That October Night

Chapter 9

Someone you've known for five months can be more loyal than the person you've known for five years. The length of friendship doesn't determine loyalty.

          THE MINUTE I HEARD that roaring engine I already knew it was Hakeem's mustang, so I dashed downstairs to open the door before the cat purring doorbell rang.

I stood in silence as I observed Hakeem's hair. He ditched his usual gel down hairstyle for his natural curls.

"Like it?" Hakeem asked, inviting himself in when I took too long to do so.

I gave him a once over before I closed the door. "It's kinda dope."

"Kinda?" He looked offended but I know he was only joking. "More like all the way."

"You're already full of yourself. No need to boost up your ego, but yeah I like it. This hairstyle makes you look more..." I breathe in deeply as I thought of the best word to describe it. "...childish. It makes me just wanna play with your hair."

I reached up and ruffled his hair to emphasize my point.

Whoah, his hair really was as soft as it looked.

"Thanks but you suck with the adjectives, my friend. How about dashing, drop-dead gorgeous, or even dapper?" He frowned.

"How about no?" I laughed, going upstairs to get the homework that I did earlier this morning. Hakeem followed me, taking his time to observe my room.

Slowly and silently.

When his eyes fell on the shoe rack behind my door that was filled with different snacks, he took a pack of Twizzlers and started eating it.

Hakeem nodded towards my bed with a Twizzler hanging out his mouth, tracing the Ray & Ray that was written in our own handwriting near my headboard.

"Why is the wall behind your bed the only one with colorful handprints?"

"I can't exactly answer that, to be honest."

This time his eyes fell on my mini-refrigerator, bathroom door, and flat-screen television on the wall. "Do you even come out?!"

"Nope.....well only to go over at Ramona's."

"Who's that?" Without asking he went into my bathroom and started brushing his hair into a low ponytail.

With an eye roll, I tugged him out of the room. "Ray's mother," I answered, closing the door behind me. "Across the road," I added just in case he decided to ask where.

On our way to school, we exchanged childhood stories, and by the time we had reached in the school's parking lot; I felt as though I had known Hakeem for years. Midway into telling him about the time I broke my arm by doing black flips with my brother and his friends, I stopped talking.

It was like something told me to look through the rearview mirror and when I did; I saw Virginity exiting her parent's car with a big, black ling cloak.

First, I thought she must've had the fever or something because the sun was smiling down my neck on my way to Hakeem's car.

It wasn't until her parents were out of sight that she took off her cloak and shoved it in her bag, revealing her cheerleader uniform.

"She does that all the time," Hakeem informed me as he got out.

Looked like her parents didn't know that their angel wasn't an angel after all.