More or Less

Chapter 12 • Ecstasy & The Stars

(Photo is the girl from the elevator, Eni)

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Stephon's POV

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"Where to, sir?"

I look up and meet hooded, brown eyes in the dashboard mirror. They seem tired and, to my surprise, oddly amused.

Immediately, I know it's a young woman, even though I could only see half her face. The suppleness of her skin and the wideness of her eyes gives away the secret of her age. She's a teengaer. Reluctantly working the job of of a taxi driver due to her parent's wishes, no doubt.

Why was she looking at me that way? Has she listened in to Alisha's and I conversation? I wouldn't be surprised if she did. A woman almost crashes into your car, runs out barefoot, and then begins to cry hysterically... why wouldn't you be curious?

I take a deep breath.

I'll call her once I've settled in a hotel room. Maybe talk her to sleep and tell her, even though we are in seperate beds, I still care very much for her. I just need some time to think and sort things out without her seducing me to do what she pleases.. I chuckle to myself at that thought.

I wonder if she knows of the power she has over me.. I'm surprised I backed away from her touch.

A voice awakens me from my thoughts. "Sir?" The teenager says again. "I could drive for hours. The only thing it'll do is raise your bill."

"The Marriot Hotel." I inform her, distracted by the shapes whizzing by outside the passenger window, where I lay my arm. She's driving dangerously fast, so I tell her to slow down. This wheather shouldn't be tested by an adolecent's impatience. She quietly obliges and shifts to a safer speed. She isn't at all happy with it, but doesn't fuss.

"So," She says after an awkward moment, her tone casual, "Was that your girlfriend back there or what?"

"Uh..." I struggle to find an answer, but there wasn't a proper name to call Bootyhead. She wasn't my girlfriend, nor was she just a friend. "It's complicated." I simply reply.

She raises an eyebrow. "Oh?" She muses. "What's so complicated about it?"

I chuckle. "I'm paying you to be my taxi, not my therapist."

The girl continues as if I haven't spoken. "Everything doesn't need a title, you know. It's good to just let things... ride. But, when things become difficult, a title might be what you need so that things are smoother."

I ponder that for a moment, thoughtfully rubbing my chin. "But what if we already have a title that I don't want to jeopardize?"

"What do you mean?" She asks, dumbfounded. "Like what?"

"Best friends."

"Oh, man." She sighs in pity. "The friend zone. Where potential relationships crash and burn."

I couldn't help but laugh at her tone. "Exactly."

"I mean..." She says with a shrug, "It isn't impossible to be both a best friend and then a lover."

"Says no one ever."

"Aren't you optimistic."

I smirk. "I have my reasons not to be."

She doesn't reply to that, but glances up at me for a quick moment. Eyeliner was smudged under her eyes, and her hair fell in twisted, dark blonde, thick locks down her face. She reminds me of a hippy, in a way. A carefree, lost soul.