College Fiend [A$AP Rocky]

Eighteen

Thirty minutes ago I felt a rock in my shoe. I took off the shoe, a dilapidated sneaker which happened to be the only pair I brought with me, and took the rock out. And now, as Quincy and I walked these long and stretched blocks in search of a gas station, I felt the rock again.

This time I didn’t stop to take it out, because for some reason I felt like it was all in my head. Maybe the rock wasn’t even there now, and it was really just something else stuck in my sneaker. Anger. Sadness. That’s what was stuck there.

Those emotions were only directed toward my mother’s situation, though. As for Quincy, I felt nothing toward him. I should’ve been upset and shocked that he would try to force me to tell the one thing that my mother left for me in her will, but instead I felt…nothing, just blankness.

“Are you hungry?” He asked me suddenly. His hair was dotted with dirt, though I didn’t remember him being in dirt all day. His eyes held an unreadable expression and his lips were pulled in a bit. Until now I hadn’t noticed Quincy’s height: he wasn’t that much taller than me, only about two or three inches. One would think he’s over six feet if I described him. That’s how I saw him, anyway—towering over me, not even by a foot but by yards, looking down on me like a god on this earth. On the inside, though, he could be like his height, less threatening than expected.

“Are you hungry?” Quincy repeated. Even as he asked, his voice didn’t sound angry. Maybe Quincy’s not as scary as I thought.

“I don’t know.” I replied. Without any warning or regard, he suddenly took my hand into his and held it loosely. He seemed unsure about the action but couldn’t let go because he already went ahead and did it. And then, to my surprise, his pace slowed down and his eyelids drooped. He looked drained.

I knew it.

 I sensed it. He was weak, at least right now. Quincy needed my strength. As bad as my situation was, his was not all that good either. He deserved to be cheered up.

So I held his hand tighter. I walked faster and pulled him with me, and gave his hand an extra squeeze when the gas station finally came into view. All the while I told myself that he deserved it. He was a human being with feelings and pride and dignity just like me, no matter how hard he slapped me or how much money he stole or how many watches he wanted to sell. It didn’t matter why he saw himself as so ‘wanted’ or why George would be so afraid of him.

None of it mattered. So I kissed him.

The kiss didn’t last long, only a few seconds. It wouldn’t be enjoyable if it was long, because we were walking and would probably trip if we didn’t watch out.

“Thank you.” He said. I smiled, and almost laughed if it weren’t for who I saw handing a cashier money for a bottle of water and a pack of chips at the gas station’s grocery store.

I didn’t tell Quincy who I saw. He walked over to an attendant and I hesitantly walked toward the grocery store. Before I could walk in, Wayne walked out with a smile and a paper bag, and stopped in his tracks when he saw me.

Seeing Wayne felt weird and good and scary. And confusing. I wanted to run over and hug him but I wanted to turn and run away from him in fear of him seeing me with Quincy. Most of all, though, I wanted to know why he was here. How? He should be at the university, not at a gas station in Mississippi wearing sweatpants and a university sweatshirt like he lived around the corner.

For a while we didn’t say anything to each other, only looked at each other. I would say hello to him but it wouldn’t sound right. Nothing would sound right at this moment. He had to speak first.