No one knew his beginning or his ending. And he divulged only so much about himself. People could only assume he was somewhere from the west side, where the wealthy lived, but definitely not from this neighborhood.He was too polished, too genteel, too respectable, too educated. The clothes he wore were what we here in the neighborhood only saw in magazines and dreamt of being able to afford one day. He owned all the latest gadgets advertised on television. And most times, months before a cool gadget even hit the stores, he already had it.No one envied or spoke ill of him. Even the gangsters in the ‘hood kept their distance, as if warned off. He treated everyone with utter respect and kindness, so he was widely loved.Every week, by late Friday—as he only came around on the weekends—the neighborhood girls would be atwitter of his arrival, so they'd style themselves, flaunting in the skimpiest of outfits—whatever it took to catch the sparkling blue eyes of the mysterious rich boy from
Someone was watching me. I fought against the darkness and woke up to Josh sitting on the edge of the bed in black slacks and a T-shirt, watching me."Thought you'd never wake up."I stretched. "What time is it?""Noon," he answered. "You’ve slept for fourteen hours." "And I still feel like I haven’t slept at all. I felt so off and weird when I woke earlier.And I had this dream that felt so real…”"What was this dream about?""That’s the thing, I can’t remember it. Yet my mind won’t let it go."He took my hand in his and shifted his gaze out to the balcony. "Who's Nelly?""What?""You kept murmuring the name 'Nelly' in your sleep. This someone I need to know about?" His gaze remained out to the balcony, eyes narrowed, expression distraught."I was dreaming, Josh. And I honestly don’t remember what about. The hell do I know who’s ‘Nelly’?"Silence ensued as he circled his thumb in my lifeline.Abruptly, my head felt as if it’d been hit with a brick as a severe headache smacked me.J
I traced a finger around his lips. "Yep. And I was pissed at myself. Pissed at you because I wanted you so much. I've wanted you since we first talked in the club. Fantasized about you. There’s this…current between us. And something very familiar about you that tethers me to you. I...I can't explain it."Josh watched for a few seconds, unblinking. Then he smirked. "You fantasized about me?"Shyness suddenly crept over me. "Yes.""What was I doing in your fantasies?" he drawled, flashing me a wicked grin."Oiling baby chickens…"Josh broke into a laugh. "What?" "I’m kidding.” I smiled back at him. “You were doing things to me, Nelson. Things that I liked. Things that I loved. Feel-good things. Orgasmic things.""Like?"Touching my forefinger to my lips, I whispered, "You kissed me very gently, here."Josh brushed his soft lips against mine. "Like that?""Exactly like that." I breathed. "Then you let me taste your tongue."He kissed me, and I opened for him, granting his tongue permiss
"Nelly, my fingers hurt,” I complained as I worked on the last cornrow. “Your hair's just too damn long."Plaiting Nelly’s hair was usually a challenge, because it was too soft and silky to grasp from his scalp. And then there was the length—around fourteen inches of hair. I wasn't sure why he liked his hair plaited, anyway. Maybe it made him appear tougher and more street? Or maybe he just liked having my hands in his hair."You don't like my hair long? You wanna cut it?" Nelly asked, always ready to please me even when my complaints were trivial. He made me feel as though he lived and breathed only for me."But then you'd lose all your strength and beauty, my dear Samson," I teased. "I'm no Delilah, I could never do that to you.""So you like it then?""Of course I do. It just takes a hell of a long time to plait," I said. "It's my fingers that protest."Nelly was sitting cross-legged on a thick red blanket while I knelt behind him grooming his hair. We were at our favorite spot—un
Someone was shaking me awake. I reluctantly opened my eyes and was staring right into Josh’s. Again. He was on his side, propped up on one elbow.Something was tickling my cheeks. Tears. I was crying. I was crying in my sleep?"Sorry to wake you, but you were crying so hard I couldn't…" Josh tried to smile but a torn expression marred his features."It's okay,” I whispered. “Thanks for waking me.""Was it a bad dream?" I closed my eyes and tried to remember what my dream was about. There were flashes of the neighborhood I grew up in, the giant oak tree I used to sketch under, the park…there was this person, hugging me, but his face was obscured. The flickers were quick, I had them, and then they were gone. Zilch. "No.""Wanna tell me about it?""I-I can’t remember any of it, Josh."With a sigh, he flopped back on the bed, eyes on the ceiling. "You were dreaming about Nelly again," he said. "Saying his name over and over. Saying you loved him." He looked pained, as though whatever I'
“Tell me his name, Dalia," Michael demanded when I entered his car and he saw my face. My tears ran freely. “Tell me the asshole’s name!”"Chill, Michael.”Michael craned his neck to glare up at the skyscraper building through his windshield. "What did rich boy do? Say the word, Dalia. Say the word and I’ll deliver his head to you John the Baptist style.”"Michael, I promise you, I'm good," I tried to defuse him. "He didn't do anything to me.I just...needed space and snuck out. That’s all."He didn’t believe me. It was obvious. "Y’sure?""Yes." I added a nod with the word for emphasis. "Is Julia at your place?"Michael finally pulled away from the curb. At this ungodly hour, the roads were dark and unpopulated. "Yeah. Been there all week.""And you're out swindling?""Have to make that green, baby girl," he said through his sexy Hispanic accent. His basketball cap barely sat on the side of his head."I'm gonna sleep at your house tonight then. But stop at my apartment first so I can
"I still think we should wait, Dalia. We don't have to do this.”Determined, I yanked Nelly’s arm, pulling him in the direction of his bedroom in his rented flat. To which I held the keys, considering he was only there on weekends. During the week, it was mine to do with as I pleased. My second home. "I know. But I want to.”Nelly inhaled, closed his eyes. When he opened them again, they were blazing with lust, his tenuous reservation unraveled. Cupping my face, he plunged his tongue into my mouth, taking what was willingly his. Our tongues tangled in a sensuous dance.Never breaking, he moved across the bedroom threshold and kicked the door shut. Then the kiss got deeper, more desperate, as he took small steps forward, forcing me backwards until I felt the bed behind me. I toppled backward, and he fell with me, our lips never parting.I love him so much.When he finally parted ways with my lips, we were both panting, breathing ragged."On one condition.""What?" I rasped. "Anything."
Later that night, I woke up alone.Mild stings from various parts of my body reminded me of our passionate exertions. My neck—the love bites. Between my legs—my lost virginity. My lips—from endless kissing and lip biting.Where’d Nelly gone off to?I lazily swung out of bed, searching the apartment. No Nelly. But I could hear the rowdy jeers of boys outside, and knew his crew was under The Big Tree out in the yard smoking marijuana and talking about girls and guns as usual.Yeah, I get that they were his boys and all that, but were they really more important than me right now?Snatching up my cell phone, I sent him a text.Baby, I'm awake.I need more.Please come back inside. Love you.The bed sheets were stained with blood from my broken hymen, so I changed them and grabbed a quick shower, then slid back into bed, waiting.Half-an-hour later, Nelly still wasn’t back, neither did he respond to my text. Then it was an hour. An hour and a half.No Nelly.But I could still hear the bois