Whirlwind

48

[Lamarr]

"Got damn," I griped to myself and Mike who sat on the other end of the line, more than likely wrinkling his face up just as I was from the deafening horns honking around me.

Outside O'Hare, alike to many major airports, you could find an assembly of taxicabs, Ubers and other forms of transportation waiting patiently along the sidewalk for someone to flag them down. It was like a rat race to see which disgruntle, road raged driver could get the first person with luggage they see, and which exhausted landee would catch a ride before another. No matter what time of day, whether if it were late night or a little bit after nine in the morning like now, this was bound to be the scenery. The mass of mess was inescapable. Without a doubt it was all still entertaining to witness from my view, propped up against an SUV that I was smart enough to order ahead of time, but it was not fun to listen to. It was all pure chaos and making it harder for me to multitask listening, conversing and scanning the area as I was trying to now.

"Aye, can you repeat that again?"

"Nigga," Mike began as a hint of impatience bruised my ears. "I said, why don't you just ask her?"

"Do you even listen to me when I'm venting? I told you already, I have asked and on several occasions. Last time Riley gave me a little bit more, and I'm sure she figured it would hold me over, but instead it pissed me off and felt like a slap in the face. She basically looked me in the eyes and said that she wasn't over this dude."

"No, she said she wasn't over it, it being the situation and how it ended." he corrected, and the audacity behind his need to back her bullshit and the fact I had wasted time repeating myself, made me suck my teeth as I pursed my lips, unmoved. "I'm sure if she wasn't over him and still wanted to be with him, she'd be with him."

"This is Riley Coleman we're talking about. The same woman who didn't speak to me for three years and tried to act as if she didn't have feelings for me, yet look where we are now; together, and now I'm driven to believe arguably in love...whatever the fuck that is. She's a walking contradiction, so we can never be sure that what you just said is the case." I argued and was sure Mike was now nodding his head, completely convinced by nothing but facts. "Also, same fuckin' difference. He is included in it. How it ended had everything to do with him, therefore she isn't over him and whatever happened to them."

"Well, you are in Chicago..."

"And what does that suggest, Michael?" The question was immediately shot back as my eyes raked along the sidewalk in search for Riley's small frame that she described being draped in a striped shirt and leather jacket at the top and blue crop jeans and white Converse at the bottom. There was a person dressed in everything but either of those layers, which left enough time for Mike to elaborate on his half ass piece of what I assumed was to become advice.

"It suggests that this is a grand ass opportunity for you to dig into her past. Bruh, you're attending a wedding with all her family and friends who I'm sure know more about this Quentin dude than you do. Her moms is supposed to be there, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well ask her." Mike said simply.

"Isn't this considered prying? You know, creeping behind your significant other's back for shit that has nothing to do with you?" Though this had everything to do with me.

I never thought I'd be that type of person in a relationship right now, acting as if I'm still in my early twenties and immature with how I go about communicating. It was all Riley's fault though, she was leaving me no choice but to get to the root of something that was becoming our problem as a unit. She was laying the framework for failure and leaving me to fix it.