Cinnamon, Blueberries, & Other Subjects to fill a Book of Poetry

Reese

He signs his text messages. Who does that?

Samael Greene, apparently. 

Helluva name. Apparently that was Lucifer's name before he fell from heaven or whatever. Not surprising, given how religious this shitty town is, but not fitting in the slightest. Sammy's just about the furthest thing I can think of from the devil. I figure his parents got a kick out of giving their kid a name like that. Assholes. 

He definitely deserves better, not that I know much about his family. He's got a cousin, that's the long and short of what he's told me. But he always seems so weird about it. Not good weird, like he usually is. Like, sad. I figure there's gotta be a reason for that. I wanna help fix it, which makes me feel dumb. I guess I'm okay feeling a little dumb for him. 

Gross. 

I'm really not big on doing shit to fix other people's feelings. It's not that I'm not a people person, you gotta understand, but you can't look like me, act like me, /be/ like me if you think about how you make other people feel. Especially in a town like this.

 Worrying about how people react to you is stupid. 

And, worrying about how people /might/ react to you later? 

Big no-no. My tia taught me that. Tough chick she was, /she/ definitely didn't take anything from anybody. She went through life the way she wanted and she went out on her terms.

 What would she'd think if she saw me now? Catering to, of all people, this complete dork of a man who signs his fucking texts like a nutjob. He writes poetry for fuck's sake.

And, why? 

Because I want him in my goddamn pants? 

Fuck if I know. At first that was it, At first that was it, I guess, at first I just liked teasing him. It made me laugh how nervous he was at first, I'm used to that, but then I asked him if he was lost and it was like turning on a tap. Or, maybe a pipe bursting? I dunno, he's probably better with this shit than me. All I know is that taps can be turned off and Sam definitely /can't/ turn off. He never shuts up. He asked me a million and a half questions and I answered them because it was kind of funny how he only got more and more worked up the more questions I answered.

 I liked making him wait for it though. He gets all jittery and stares at me like there's nothing he'd rather be doing than learning, I dunno, my favourite animal or something. Then, things changed, I guess. I noticed the way that he looked at me the first time I wore a crop top, at that shitty coffee place down the street from his shitty job, and I almost leapt over the goddamn table.

I wore more crop tops after that.