He's Just a Friend Read online

  I looked up at Alana, still focused on the TV, and grabbed my phone. “What’s up?” I said quickly.

  “Ay, I’m sure Alana is there.” She laughed. “Just want you to save Saturday for the Art Crew.” I took a long breath when I heard her reference us as the Art Crew, a name she and Skylar coined when we were in high school. As creative as they both were, they couldn’t come up with a better name. “Skylar will be here and wants to go out.”

  Of course she did. Out of all of us, Skylar was the only one who didn’t come back home after college. Instead, she decided to move a few hours away, to the city. Whenever she was home she wanted to party like she was still in the city. Our town had one club, and a few bars. “Where is she trying to go?”

  “The club. She is celebrating her promotion.” A commercial break brought Alana’s attention back to me and I hurried my call with Brooklyn. “You can invite your girl, if you want.” I hung up before agreeing to invite her. Skylar hadn’t been too kind to having outsiders, as she liked to label them, especially my girlfriends.

  Alana looked over my plate and said, “Looks yummy.” Since being together, Alana had only eaten my food once. She didn’t know what she was missing out on most of the time. “Next time I’m over I’m going to cook you a plant-based meal.”

  As I stuffed a forkful of chicken into my mouth I said, “Sure.”

  Alana looked at my phone near my plate and asked, “Who were you on the phone with?” I’m sure she already knew, but I told her anyway. “Oh? How is she?”

  “She’s good.” If I wanted to invite her to the club with us, it would have been a good time to do so, but I let the end of the commercial break draw her back to the TV.

  “That’s good, we should all go out together again,” she said as she cozied back onto the couch. Brooklyn was good with my girlfriends, she’d even invited Alana out without me. Alana had yet to take her up on her offer though.

  “We should,” I offered, still keeping the club outing to myself.

  My plate was cleared and her show had ended. Alana started her day early in the morning and usually went to bed early. When she was staying over I tried to crawl in bed with her, even though I usually stayed up much later. “Mind if I hop in the shower?” she asked. I shook my head and she disappeared to my bedroom.

  I stayed in the living room, because Alana hated for me to be in her space while she got ready for bed. Sometimes I wondered why she even liked to stay over. I flipped through the channels while I heard the shower running. I landed on National Geographic and watched a black widow waiting in its web for prey. Watching it reminded me of Brooklyn when we were young. She would sit and watch animal documentaries for hours trying to convince me it was interesting.

  I looked up from the TV to see Alana waiting by my bedroom door, quietly. Like spooky as fuck. “All done,” she whispered. “Coming to bed?” I grabbed the remote and turned back to the TV just in time to watch the spider devour a moth. I nodded my head and turned the TV off. Alana disappeared into my dark room.

  I walked in behind her turning on the light. “I can’t see shit in the dark,” I huffed. I looked at the bed and she was cozied up, on my side. “You know that’s my side, right?” I said before I walked into the bathroom. With the shower running I counted backwards, Carl Winslow style, and tried to figure out why Alana was irking my nerves.

  Then I remembered what Tony said and I laughed. I’d be damned if I would prove him right. I hopped in the shower, ignoring the smell of floral-scented bath wash Alana left behind. With the hot water rolling off my shoulders, I lathered myself with my musk-scented body wash, and then sat under the stream of water till the temperature dropped.

  I didn’t bother with underwear or the sweats I’d usually wear to bed. Instead, I just wrapped the towel around my waist and went to my bed, where Alana was sprawled out. Snoring. What the fuck?

  Most of the time she usually waited up for me to at least make it in the bed. I dropped my towel to the floor and climbed in beside her, keeping my distance so my dick wouldn’t rub her before she had the chance to wake up. I nudged her shoulder and whispered, “Alana, Alana,” till her eyes opened slightly.

  “You okay?” she asked. My eyebrows scrunched and I tried to find the words to tell her I wanted to be up inside of her, but she said, “I’m so tired,” and rolled away from me. I climbed back out of the bed, snatching the towel from beside the bed, and climbed into my boxers and sweats. Alana could have the bed. It was too early for me to sleep anyway. I went back to the couch and fired up the PlayStation. As I played a few games I solidified Alana’s exclusion from the club. There was no way I was inviting her after she came over to watch her show and fall asleep.

  She tapped me on my shoulder, and I looked up from the couch into her freshly made up face. Unlike me, she had a restful night, it seems. I was cramped on the couch, half frozen because I fell asleep without a blanket. “Good morning,” she said softly. I looked to the window, and it was still dark. “Fell asleep on the couch?” Guess it wasn’t obvious so I nodded my head. “I’m headed out. Can we catch up later?” I shrugged and closed my eyes.

  After she left, I moved from the couch to my bed where her scent remained, on my pillow. I laughed at myself and curled up under the blankets.

  Three

  Brooklyn

  “Where Brooklyn at, where Brooklyn at?” Because she’s a fool and won’t let Biggie Rest In Peace, Skylar walked through my door singing the song she always sang when we first saw each other.

  I shook my head and yelled, “Shut up.” Skylar took a seat on my couch and laughed. “Where’s your bag?” I asked.

  “Oh, it’s in the car.” She looked around my apartment and scrunched her nose. “Didn’t know what you had going on over here. Last time I was here seemed like you had some”—she cleared her throat and grabbed the collar of her shirt—“problems.”

  “Problems?” I repeated. Okay, my apartment wasn’t the most lavish place I could stay, but hell it was mine and I was about to set Skylar’s uppity ass straight. “Don’t come over here with your pretentious, I live in the city, can’t hang with the townsfolk ass talking about my”—I waved my hands through the air—“space.”

  “Whoa.” She stood from the couch and walked towards me, arms outstretched. “Chill. I was just saying that last time I was here you had no more hot water and we had to take cold showers.” She wrapped me in her arms. “Remember?”

  “Oh.” I cackled into her shoulder. “I just read you for nothing. You’re right. You’re right. I had problems last time you were here.” Then I wagged my head. “May or may not be a problem today too.” Skylar slapped my back. “I was busy,” I said through gritted teeth.

  “You did read me for nothing, glad you didn’t talk about Juanita.” I side-eyed her, ‘cause she would have had to really say something crazy for me to talk about her mama. She backed away staring me in the eye. “Am I sensing needs dick tension?”

  My eyes bulged. “Maybe. You know me and Marcus are no more.” Of course she knew. When he broke up with me she was the first person to offer to ride out to key his car, slash his tires, and egg his house. Josiah was the second. I pouted my lips. “And that was some good dick.” Hence, the reason I denied their requests.

  She sighed. “Damn, Brook, tonight we aren’t just celebrating my promotion.” She squared her shoulders and held her head high. “We are getting you laid.” I rolled my eyes because that was not going to happen. I was single, but I didn’t want to have one of those hook-ups I’d regret if Marcus and I ended up back together.

  I shook my head and Skylar placed a hand on each of my shoulders. “Ma’am, Marcus has moved on.” Her mouth formed a grin wider than necessary for what she said next. “’Bout time, ‘cause you and J.O. need to make it happen anyway. But since he’s spoken for right now, just get some random dick.” She removed her hands from my shoulders and walked to the kitchen.

  “It’ll do the body good,” she shouted from my open
refrigerator.

  “Speaking of dick,” I said leaning on my kitchen counter, “Whose are you riding these days?” I rarely had time to drive into the city to meet up with Skylar. We talked on the phone all the time, but her sex life was hardly ever spoken about. When we were in high school she had a sexy ass boyfriend. She landed the new boy his first week of school our sophomore year and didn’t let him go till graduation. In college, she was all over the place, never settled down with anyone.

  She smiled coyly. “You should come visit sometime.” That’s all she said. I shrugged and agreed I’d come visit her next time. “Bring the whole crew, we could make it a weekend.”

  I looked at the clock and asked, “Since you aren’t getting dressed here where are you getting dressed?” She plopped a grape in her mouth.

  “I guess my mama’s house. She has warm water and would love to see you.” She smirked. Growing up, our mothers became close, but when my dad died my mom shied away from her friends, including Juanita. “You know, my mom told me she saw your mom the other week at the grocery store.” I waited for the crazy words she would say next. “They planned to meet up for lunch one day.”

  “My mom? Really?” That was an improvement. My mom had since been seeing a therapist to move past the years long mourning she had subjected herself to. “Maybe therapy is working.” Skylar nodded her head. Like Josiah, Skylar and her family swooped in when Phoenix and I needed them, or even when we didn’t. “I’m hoping one day she’ll just snap out of it and be back to the mom I knew before Dad passed away.”

  “Aw, Brook, let’s not get all emotional now.” Her nose wrinkled. “You know once these tears start rolling it’s hard to make them stop.” I laughed. Skylar cried more than I did at my own dad’s funeral. At some point, I just stared into space, no tears, no thoughts. But Skylar insisted on sitting next to me to hold my hand as she sniffled through the entire service.

  “Let me grab some clothes,” I told her, “and I’ll come with you to your mom’s house.” I threw my outfit for the night into my duffle bag along with my hair supplies and make-up. “Alright, let’s roll,” I said as we walked towards the door. I made sure to point out my new doorknob as I locked my apartment.

  Skylar shook her head. “The fact that you needed a new door knob.” She looked at me and smiled. “But I’m not judging.” We both laughed as we ran down the stairs and into her car. Skylar had been living the good life, with a corporate job and pay to match. She couldn’t relate to my struggle as a small business owner. “I hope my mama cooked.”

  “Me too,” I added. Like me, Skylar didn’t learn how to cook, but her mama was a chef in the kitchen. “How’s your dad doing?” I asked. Skylar’s parents divorced when we were in middle school, her mom re-married when we were in high school and her dad stopped coming around soon after.

  “Good question,” she said with a pop of her lips. “Last time we spoke he was traveling to Europe with some young chick he met a few months ago.” I nodded my head as it sounded about right. A young chick was the reason for her parents divorce, and although he never re-married, he kept a steady flow of young chicks around. “It’d be nice if he’d sit his ass down and visit me.”

  “He’s out here living his best life.” I looked out the window as we pulled into her mom’s driveway. “Can you blame him?”

  Skylar hopped out of the car without responding. She grabbed her bag and walked to the front door, looking behind her before she opened it. I grabbed my bag and followed. “Juanita,” she yelled into the house, and I cringed. Skylar started calling her mom by her first name when we were in high school. Josiah used to joke that she learned that from her white friends on the cheer squad. Neither of us would have dared to call our mamas by their first names. But after years of scolding, she still did it.

  Her mom rounded the corner with her hand on her hip. “Girl, why are you yelling my name like I owe you something?” her mom asked. Time had been kind to Ms. Juanita. Her face was smooth with few wrinkles, and her body still had curves to envy.

  She spotted me behind Skylar and said, “Brooklyn Davison.” She opened her arms wide and wrapped them around me. She stepped back and put her hand to her head slicking down her ponytail. “It’s been too long since I’ve seen you. Especially since we are in the same town.” She was right, for our town to be so small, it was too easy to never see anyone, if you didn’t want to. “I need to come down to your shop and let you bless my hair.”

  “I’d love to,” I said with a grin.

  Skylar looked between the two of us and said, “Alright, reunion over.” She nodded her head towards the back of the house. “We need to get dressed.”

  In her childhood room, one still adorned with her cheer trophies, she rummaged through her suitcase and pulled out an outfit. “What about this?” I nodded my head. The grey jumpsuit would look perfect on her. “And these peep toes?” She dangled a black pair of booties in front of her.

  “They work.” As she hopped in the shower I sprayed my hair and finger combed gel through my curls. I sat in the middle of her room with a club mix playing on my phone. The beat for “Single Ladies” dropped and Skylar danced out of her bathroom, towel wrapped around her. “Tonight feels like a journey down memory lane,” I said.

  She looked at me and said, “This time, get your shit right with J.O.”

  “Get my shit right?” I asked, dragging out my question.

  She waved her hand in the air as she danced to the song. “Just go get dressed.”

  When we were both dressed, we snapped a few pictures for Instagram before we climbed into her car headed for the club. When we arrived a small line was formed outside. “The guys should be inside,” I said as we walked past the line to the door where we knew the bouncer. He graduated high school with us and always treated us right when we came to the club.

  With a kiss to each of our cheeks, he waved us into the club. “Don’t hurt ‘em tonight,” he said behind us.

  Tony and Josiah were leaned against the bar watching the crowd dance when we found them. “Where’s your girl?” Skylar asked Josiah before we could even exchange pleasantries.

  He shook his head. “You know you don’t know how to act when other chicks come along,” he said with a laugh. “What’s up, Brooklyn?” he said, wrapping his arm around my shoulder.

  “Damn, y’all out here half naked,” Tony said giving us each a hug while he stared us down. “I didn’t come out here ready to fight tonight,” he said plucking his collar. “I’m too clean for that.” Tony was dressed in a polo and jeans, nothing special at all. I rolled my eyes at him because we all knew Tony wouldn’t even fight in street clothes.

  “Whatever, Tony.” Skylar smirked. “Order us a drink,” she demanded as she nuzzled herself between the two. “I’m celebrating tonight.”

  Tony handed us each a shot and we said, “Ass up,” as we took the shot of tequila. “Damn, that doesn’t go down like it used to,” I said as I slammed the shot glass on the bar.

  “You’re a light weight,” Josiah said. “You’ve always been a light weight.” He elbowed me. He was right, I could never hang with the three of them. In high school, when we snuck into the stash at Tony’s house, I’d be done after the second drink. Then in college when I had more experience with drinking, I still could only get three shots in before I was giggling like a schoolgirl.

  Skylar asked if we wanted to join her on the dance floor. The guys shook their heads so we left them behind. We danced with each other till a couple of guys joined us. Skylar was showing all her ass, bending over and dropping it low. I couldn’t be outdone, so I followed her lead. I was bent over when I felt a hand brushed up against one of my ass cheeks and it didn’t move.

  I stood trying to get his hand to fall, but he still had a handful of ass when I shimmied away from him. “Watch it,” I warned. Skylar kept her eyes on me as she continued dancing to “Big Ole Freak.” I changed up to a two-step, but when he came in close again, breathing on my neck, I stood
still.

  Skylar stepped in front of him and said, “I think you need to back up,” and that didn’t go over well with him. He gave her a side-eye and pushed her to the side.

  Next thing I knew, Josiah was beside me and in the dude’s face. “You alright, Brooklyn?” he asked as he stared him down. I nodded my head as the dude backed away, finally.

  “See, I knew some shit would pop off tonight.” Tony shook his head. “Y’all in here too fine.”

  Skylar crossed her arms across her chest. “Too fine? What kind of shit?”

  Tony rubbed a hand across his forehead. “Oh, here we go.” I shook my head at the two of them interacting, it was like we were back in high school. The two of them always fought. About everything.

  “Brooklyn”—Josiah pulled me to the side by my elbow—“you good?”

  I groaned. “Yeah I’m good.” I looked down at my shirt and tugged at the hem. “Sorry you had to step in for me.”

  “You know I got you.” The problem was I did. He’s always had me, but he shouldn’t have to. My nose wrinkled and he said, “There you go. Thinking too hard again.” I laughed. “You’re still holding your own,” he said with his hands raised in front of his chest.

  “I think I need a drink,” I said walking past him to the bar.

  Four

  Josiah

  I should have known stepping to that dude would have triggered Brooklyn. She never wanted to be saved, always felt like she had to do shit on her own. Ever since we were younger and she obviously needed help, she would rather struggle than to ask someone else.

  I followed her to the bar to calm her nerves so the whole night wouldn’t be ruined. “Hey,” I said leaning on the bar beside her. “Ready for another shot of tequila?” I asked.

  “No,” she said shaking her head. “I don’t need any more hair on my chest.” She looked down at her chest, cleavage popping out from the top of her shirt and although my eyes lingered, I quickly averted my gaze when she looked up.