Author's Note- Sorry for the wait ya'll. I didn't mean it. I got busy. Thank you for the reviews. Ya'll should see how hyped I get when I see a review in my inbox. :) Here's Riley and Cindy for you.
Disclaimer- I do not own The Boondocks
"I couldn't believe dat shit, Cindy." Riley said shaking his head. He and Cindy were sitting in the back corner of the small coffee shop they often met up at. Riley didn't really care for it. The tables were too close together, it was too bright in here and the music...what the fuck? Was that that Lady Gaga bitch? And it didn't help that Riley's coffee tasted like ass even though he dumped enough sugar in it to send anybody into a diabetic coma. Not that Riley knew what ass tasted like...that would be gay. He was just saying.
"That shit got too gay, too fast. A nigga had to put a pause to dat shit and bounce." Riley was speaking of the class he'd practically ran out of about an hour or so earlier when he'd learned that the day's lesson would be about studying the human form by sketching a nude model. Which had been fine with Riley. Drawing naked bitches? Shit, Riley would do that all day if he could. But, of course, that had been before Professor Allen introduced James. James the nude male model. Riley shuddered. The whole thing was just so. Fucking. Gay.
Cindy rolled her eyes as she fiddled with her digital camera. This was why she never introduced Riley to her friend Andre. Riley would only offend the fabulously flamboyant man. "Riley, you think everything is gay. So what if you had to draw some naked dude?"
Riley looked bewildered. "So what? So wh- Cindy this nigga was buck ass naked; chest out, dick hangin'. No homo," Riley quickly added. "I mean, what the fuck I look like drawin' some nigga's dick?"
Cindy sighed and closed her eyes. Oh, this boy was giving her a headache. "I don't know, like a professional? Riley, you gotta grow up." Cindy had been telling the boy the same thing for the longest. Why the hell wasn't he listening?
Riley scoffed loudly and sat back in his chair, crossing his arms with his bottom lip sticking out. It was always the same damn thing from Cindy. He was getting tired of hearing it. "Whatever. Reezy ain't around for that shit."
Cindy shook her head and went back to her camera. If Riley didn't care, shit, she didn't either.
The two sat there not saying anything to each other after that. Riley pulled out his cell phone to play Angry Birds and Cindy put her camera away, tucking it into her purse and sucking on the straw of her iced cappuccino. It wasn't until Riley lost his game that he spoke. "Yo, what you doin' tonight?"
"Tonight?" Cindy looked towards the ceiling and scrunched up her nose as she thought about it. If it ever got out that Riley loved to see her do that cute shit, he'd have to fuck a nigga up. Shit, he had a reputation to uphold. The blonde suddenly snapped her gold ring covered fingers as she remembered. "Oh yeah, I've already got plans."
"Plans?", Riley questioned. It was a Monday. Who really made plans for a Monday? "Okay, then cancel them shits. Come do somethin' wit me."
"Fool, is you deaf? I told yo' ass I was doin' somethin'. I'ma be busy tonight."
Riley sucked his teeth. It was real funny how every time Riley wanted Cindy to 'do something' with him, her ass suddenly had plans. "Okay, fine. You got plans. Plans wit' who?"
Cindy picked off a chunk of her blueberry muffin and tossed it in the general direction of Riley's head. It sailed past his braided head and hit the brown painted wall. "Mind yo' business, aiight? Don't worry about it."
'Don't worry about it?' Man, fuck that bullshit. "Why you won't tell me? What, you got a date or somethin'?," Riley asked. He didn't notice the jealousy that had seeped into his tone, but Cindy did. And it irritated the hell out of her.
Rolling her neck just as well, if not better, than some chickenhead from Compton, Cindy replied, "And what's it to you, Riley? If yo' ass must know, yes, I am going on a date tonight. With Jamal." Cindy then sat back in her chair, an eyebrow raised and a smug look coating her face.
Riley stared at Cindy. He knew that she knew that that would get him tight. Jamal? Really? Cindy would rather hang with that buster ass nigga than him? Tragic. "I didn't even know you was still talkin' to dat nigga."
Cindy shrugged. Jamal was a very tall, very dark and very handsome basketball player that Riley had introduced Cindy to at a frat party that he dragged her to about a month earlier. He was only doing it to be polite. Had he known that the nigga would ask Cindy out right after that they wouldn't even be having this conversation. "He's cool. I like him."
Riley grumbled. Cindy wasn't supposed to be going out on dates with niggas like Jamal. She was supposed to be doing that corny shit with him. "Man, whatever."
"Riley, what's the problem? I know this ain't just about me goin' out wit Jamal."
Rolling his eyes, Riley looked across the coffee shop and out of the window. He didn't look at Cindy when he said, "I just don't understan' why you won't give a nigga a second chance. I also don't understan' why you insist on dealin' with all these other buster ass niggas when I'm starin' you right in yo' face."
Cindy pursed her lips and fiddled with the black straw that came with her iced cappuccino. "Well I don't remember any other 'buster ass niggas' doin' me dirty." She shot a glare at Riley then, her blue eyes icy, and said accusingly, "Unlike some mothafuckas I know."
"Why I gotta be all that, Cindy? Plus that shit happened way back in high school; I was fifteen. When is yo' ass gon' get over it?"
"When I get over it!", Cindy snapped. She glanced down at Riley's cell phone sitting in the middle of the table between them. Why did she even call his ass? "Excuse me if I don't take kindly to niggas cheatin' on me with nasty hoes."
Riley lifted his hands, signaling Cindy to stop. "Hol' up, hol' up. Denise wasn't no ho. She was a nice girl."
Cindy smiled sarcastically. "Oh, okay, so it's fine to cheat as long as you do it with a nice girl?"
Riley blinked his light brown eyes. "I didn't say th-"
But he didn't get the chance to finish because the next thing Riley knew, Cindy had her purse hanging from her arm, her jacket on and was standing up, obviously ready to go. Whether Riley wanted her to or not. "Where the hell is you goin'?"
"I'm leavin'." Cindy picked up her half full cup of cappuccino and pushed in her chair. It squeaked loudly as it slid over the tiled floor, gaining looks from the other five customers in the coffee shop. Riley shot them all a menacing glare. Every single one of them went back to their business.
"Leavin'? What da fuck for? I thought we was talkin'?"
Cindy sighed and slipped on her sunglasses. Riley missed the sight of her blue eyes. "Not no more." She took three steps before she stopped and turned back around. "Oh, and don't call me later, Riley." Riley had a habit of calling Cindy when he knew she was out with a guy. He would call frequently and incessantly knowing that it would make her mad and that she would eventually pick up. Then, when she did finally pick up, one time after fifty two calls and thirty two text messages, Riley would feign ignorance, claiming that no, he hadn't been blowing her cell up. After all, why would he do that? He probably pocket dialed her. A mistake, really. "I'm not playin'. I'm lettin' you know right now, I ain't gon' pick up."
"Not even if a nigga was 'bout to die?"
"Nope." With that, Cindy gave Riley the deuces, pivoted on her heel and walked out of the coffee shop, her long blonde hair swinging with her movements.
"Crazy heifer. I can't believe I love her ass."
Riley sat at the small table until he realized how gay and lonely he looked sitting there staring at a half empty cup of shitty overpriced coffee. It wasn't a good look. He stood up from his seat, not bothering to push in the chair or throw out his cup. Riley had just stepped out of the coffee shop when his cell phone began to vibrate in his back pocket. Riley quickly reached for it because it could have been important. Not because it could have been Cindy.
"Sherise?"
Oh, yeah. That bitch from the other night, with the fat ass. Riley got a kool-aid grin on his face as he remembered the night they had after meeting. Riley had thought it would be a one time thing, but Sherise apparently had other plans. "Mhmm, that bitch likes the dick", Riley said to himself. He pressed the green button on his cell phone and brought it up to his ear, moving out of the way of a woman with braids and a crying baby pushing a stroller.
"Wassup, Ma?"
Riley wasn't looking for anything serious with Sherise. He barely knew her ass, after all. He really only wanted Cindy, but she wasn't giving him the time of day; she didn't want him. At least not yet. So, as Sherise spoke into his ear in what she probably thought was a seductive and sexy voice about the possibility of maybe seeing each other again, Riley decided that while he waited for Cindy to come to her senses and get with a nigga, that he'd keep himself busy with Sherise. It wasn't a great plan, but it would work for the time being.
"Goodnight, Tracy."
"'Night, Jazmine." Jazmine gave a smile to the petite pixie cut wearing receptionist. Jazmine sighed in relief when she stepped out of the building where she taught ballet. The day had unreasonably long. The five, six, and seven year olds in her afternoon class were rowdier that ever. Jazmine made a mental note to ask the parents to make sure that they didn't give the kids any sugar before they dumped them on her as she unlocked her car. Jazmine briefly wondered if the parents did it on purpose.
She tossed her red duffel bag, filled with extra clothes and her worn out ballet shoes, into the backseat and plopped down into the driver's seat unlike the graceful dancer she was. Jazmine went to start the car but stopped short, her hand and the key about an inch away from the ignition, when she realized that she didn't really want to go home. And when Jazmine said that she didn't want to go home what she really meant was that she didn't really want to see Caesar. Jazmine dropped her keys in the cup holder beside her and sighed, closing her eyes and dropping her head against the head rest completely dismissing the idea that she might mess up the bun that took her fifteen minutes to do that morning.
Caesar had been in rare form all day. He was acting like the caring, sweet, attentive, romantic fiancé that both he and Jazmine knew he wasn't. At least not anymore. Jazmine had woken up to a tray of all of her breakfast favorites on the bedside table, a note taped to the edge. In Caesar's chicken scratch handwriting, he bid her a good day, told her that he loved her and that he'd see her later that night. Caesar had also decided to send flowers to her workplace accompanied by another card reading "I love you." They were hydrangeas; pretty, but Jazmine liked lilies best. She wasn't surprised that Caesar didn't know that after all this time. Jazmine ended up giving the bouquet to Tracy to put next to the phone in a glass vase after she 'oohed' and 'ahhed' over the things. Jazmine knew that these seemingly nice acts were just Caesar's way of trying to make her forget about all the bad things between them. Jazmine wished that he would stop trying.
Jazmine reached a hand up to the radio and flicked it on. It was one of those oldies but goodies stations with music before her time. But Jazmine liked it. As she sat in her car in the near empty parking lot listening to Etta James sing about crashing the wedding of the love of her life to watch him get married to another woman, Jazmine started getting melancholy. To write a song like that, you had to somehow go through it. Jazmine wondered how it would feel if that were her. She shook her head, changing the station. Her eyes were getting watery and a lump formed in her throat.
She continued going through stations, sporadically stopping on one only to change it again. Jazmine finally cut off the radio with a quick flick of the wrist. She glanced up at the sky through the windshield. Hues of dark purple, orange, and pink permeated the sky thanks to the sun sinking below the horizon. Jazmine sighed once more. She wanted to call someone, anyone, to talk about something, anything. Cindy had a date with some guy, and her parents...Jazmine loved them but she just wasn't in the mood. Jazmine tapped her fingers against the steering wheel. How boring. "You're bored because you're being boring.", she said out loud to herself. Jazmine then cracked a smile. She couldn't count the number of times Huey had said that to her during the span of their friendship and, later, relationship. Jazmine glanced at her phone sitting under her keys in the cup holder. A couple of days had passed since he'd called her and since she hung up the phone that night, she would find herself thinking of him. She wondered what he was doing at that moment. Jazmine picked up her phone. It felt uncharacteristically heavy in her hands. Biting the corner of her lip nervously, Jazmine went to her contacts and scrolled down to the number. She paused for just one short moment before pressing down on the green call button, her heart beating erratically. She brought the phone up to her ear and waited, the phone ringing loudly in her ear.
Ya'll know who Jaz called. Expect that lovely conversation next chapter. I hope you liked it. Drop me a review, please. :) Peace.
