Marigolds

Seven

Desmond had led us to one of the empty rooms upstairs. To many eyes, including Kyrah and my cousin, it could have been misinterpreted as something else. But I was determined to prove to him I was far from boring, and far from a goodie two shoes.

He opens the door, letting me in first. My nerves were taking over me and he could tell. "Relax, girl. We ain't doing nothing but smoking, I promise." His words reassured me just a little bit, and I sit down, waiting for him.

"I'm letting you know now, since this your first time, you bound to get high right off the bat. Are you sure you wanna hit this? We can always go back down and enjoy the party, I ain't gone be mad." He asks, sounding a bit concerned.

"I told you I was game, Des," I responded, unaware of the little nickname I had given him. However, he noticed it, and a smug smile forms on his face.

"Des, huh? Giving me nicknames already, Imani?" he teases, before getting up and approaching the door. "Aye, wait here for a minute I gotta get something." I nod, and he closes the door behind him.

I sat in silence for a few moments before he comes in with a tray and a small metal container. Noticing my confusion, he laughs, "I had to get my grinder and my tray. If we gone do this, we go do this right. Imma have yo ass higher than a kite, you feel me?" I roll my eyes, trying to stifle a laugh.

I watch as he opens the plastic bag and takes out a bud, putting in a small container and squeezing it shut, the proceeding to twist it several times. "So what's been up with you? Where you been at all these years?"

"Nothing much. I'm a senior in college, it sucks but hey, this is what I signed up for." I shrug.

"Oh, that's what's up. I'm glad you decided to keep doing school. You always been smart as hell. What's your major?" I look down embarrassed, he saying that I'm smart but my major didn't match up with his words.

"Well, I'm an English Literature Major."

"Like for writing and shit?" I nod, he was the only one who asked about my major. Everybody automatically assumed I'd be studying nursing or law, but whenever I tell them I'm pursing a writing career, they weren't exactly supportive, especially not my parents.

"Aw Sukie Sukie now, we got ourselves a little J.K Rowling." He teases and I let out a small giggle.

"You actually know who that is? I didn't think you were the reading type, honestly." He gasps and puts a hand over his chest, pretending to be hurt. "A lot of people be saying that. But the truth is? That reading shit is good for the soul. You can be street smart all you want, but being book smart? That's a different type of feeling." He says, opening the top of the grinder to check if the bud was all crushed down.

"So, what type of books are you into, Des?" I mused, wanting to see if he really was into books, or if he was just putting on a front. I could tell he was a player, probably the type to tell girls what they wanted to hear just to sleep with them. I wouldn't be surprised if that's what he was trying to do now.

"Well, let's see.." he paused, thinking for a moment. "The last book I read was The Old Man and The Sea, you know by Hemingway? It was pretty good, had a lot of interesting themes in there. So I guess books like those."  I stare at him in surprise and he just shakes his head smiling before focusing back on what he was doing.

"You thought I was bullshitting." It wasn't a question, it was if he had already known.

"I mean yeah, I know what type of boy you are." He pauses, and his eyes meet mine, his gaze hard and his lips curved up in a small smirk.

"Really? So tell me, Imani. What type of man am I?" He corrects, a dangerous glint in his eyes. I gulp, the room had suddenly felt hot and I knew I had to change the topic before things got out of hand.