend is just really against it. So it’s caused some issues…” He trails off letting me make my own conclusions about their relationship status, and where the roulette spin of my morals will land tonight.
“I don’t know, I would say go for it and see what happens.” Alex laughs again and throws his head around swiveling his body like a corkscrew as he joins his other friends in a circle. Sexy ass.
I ponder for a couple seconds more, then walk to where Daniel is uncomfortably two-stepping. He smiles at me, seeming relieved for my feminine presence granting a bit of reprieve from the flirty gays. We chit chat about how well Alex dances, and how all the guys in the club are all over him. He will obviously get laid tonight. We chuckle. Then we hear the all too familiar intro beats to “Golddigger” and like a church choir who has practiced for weeks, our group finds each other in the crowd of sweaty bodies saying “Ohhhhh” in synchronization, setting up for the rap spitting that will commence. The white club we were in suddenly resembling The Sugar Shack, as all these shades of brown found each other .
“NOW I AINT SAYING SHE A GOLDIGGER!” We yell at each other laughing, smiling, throwing our hands in the air,”BUT SHE AINT MESSING WITH NO BROKE NIGGAS!” Our blood gave us birthright to say that last one. Daniel may have muted himself. The Latino Conundrum. I grab Daniel’s hand, the one not holding a drink, and I lift it swaying with him to the music. Bopping, Hopping, Feeling the Rhythm. Bonding with him over communal love for this song, and for the entire era it represents. (Let us pray for Kanye. Weren’t we just talking about black mental health?) Twisting my body under his arm, I swivel my hips slowly back toward him. Getting closer, not even enough room for the holy spirit between us when I know well and clear that he’s been in a committed relationship for years. What am I doing?
The home wrecker archetype has never appealed to me.
But at the same time…he wasn’t doing not shit. He was enjoying this just as much as I was. He would have never bought me drinks (emphasis on the “s”) and he definitely wouldn’t be allowing me to dance like this with him if he was being intentional about not trying to give me any sort of hope.
I decide to play it cool. Letting the intensity build between us for a few more moments, I glance at him over my shoulder and form a half smile but leave my eyes to communicate the rest. Me and my typical Scorpio ass. Then I leave, strolling over to where Alex is and continue dancing with him instead, knowing Daniel will watch.
The clubs don’t stay open past 2. It was 1. My fairy godmother was calling. Alex and some of his other friends want to hit up another club, but I’m tired. I had worked earlier and was exhausted. I was going to go home. I mention I am going to leave, and Daniel hears this – asking if I live far.
“No, I’m just up the street. Maybe a 10 minute walk at most,” I respond casually.
“Oh ok, I’ll walk you back. I’m ready to go too and I wouldn’t want you to walk home alone,” he tells me and starts grabbing his coat. What a convenient Daniel-being-the-gentleman-he-is response. No one could question it.
I find Alex. “I’m heading back to my place, ok? Daniel is going to walk with me.”
“Heeeaaahheeeaaa!!” Alex cackles loudly. Any common sense has left him at this point, and he is boldly cheering me on.
“MMHMMM yeah he’s gon ‘Walk’ ‘You’ ‘Home’!”
With each word he sticks his tongue out and does a little head tilt. I roll my eyes and laugh with him. How could the world not love this darling little Lucifer?
“Wellll have a good time hehe, and let me know what happens.” He winks at me, and walks over to where Daniel is waiting for us to finish our interaction. Alex gives him a hug and thanks him for coming. Turning to look at me he adds, “And make sure she gets home safe,” smiling with all his teeth. I shake my head from side to side, inwardly releasing a “woosaaaahh” as I mouth at him, “I H-A-T-E Y-O-U.” Of course, he just laughs again.
Making my way through the crowd of tangled bodies, I gently nudge people out of the way to finally reach the glorious staircase that saves me from this sweaty sea.
The promised land… ahh beloved Styx Street. We exit one loud, bustling place only to immerse ourselves among all the other clambering drunks who rambunctiously exit one club to move on to the next. Daniel and I walk slowly, not in a rush to return to either of our homes. We talk about all sorts of things, but mainly about community issues for blacks and latinx individuals. His authentic and genuine compassion is so attractive… We turn the corner, and there we are.
Stopped outside my building, I arch my neck at a man.
“This is it,” I smile. “Thanks for walking me back.”
He smiles too, “Yeah no problem.”
Silence oozes in the space between us. I can feel the air, I can sense the proximity of our bodies. My mind is a step ahead of me. I see the kiss happening. I feel his lips against mine, see his arms wrapping around my lower back, pulling me in closer. I reach my hands onto his shoulders and cup his neck tenderly, pulling him down to me. I know he wants this. I start to move my head up and look at him, extending my arms as we start to embrace – I inhale and part my lips as my mouth gets close enough to…
hug.
Just hug.
Some things, although they can be brought to life are probably better off dead.
As we pull apart from the hug, I give him a kiss on the cheek, saying thank you again. I indulge in the moment for a little longer, feeling time stop, feeling the reluctancy in his hands, feeling his continued grip on my waist. It’s priceless… The potential of a moment. The not knowing, yet knowing all the same. You can’t buy the rush of enticement.
I force myself to breathe, feeling my lungs quiver and shake with the effort of an exhale. How long had I been holding my breath? Taking a few rigid steps backward, I look down at my feet. I don’t want him to see my face, my lips paused and open, waiting for the kiss that wasn’t going to happen.
“If you ever visit again, maybe I’ll see you around,” I say, knowing that would probably never happen. Why do we say things we don’t mean? That we know will never occur? Is it reassuring to make false promises?
“Yeah…Have a good night.” Daniel smiles, but looks pained all the same. A smile, but a wince. He waves at me.
“Bye.” I turn, and don’t look back.
The end.
22 and Counting 