THE FLOW

Issue #011

A little over a month before Christmas, I have to get my affairs in order before I go home. On the upstroke with my journey's progress, I can't lounge in my hometown for weeks the way I'd like... And if I do, I need to have everything in order to work from Chicago and come back to the full swing of things in New York.

Picking up the stack of cover swatches, I shimmy across my mess of ideas sprawled past the edge of my couch with an extra dip in my stride produced by a batshit crazy Mary J. Blige. My ponytail's ends kisses the nape of my neck as it swings when I carefully dodge the flame of my perched candle.

KNOCK!
KNOCK!
KNOCK!

The urge to shoo away the unknown visitor with an excuse that's rooted in honesty is too tempting. I am busy. I don't have time for anything that may be being offered to me. I'm also on a budget tighter than Veronica Webb's waist. For this reason, I can't hide the scoff my throat expels as I stomp my way back to the area of my home's entry. My body presses against the door, using the peephole for what it's been made for. Mary's love having no limit becomes nothing but background noise the second I focus in on the sight I've been introduced through this itty bitty glass reflection.

In his hands, flowers. In his bouncing eyes, anticipation. In his blood, however, is the romance of a persistent DeGrate.

An impatient Jared looks over the heap of cloth covering his shoulder as he stands at my door, bundled up in a Jodeci crew member's hoodie and a jacket on top. While my body's hesitance is rooted in my shock, I know better than to wait so long that he'll have to knock on the door again. So, I open it. I open the door, allowing him to witness the mad scientist I've become. Fly away hairs, stained sweatpants, and a tank-top that has become loose as a result of my recent weight-loss.

"Hey."

He didn't have to say anything else. The overwhelming wave of longing taking over me gently pushed the flowers out of the way to fully extend my arms around his body. This stressed as I break out of this chrysalis, he has no idea what a simple hug from him can do.

When I pull away, I accept the kind gesture of the flowers that have been bought and step back, gesturing for him to enter my home. His pursed lips struggling to keep a smile at bay throw out a distracting pair of dimples. 

"How are you?" It's a default question to slide me past the initial rush of emotions I'm swallowing. Once I close the door behind him, my hands twisting the lock brings out my real inquiries. "What are you doing in New York?"

Jared replies, "It's a break in the tour."

"Oh."

Reality slaps me across my face. How desperate am I to have expected an immediate speech about how much he's missed me? I can understand where he comes from, I guess. It was the evil ruby red monster I turned into while cracking under pressure that started the argument. He was the mature one. Leaving was the best thing he could've done. Otherwise, we wouldn't be standing here like this right now.

"And I miss you," he adds. "And it's the time you used ta' be on your lunch break..." As if they are climbing the stairway to heaven, his eyes slowly reach me. "And you know I'm not with skipping out on my promises."

Heart melting out of my chest, I feel my cheeks flushing as I divert my stare to my desk's lamp. Bottom lip tucking itself between my teeth, I sheepishly drag my feet forward. He sits on my main couch as I keep my distance, hiding behind the loveseat closest to my front door. I let him do the talking. I don't know what to say. Besides, I'd rather know how upset he is with me before I go on my apology tour.

"How long you gonna be here?"

"I'm probably not going back." He speaks with an intriguing amount of nonchalance as he sets the flowers on my table. I have to cut my hiding short to get close enough to pick them up. I don't want them to die. "Because I had got a call..." Trailing off, Jared follows me into the kitchen as I search for a fitting vase. "From some dude talking about Aaliayh..."