the other party on the phone. “Oh, yeah? Hell yeah, we can do that.” Yo listened for a second. “I’m in for the day. Bring some Trojan Magnums wit’ you. Okay, cool,” Yo said and ended the call.
“You know you supposed to buy ya own rubbers, right?” Boon quipped.
“Fuck these hoes. I ain’t payin’ fa shit. I take that back; I pay the hoes no attention.” Both guys laughed.
They played six games. Boon won four of the six, during which, Boon had to warn Yo about his mouth. Yo was a sore loser and always resorted to name-calling and bragging about having more money and bitches than Boon.
“You pussy-whooped! That’s the real reason you got one bitch!” Yo shouted, during one heated exchange.
“Mela ain’t no bitch, dog! Watch yo’ muthafuckin’ mouth ‘bout my lady, man, while you up in my shit too, nigga,” Boon shot back.
Yo smirked and apologized for getting out of hand. “My bad, homie. That next ounce of Kush on me; matter fact, I owe you. You know I be takin’ shit too seriously,” Yo told Boon, as he got up and walked over to throw his empty beer bottles away.
“I’ma need that bud, too,” Boon said, half-joking, as he dapped Yo up.
“I gotcha. Just come through tonight. If the music up loud, just come on in. You know I like my shit up loud as fuck,” Yo said, walking out the door.
After a store run to get some Merlot and candles, Boon was back at home, doing some studying. He also drove to Jewel’s on Roosevelt Road to grab a copy of Think Like a Man for him and Mela to watch. Although six months wasn’t very long, in terms of relationships, Boon really liked Mela. He’d had relationships in the past, but none of them lasted very long. Women always told him he was more of the “homeboy” type. He was determined to work this one out. Bootsy Collins sang in his ear, just as he was slowly beginning to doze off, letting him know that Mela was calling.
“Hello,” he answered, after fumbling to get the phone to his ear.
“Were you sleeping? I can wait and come tomorrow, if you want,” Mela said.
“No, nah, baby; I was getting bored, reading this study guide for class. I’m awake; got Merlot on chill and a nice massage waiting for you,” Boon said.
“Sounds good. I’ll be there in about 15.”
He ended the call, got up, and put his book away. Boon cut on some Tyrese, lit four candles, placing them in each corner of the living room, and set out the bucket of ice with the Merlot in it and two champagne flutes. He turned off the lights and sprayed a little Acqua di Giò cologne to erase the cannabis scent. Finally, the mood was set - and not a moment too soon. Mela used the key he’d given her to unlock the door, as he went to wash his hands and grab the massage oil that he had forgotten. He’d bought it from an adult, novelty shop. It was supposed to cause a fierce arousal for both males and females.
“Boon?” Mela called, when she stepped into the dimly-lit, glowing living room.
“Right here, sexy,” Boon replied, setting the oil on one of the end tables. Approaching Mela, he grabbed her coat, scarf, and workbag.
“Boon, you didn’t have to—”
“Sure I did. You deserve to be pampered after a hard day’s work,” Boon interjected.
He walked Mela to the couch and sat down beside her. Boon popped open the bottle of Merlot and began to fill both glasses.
“Boon, you are a great guy; handsome, smart, ambitious, and a great lover. I couldn’t possibly deserve you,” Mela murmured, as she reached for her glass.
“Don’t say that. I dig what we got; seen? I can’t wait to see what the future has in store for you and I,” Boon said, in a voice he was sure would melt Mela. He slowly leaned in for a kiss.
“That’s just it, though,” she mumbled, turning her head to avoid the smooch. “I don’t want that future.”
Boon did not see it coming; just as he had not seen the majority of the other relationships falling apart.
“What… why? I don’t understand, Mela.” His heart skipped a beat, during his retreat.
“I mean… I like you, Boon, but it isn’t strong enough to pursue anything more.” Mela sipped her wine and sat the glass down.
Boon was baffled. “I am there for you. I give you money. We go out. What’s missing, Mela?” Boon retorted, “You sit there and rundown how great of a guy I am, and then you stab me like this?” Boon’s hurt reflected in his voice.
“I didn’t want to hurt you, but I didn’t want you to keep feeling like this was deeper than it is.” Mela stood and went to gather her belongings. “I’m sorry, Boon. Someone will come along and love you how you want them to. It’s just not me.” She sauntered to the door, and just like that, Mela was gone.
Boon sat there dumbfounded. He halfway expected her to walk back in and tell him it was a joke. After 10 minutes had passed, he knew it was not so. He sat in the candlelit dimness for another 30 minutes, wondering what the fuck just happened. He finally got up to go to his footlocker by his bed. Inside, he kept pictures and small forget-me-nots of the serious relationships he had been in. There had only been five before Mela. Holding the empty massage oil bottle, he would put it in the footlocker, along with a picture of Mela.
“I need to smoke one. A nigga nerves is fucked up,” he said to himself. Boon left the box open and went back to the living room to call Yo. Damn voicemail. A second call only went to voicemail again. “That nigga probably got that music blastin’. Lemme go catch this nigga before his company gets there.” Boon rushed out the door.
*
It was a short trip to Yo’s spot. Boon stayed on the fifth floor, in unit 571 and Yo lived in unit 365, on the third floor. Boon took the stairwell down to the third floor. Since he was a kid, he had a serious elevator phobia and avoided them - when he could. As he approached unit 365, Yo had been true to his word. Music, loud as ever, filled the halls. He paid his neighbors, handsomely, not to file complaints. “These bitches love Sosa.…” Chief Keef was blaring through the walls of the loft. Boon knocked, but knew he couldn’t be heard; hell, he barely heard the knocking himself. The nigga said just come in, Boon thought, and then twisted the knob.
“Yo,” Boon yelled. He knew he wasn’t loud enough. When he went towards the radio to turn it down, he saw shifting and moving through a small opening in the bedroom door.
“I’ma go see what this broad look like, since this nigga ‘get so many bitches’,” Boon mouthed, as he tiptoed towards the room.
When Boon got to the door, he could hear what he thought was flesh slapping against flesh. They already fuckin’. Fuck that, I’m goin’ in, he thought.
He heard the woman moaning, “Ooh, Johan. Fuck me right…there. Beat this pussy, boy.”
Boon pushed the door and stuck his head in. He saw Yo’s back to him and the woman bent over the dresser.
“Oh…oh…oh, shit. You fuckin’ the shit outta me,” she moaned.
