Page 10 of Waiting for Friday Night

“I’m serious,” she said. “I wouldn’t give you the time of day.”

He lifted a shoulder in a nonchalant shrug. “Whatever you say. That’s cool.”

Her eyes narrowed. Did he think she was joking? “You’re not my type.”

“And you’re not mine.”

She uncrossed her arms and put her hands on her hips. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means the same thing as what you said,” he replied easily. “You aren’t my type and I’m not yours. So, neither one of us will be showing the other anything.”

Halle narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

“Yes, we are. The exact same page.” He nodded his head as if the words were official.

“Hey, Halle!” Imani’s voice came through the crowd.

Halle glanced over her shoulder at her friend. Imani and Tracey had both arrived and were heading their way. Imani went straight to the end of the bar, where her fiancé, Cyril, had finished helping a patron. She leaned over and kissed him. Tracey stood next to Halle. Her body stiff, her arms crossed over her chest and her lips pressed together.

Brian frowned at Tracey. “Why are you scowling?”

Tracey narrowed her eyes and flipped her long, knotless box braids over her shoulder. She wore a yellow polo shirt with her bed-and-breakfast’s name, Fresh Place Inn, on the breast and dark jeans hugged her curvy hips. “There you go, minding my business again,” she said pursing her lips.

Brian shook his head and held up a hand. “You know what? Never mind. What’s up, Imani?”

Imani smiled at Brian. “Hey, Brian, Coach.”

Quinton nodded before giving Halle a quick glance and turning back to face the bar. Halle had the urge to tap his shoulder and finish their conversation, but for what? His saying she wasn’t his type shouldn’t bother her anyway. He wasn’t her type either. But the words burrowed in her head like a worm. She wasn’t conceited by any means, but she also had enough self-esteem to know there was nothing wrong with her. He’d be lucky to consider her his type.

“I didn’t know you all were coming tonight,” Cyril said, joining Imani back on their end.

“It was a last-minute thing,” Imani replied. “We’re going to the table over in the corner. Will you bring something over?”

“You know I will.” Cyril smiled at her.

Pushing aside the need to say one more thing to Quinton, Halle followed her friends to the table Imani mentioned. After they were settled, Imani eyed Halle.

“What’s going on with you and Coach Q?”

Halle scoffed and shifted in the seat. “Not a damn thing. Why?”

“Because I could have sworn I saw sparks flying between you two,” Imani said.

Tracey nodded; some of the stiffness had left her posture as she eyed Imani curiously. “I mean, she’s not lying.”

“Please. I was just making sure he understood that he’ll never get a chance with me. I only need him to help make Shania a starter.”

“Why would you worry about him thinking he has a chance?” Tracey asked.

She held up a hand, palm out toward her friend. “I’m not worried. I just want him to understand.”

Imani eyed her curiously. “That’s all?”

“What else would it be? You know I’m only interested in Gregory.”

“Before you put all your hopes in Gregory, you can consider other options.”

Halle firmly shook her head. “Not that option. He’s got too many strikes against him. One being he’s Shania’s coach. I’ve seen too much messiness in school when a teacher and a student’s parent get involved. No way.”

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