Something was happening to me and it was something that I really couldn’t talk to anyone about. Since that night when Marcus and I talked and shared, I got this weird tingly feeling whenever he gave me a small secretive smile.
Like I was the only one who knew who he really was and where he came from.
My hands got sweaty when he talked to me and my heart felt like it would burst out of my chest.
I consulted that romantic novel John gave me but all they talked about was heaving bosoms and the guys enormously well built chest.
I shake my head and concentrate on stocking the shelves.
“You look tired.” Marcus tells me.
I look up at him.
“Well, the heat makes me sleepy.”
“Go home.”
The way he said it made the back of my neck itch.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
I walk home and lock the door behind me. I turn on the air conditioner and lie on the couch. I turn on the TV but nothing catches my interest.
I leave it on a cop show.
Tommy snuggles down next to me and his warmth lulls me to sleep.
When I next wake up, there’s a blanket over me and the television is off.
I lie there for a moment and then get up.
Marcus isn’t there but there are some shopping bags on the kitchen table.
I go to the fridge and it’s loaded with food as well as the freezer and there are three different kinds of ice cream and some ice cream cones.
I pull out the carton of black cherry ice cream and go into the living room to eat.
I turn on the TV and flip the channel until I land on an action movie.
“Have you eaten?”
I look up at Marcus and swallow the spoon full of ice cream that I had in my mouth.
“No.” I say.
He gives me a disapproving look.
“I though you said you weren’t going shopping? Not that I don’t appreciate it.” I say quickly.
“How do you feel?”
“Good. What time is it?”
“Seven at night.”
“Wow. I can’t believe I slept so long.”
“Are you hungry?”
I hold up the carton of ice cream.
He shakes his head and sits on the couch.
He grabs the remote and changes the channel.
I sneakily slide closer to him on the couch.
His clean fresh scent fills me.
The ice cream I ate sits uncomfortably in my stomach.
I put the carton on the coffee table and sit back.
I rub my stomach.
“Go to the bathroom.” Marcus says.
“What?” I ask.
