Beware of Boys by Kelli London

Author:Kelli London [London, Kelli]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington Publishing Corp.
Published: 2013-12-12T05:00:00+00:00

“So what’s your story, Faizon?” Charly asked, handing him the shopping bag that held the sneakers and, now, the contents of her purse. “I know you’re from the islands, but your word choice is very New York. You also have an untouchable demeanor, like you’ve been seasoned in the streets, but that can’t be all. Not with you contributing to this project. So who’s the girl that made you want to do this?”

Faizon smiled, nodding. He walked toward the corner, back in the direction of the event. “Let’s try there. There’s a corner store. They should have some cotton balls to help you fit your too-big sneakers.” He laughed, shaking his head. “The things you women come up with. Who woulda thought about putting cotton balls in shoes to make ’em fit?” He reached out, taking Charly’s hand in his again. “Okay, mama. So you want my story now? You can’t wait for us to have our sit-down after the event?”

Charly shook her head no. “I heard you’re only here for the day, so I need to be sure I get your info. I have to hear it from you because your personality goes into the project. That’s the plan, anyway.”

He nodded in appreciation. “That’s cool, and it’s what I want. I guess I should start at the beginning, then bullet-point the main points. I was born in Kingston, Jamaica, to a single mom who moved us to Queens, New York, when I was two. After she scraped her pennies together to feed us while she put herself through school, we moved to Vegas, then to Hollywood. I was around eleven then, which is why I’m a little rough around the edges. I fought in the streets to protect myself in Queens—you’d be surprised how many preteen roughnecks you can encounter,” he said, laughing. “Then after we moved to here and to Cali, I had to literally fight my way home from school. My mother was a linguist and vocal coach who helped actors, newscasters, and other TV people lose their accents. So, of course, I can turn mine off and on.” He looked at her with pain-filled eyes. “Was is the key word, Charly. I lost my mom just a couple months ago to the Big C, as many now call it.”

Charly nodded, following him into the market. She didn’t know what to say because she knew there were no words to erase his pain. “It’s a good thing you’re doing, Faizon.”

Faizon switched gears, then laughed again. “You know, you’re not wrapped too tight, Charly. You could’ve gotten us robbed or something, pulling out your wallet on the street back there. You must really want to see me act up.”

Charly shook her head, looking at her watch. They needed to get back, but she needed the cotton to fit the too-big shoes, and she was thirsty. She exhaled, appreciating the air-conditioning in the store as she found a small cosmetic section and grabbed a bag of puffballs. “You must not know my background,” she said to him.

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