Safiya, Lela, Alyssa, and Harmony have finally made it to their senior year. With two more semester to go what could possible go wrong. A lot, when you have a wedding to plan, MCATs to ace and a homicide to solve. All relationships won't survive but...
The Chicago native sauntered around the tables refilling the cups of customers that were drinking plain coffee. Lela was refreshingly surprised by how many people actually consumed a regular cup of brew. It was probably because the price of a cup of joe was four dollars cheaper than a specialty frappe or americano and like her customer from yesterday put it 'ain't nobody got the coin for that.' Lela, however, had the coin, as of last month her bank account was stacked with coins, dollars, and commas.
"Whew," Lela sighed as she stopped by the table in the middle of the room. The square, shellac pine table couldn't be seen covered with textbooks. "I can't wait 'til October. It's hot today."
Samuel tsked with his head still looming over his psychology textbook, "It's hot every day. Anyways, you're inside." He and Trevor had been there for a little over ten minutes and before that, they were in the torturous long line at the campus bookstore.
"I like it," Trevor held up his empty mug looking, unlike the man she fell in love with. He started using Cairo's barber—a drummer for the marching band instead of his high-priced hair-sculptor. His long locks were cut and tapered to a brush of loose curls that she'd grown accustom to brushing her hand over every time he was near.
Lela tipped the half-filled coffee pot over it letting the black liquid flood the mug as Trevor continued, "You know sweating is good for you. It rids the body of impurities."
Lela lifted the coffee pot, "I can think of other ways to sweat than having the devil's breath on my back." She picked her braids off her neck as if the mass was adding heat to her skin and put them over her shoulder.
Samuel ignored Trevor's mischievous grin and unlike his new roommate he hadn't had his coil mane clipped—it was lined and tapered in a medium afro glistening with jojoba oil "Where'd you hear that from? One of your juice guru's in LA."
"No," Trevor dropped a cube of sugar in the coffee and a little cream. "I read it in a book." He fanned his hand around the books until he located the one with the knowledge he just learned. "This one." He held up an orange book with the words Homepathic Health: How the Earth Can Heal.
"You're taking that class?" Samuel scrunched his face in confusion. "Trying to get an easy A this semester.
"Insurance is too expensive." Trevor told handing the book over to an interested Lela. "And now since I'm footing all my bills...I cancelled it."
"You what?" Lela's chocolate eyes flew from the colorful book and landed on Trevor. "You're playing right."
Trevor sat back in his chair, "I never get sick. It's a waste of four hundred a month. Multiply that by twelve and...and you'll understand why."
"What if you get in a car wreck?" Samuel started.
"And break your leg." Lela cut him off, leering at him with a hand on her hip. "Or get appendicitis? Tonsillitis? Get stabbed by a rusty knife and need stitches."
"Okay, that's way out there." Samuel laughed out and Trevor echoed him. "Who's going around welding a rusted knife?"
"Yeah, babe." Trevor latched his hand on Lela's blue jean pocket. He hoped his smile would soften her harden glare but all it did was make her narrow her eyes. "Hospitals have the hippocratic oath so if I go in there running a fever or bleeding out they'll have to patch me up."
Lela slapped the book on the table and the noise brought a few eyes over to them, "You should have discussed this with me. I'm going to be your wife...we must talk about these things." From the corner of her eye she caught the way Samuel gagged at the utterance of the word wife but she paid it no mind.
He wasn't the only one that thought she and Trevor shouldn't get married. His parents abhorred the idea of them being in a committed relationship and her therapist thought she shouldn't be making a vow to love and cherish one man at the young age of twenty-two. Lela knew what that the idea of matrimony was a painful one for Sylvan now that she was getting divorce. There was one other person that objected the thought of her getting married and he was texting her, right now. She could tell by the ding of her phone in her back pocket. It was Daniel. Lela let her face return to it's soberness as she peered at Trevor knowing it wasn't cool to read a text from your ex-boyfriend in front of your fiancee.
"Speaking about discussing things," Trevor tightened his grasp on her pocket and pulled her closer to him. Once she was at his side, he wrapped his arm around her waist, "I think you should buy that food truck we saw the other day."
"What truck?" Samuel inquired skimming through the sleek, glossy pages of another textbook.
Lela let out a breath as she leaned into Trevor, happy to have some pressure off her feet. "Last week we checked out a few cars so I can get a new one and stop driving his gas guzzler and we found this beat up food van."
"So, you're finally going to spend that inheritance?" Samuel shut the book and started reaching for another—this one wrapped in plastic.
Lela grimaced. It wasn't an inheritance to her. The money was a remainder that her grandmother died last month and it wasn't much to be happy about.
"I'm still weighing the pros and cons." She glanced out the window to see if the group of people parading down the sidewalk were coming in Jolt but they kept walking by engrossed in conversation. "I'm going to talk about it with Sylvan...see if it's a good project."
"You don't have to ask her," Trevor craned his neck to see her better. "What do you want?"
"I need to ask Sylvan." She reiterated. "I have things I want to do but she knows what's best for me."
"I know what's best for you, too."
"Trey..." Lela unwrapped his arm from around her waist. "We're not having this conversation, here."
"Then, later."
Lela glared at him then thought it was best that she go back to the counter before she and Trevor have words in public. "Maybe." She bit out before returning the coffee pot back to the hotplate.
Does Lela need to talk to Sylvan about the food truck venture before she commits?
Why do you think Trevor doesn't agree that she needs to talk it over with her therapist?
Was it a good idea for Trevor to cancel is health insurance and should Lela be upset?
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
