Page 16 of My Brother's Keeper
We were a few shots in as we laughed at the table. Mison wasn’t what I thought. His quietness spoke a lot for him over the years, but to sit and have a conversation with him, learning that his mother passed away and his father walked away from them, was so sad. It had almost made me feel guilty for feeling like having my father around in his state was becoming too much.
The moment between him and me was like a high school reunion. It was like seeing someone who had a major glow-up. The waiter brought another round of drinks. I watched as Mison didn’t even allow the waiter to set the drinks on the table before he took his glass and took the drink back. “Maybe you should slow down. You do have to drive home,” I mumbled.
He paused as he looked at me. “You’re right,” he muttered.
When the waiter walked off, he directed his attention back to me. He didn’t say anything, yet he gazed at me. “How did a nigga get so lucky?”
I smiled. “What do you mean?”
He reached out and grabbed my hand, softly stroking it. “I mean, how did I have the pleasure of having this moment with the girl all the niggas wanted in school? Why me?”
I begin blushing. “Everyone didn’t want me. They wanted the idea of being with a girl like me. It’s easy for people to perceive you one way, to think they know what things are like for a person, but have no idea,” I explained.
He cleared his throat. “I can relate.”
“But I don’t know why it was you. When I saw that race, it excited me. Then I saw you at the party, and whatever energy you were giving off, I drew to it. It’s like we have a connection without being connected.”
He laughed. “So, what you’re into energy, spirits, moons, and stars?”
I dropped my head. “No, I’m more of things happen for a reason. So do with that what you will.” I shrugged.
His eyes began to sit low as his lips disappeared between his teeth. I could see his chest move up and down quickly as if he were taking short breaths. His hands shook a little. “Shit, you’re making me nervous. Let’s get out of here and do some wild shit.”
A schoolgirl grin eased on my face, “Ok,” I squealed.
As we stood from the table, he reached into his pocket, leaving a few hundred dollars on the table. He picked up his helmet before we headed outside. When he walked over toward his bike, I froze. He turned to look at me, “Come on.”
I was reluctant to get on because he had been drinking. “I-I don’t think we should,” I said barely above a whisper.
He held his hand out to me. “Symph, I got you. I promise. A nigga will make sure you're safe. Trust me.”
I took a deep breath and took his hand. He helped me onto his bike before he placed the helmet over my head. Mison hopped on in front of me. “Hold on tight and do not let go,” he instructed me.
When he started his bike, I jumped from the loud muffler. He revved a few times, then took off. As we rode through the city, I felt on top of the world, from the wind caressing my skin to myarms squeezing him tightly around his waist. In this moment, I felt safer than I had in a long time. I gently lay my head on his back, squeezing him tighter as butterflies went through me. We had gone from city lights to damn near pitch black woods.
When he began to slow down, I raised my head. He stopped the bike and hit his kickstand. He got off the bike and took my helmet off. The night hugged us, with only the moon as light, whose shadow bounced off the lake. “What are we doing here?” I asked as I stepped closer toward the water and gazed at its silence.
“It’s a place I come when I want to let my thoughts be as loud as they want. Symphony, tonight was good for me, but,” he paused.
When I spun to face him, he was right there, only a pucker away. “I’m not perfect. Far from it, and if anything happens with us from here on out, you need to know that all I can do is try.”
The look in his eyes was different from earlier. It was as if coming here made him sad.Was he reflecting on something?My hand slowly reached out and stroked his face. “Nobody is perfect, not even me. I understand,” I whispered.
He gave me a tight-lipped smile. “Let’s get in.”
My eyes widened. “Get into what? Not that fucking water. Mison, it’s cold as hell.”
He removed his jacket and then his shirt. My eyes immediately lowered as I gazed at his flat, muscular stomach graced with tattoos.
Snap.
“I’m up here.” He smiled. “Come on, scary cat,” he taunted me before coming out of his pants and boxers, running toward the water, and jumping in.
I rushed toward the water’s edge. “Nigga you're crazy!” I shouted.
“Crazy for Ms. Harrington. Come on, let a nigga keep you warm.”
Fuck it!I took off my clothes and crept into the brick-cold water. My teeth chattered as my body inched its way in. That’s when Mison quickly grabbed me and pulled me, almost getting my fucking hair wet. “Wait, my hair!” I screamed.
