Dirty Jersey by Phillip Thomas Duck

Author:Phillip Thomas Duck
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kimani Press
Published: 2008-11-08T05:00:00+00:00

“Stop at the 7-Eleven.”

Ricky stopped the car but didn’t pull in. “For what, Kay?”

“So you can run inside and get me a Slurpee.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“You don’t want to get your baby a Slurpee?”

“I want to get somewhere alone with my baby.”

I leaned over and kissed him with all the bottled-up passion inside me. I loved him and I hated him. He had me so twisted up. I was an emotional pretzel thanks to this boy.

When I pulled back from the kiss, Ricky said, “What flavor?”

“Surprise me.”

He pulled into the lot and jumped out before his car stopped moving. He wanted my goodies in the worst way. He would do just about anything to get at me. I waited until he was safely inside before I picked up his cell phone and scrolled through his contacts list. I found Monique’s number with little trouble and saved it into my phone. There was also another number with Monique’s name attached to it. In the contacts it was named MoniquesCuz. I saved that one as well. Then I checked for Ricky’s text messages.

He had none.

He must have deleted them as soon as they came through.

Just another reason I had to leave this situation alone.

But that was going to be difficult. Ricky was my drug.

I put the phone back in place when I noticed Ricky inside the 7-Eleven at the counter. He paid and headed back outside, one hand behind his back as he moved toward the car. He walked toward me with the biggest smile on his face. I wished I could return the smile but I couldn’t. My insides were churning.

He slid in the driver’s side, closed the door.

I forced a stricken look, said, “My mother just called me. She wants me home. Now.”

The smile left Ricky’s face. “Thought she was working. How she find out you were out?”

“Don’t know. Maybe my brother told. He is a hater.”

Ricky said, “Kick his lil’ narrow…” but let the thought drift.

He was disappointed and angry. I wondered which emotion would eventually dominate. One had to.

I reached over and touched his leg. “Some other time, baby.”

He put my Slurpee in a cup holder, dropped a single rose on the console between us. The rose was what he’d had behind his back.

Any other time I would have been excited.

Other things were on my mind then.

Monique, for the most part.

But I didn’t lose sight of one fact as I reached over and picked up my Slurpee cup: that was the second time that night Ricky hadn’t handed me my drink.

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