This November

Chapter 4

What the hell just happened?

He thought he was finally going to do the things he dreamed about with Nova. When he was younger, he thought of being with her, but it was never about sex. He wanted more than sex from her. Things got messy when she asked what she asked that day. He would have stayed happy being her friend and never acting on those feelings.

Things were different now. He had a glimpse of what it felt like to be with her. Nova was gorgeous, and innocent, but had some sex energy about her that he liked. Maybe something she developed over the years because she sure as hell was not a sex kitten like she was today.

He rubbed his lips remembering her kisses, the way she touched him, how quickly she ripped off his shirt. She was skilled in the sex game for sure now. Someone had gotten to her and taught her all the things he could have.

Many women in his lifetime, still, none held a candle to his November.

Those kisses, her soft moans when he touched her, echoed in his brain as he made his way back home. He should be with her now, in bed, tasting her, making her scream, pleasuring every inch of her body.

What now?

He made it to his place, tossed his ring of keys on the hallway table, and made his way to sit on his white couch and listen to the quietness around him. That's how he liked things. Better to think and motivate him in his craft. Singing and acting. The calm. To get into character or to get into a mood for a nice song.

But the quietness was not working for him today. All his thoughts back to the way November's kisses felt, her hands all over his bare chest. The way her small body felt next to his. The way he wanted to do those things and more over and over to her.

He walked over to his white baby grand piano and sat. He rarely ever played the thing; he grew up playing piano for so many years he kind of hated it. His finger gently touched over the keys, unmotivated.

Nova used to love hearing him play.

It was not cool to be a scrawny half-white kid playing the piano when he was in high school. Where they were from, you had to be tough and about that street life. Roosevelt High School in South St. Louis, while very diverse in student body, but not so diverse attitudes. He and Nova lived in north St Louis and caught the Metro bus every day to get to school. Walnut Park neighborhood, where you were lucky to make it out alive.

Unlike his baby sister. When they first were a happy family, he, his sister, mother, and father seemed to have it all. The American dream they seemed to be. Both of his parents worked decent jobs and owned a nice house on one of the state streets, Wyoming. Money was never their issue as a family. He and his sister had everything they wanted, both spoiled. He loved both his parents and did not prefer one over the other.

Then when he was in middle school, the glass shattered. His parents announced they were getting a divorce and it happened so fast he had no time to process it. But even as a kid, he should have seen it coming. His father was never the committed type of guy and had other women while married.

His father married his mother, a white woman, thinking she would tolerate it, but she kicked him out of the house after many excuses. Once his father found a new place, he wanted to live with him instead of his mother, and his mother allowed that. So he grew up with his father and his womanizing ways to look up to. Their home was a bachelor's pad and he loved it.

His sister, Davina, stayed with their mother and probably had a better, intuitive upbringing because of it. He knew that now, but back then, of course, he wanted the freedom to do whatever. Davina always the over-achiever, an honor roll kid who would rather stay inside than run the streets.