Puppy Dog Eyes
I went to the bathroom to clean myself up some more. I was feeling pretty scared right now, but happy. Confused, but satisfied.
I looked in the mirror. The water I just splashed on my face cooled me down some. My heart beat fast and I was afraid of these strange feelings...they were intense. The sex was intense. Everything about this whole scenario grew intense.
The feeling that I had running over me was something I hadn't really experienced before. Granted, I had never had sex in public and let alone in a fucking utility closet, but it wasn't just that. Michonne rubbed off on me, and in a way that seemed foreign altogether...in a good way.
"Mannnn. The model in the photos. What I wouldn't give to know her. That ass. Those big, soft, brown eyes. You see the way she was looking in those photos. It was like she was looking right at me," I overheard one guy say.
Another guy started to chime in. "And those lips buddy. Those are some lips I want to get to know. I would love to have those lips wrapped around my..."
I started to cough loudly like my, half a pack a day smoking, grandpa would. I didn't want to hear anymore of their discussion of Michonne. Especially about what people wanted her lips to do.
The guys stopped talking and I felt them look at me. I acted like I didn't see them and quickly dried my hands off with a napkin, tossing it in the trash before walking out of the bathroom. Every guy probably thought that way about her. Wondering what her lips could do, or how she would feel. I didn't care what they wondered.
You kind of do, though.
Michonne beat me to the main floor of the gallery. Through the tiny groups of crowds, I saw she was talking to Maggie, which was a sigh of relief for me. No perverts around her right now. I casually walked up to them, like I hadn't just fucked her in the supply closet fifteen minutes ago.
"I see you found Maggie," I said standing beside her, my hand resting on her lower back. She looked great. Her makeup was fixed. It was like we never did anything.
"Yes, well, she found me," she said looking up at me. When she smiled I wanted to drag her in the back again and do it all over. I stood close to her. I wasn't practically on top of her to draw attention, but close enough.
Maggie raised her eyebrows as a smirk crossed her lips. "Well, look at you two. The artist and his art," she said pointing between us. "You two seem like you're really close now." I just looked at Michonne and we both grinned. Real close.
"She's a cool girl," I said still staring at Michonne. Her smile. Jesus. I wanted to kiss her again.
"You're alright," Michonne jokingly said to me with a light laugh. She tapped my arm playfully.
"Just...alright?" I said looking her over. This time she turned away, embarrassed by my wandering eyes all over her body.
Did Maggie notice any of this?
"You're pretty cool, too," she added with a nodding approval. I finally looked away. Wasn't really sure how big my smile was right now, but one was there.
"So, Michonne...you have no modeling experience, but you have IT. You have star power, and I think you could go far in this modeling world," Maggie explained, resuming a conversation they must've had earlier.
Michonne hesitated before speaking, "Oh. I don't know Maggie. I just don't think it's the path for me. That whole world is crazy and I don't know if I want to enter it," Michonne said, shaking her head.
"You should reconsider, Michonne. I can see your face all over the place. I see you traveling and your name getting as big as the sun. Michonne!" She moved her arms in a dramatic flair. Michonne jumped a bit as she made the gesture. "It just sounds like something rich...luxurious, Doesn't it? Something everyone has to have," she said dreamily.
Maggie continued, "I don't like to toot my own horn, but I kind of have an eye for stuff like that."
And she wasn't lying. That's why she was able to get the position she had at the magazine. She didn't back down and knew her shit. It got her far in this competitive industry.
But Michonne still looked like she wasn't into the idea at all. She just smiled and nodded her head coyly. "I'll give it some consideration. It's the least I could do, but I don't really know right now," Michonne replied shrugging her shoulders.
Maggie nodded her head as she took out a her white business card, her gold engagement ring standing out against it. "It's okay. That is perfectly fine. When you feel the itch to break into this world, you give me a call. In the meantime, you should work out something with Rick here for headshots. Build you a great look-book for agencies. I'm serious, Michonne. Think about it," she said handing her the card. Maggie walked up to Michonne and gave her a hug.
"You are beautiful, my dear. A face I haven't seen in ages. Fresh...New...Exciting," she said to her as they hugged. She then turned to me and gave me a hug.
"I know you've heard it all night. I've even mentioned it a few times, but this is an outstanding show. I don't want to compare and contrast, but it's so much more raw and real compared to your last show," Maggie said to me.
She was right. My last show consisted of basic shots of New York. The customary black-and-white stock photos of The City's residents and places. Novice work, really, compared to this.
"Thanks Maggie. Feels good to finally be done," I said to her.
"Okay. Well, let me find my fiancé. I haven't seen him in a while now," she said as she looked around. When she spotted Glenn near Daryl and Michonne's friend Sasha, she headed over there.
I turned and faced Michonne. She looked as if she was in deep thought. "So, how many times have you been approached to start a world wind modeling career?" I said. She opened her tiny black purse and pulled out a little stack of cards.
"From when I was with Lori...til now..." She started counting the little stack and a shocked smile twinged her lips. "Twenty. Twenty people have suggested to me that I should start modeling," she said looking surprised. I don't think it hit her yet that she was so desired. I raised an eyebrow.
"You think you want to do something like that? Model?" I asked her. She looked at me with those big brown eyes and shook her head.
"I've been in this city all my life and never once thought about it. I've never even been approached by anybody before. I saw your little ad and thought, let me make this money real quick." She laughed at her comment. I liked her laugh. Silky and soft.
"This is all so weird. People want me. All night I've been hearing how much I should model for them, or this person wants to meet me, and I'm still thinking why? Why do you want me? Like, I'm really surprised by all of this," she said pushing her locs to one side.
All I could do was look at her for the millionth time tonight. It was easy to see why they wanted her. Hell, I was feeling the same way. "You are a beautiful woman, Michonne. Don't know how often you hear that. I knew when I shot all these photos that you were special," I said looking around, then back at her.
The sincerest of smiles lit her face. "Thanks, Rick," she said. She pulled out her phone and started checking notifications. "It's getting late. I still have so much work to do for my finals project," she said as she put her phone back in her purse.
"What time is it?" I asked her. I didn't want her to go. I wanted her to stay as long as she could.
"Almost 10:00. I should get Sasha so we can head out," she started to move but I stepped in front of her smiling.
"Which means it's still 7," I told her. She laughed and shook her head.
Any kind of gathering in New York could go on all night. And those same people will wake up, or stay up, and head to their early morning jobs or take their private jets to Los Angeles, London, Paris, or Tokyo. People in this town have boundless energy. Surprisingly, I've adapted to this lifestyle. It's scary how much I have.
"I know. I know. I hadn't planned on staying all night. It's Thursday and I got school tomorrow. I only came out because some 'photographer artist guy' kept insisting that I come to his show. Giving me puppy dog eyes and what not," she joked.
"Well. That 'artist guy' is happy that you came to support him," I grazed a finger across her cheek and she closed her eyes. Thoughts of that closet came running over my mind again. Everything about her ran over my mind.
"Just give me a little bit longer," I said looking in the direction of Sasha and Daryl. I nodded my head their way. "Your friend seems to like my friend. Let them talk more, then we can talk more. I'll sneak you a drink. Deal?" I said giving her that same puppy dog look. She ate it up, giggling.
"You are a mess," she said lightly hitting my arm. She held up one finger and spoke softly, a little mischief was twinkling in her eye. "Okay. One drink. A little chat. Then I have to go," she said closing the slight gap to me.
"Okay, then. One drink," I said reveling in my victory. We walked to the bar and she wanted a Sex on the Beach. I raised my eyebrow and she hit my arm, laughing. I got another rum and coke and we walked outside. There was a little sitting area where we could talk.
It was late April and windy tonight. The air was trying to switch over and the nights were still a little chilly. She rubbed her up and down her arms, a little shiver but her. I sat out drinks on the table and took my blazer off, draping it over her.
I picked up her drink, handing it to her. "Thank you," she said taking a sip of her drink. "For both kind, gestures."
"You're welcome," I said back. I was about to say something to her but my phone rung. My mom was calling. Earlier, I sent her a video of the evening and a couple of the less naked photos of Michonne. I had to answer my phone.
"Sorry. It's my mom," I said to her.
She nodded her head and drunk some more of her mixed drink. "Not a problem. Talk to you mom," she said pointing to the phone. I nodded and picked up.
"I'm so upset I missed the showwww," my mom said before I even said hello. She sounded like she was crying.
"Oh, ma. It's okay," I assured her. She started crying even more.
"I saw the video you sent me. It's a million people in there. All those people are there for my baby, and your momma ain't even there."
I felt bad. I didn't want her to beat herself up. "Oh, Momma. Don't cry." She started crying even louder. More hysterical than anything. "Ma, stop crying. I'll have more shows. You can come to the next one like you said earlier today," I suggested trying to calm her down. Michonne looked at me like she was worried. I shook my head to let her know everything was fine.
My mom started to calm down and talked about the show. "I'm just so proud of my baby. I'm gonna show this video to everyone at the Piggly Wiggly and the bingo hall. I sent them to your sister, Melissa. She liked them. We both love your model. Well, she's just beautiful. You tell that girl how beautiful she is, Rick. Is she there?" she asked at the end of her rambling. And I let her. She was proud of me.
"Yes, as a matter of fact I'm standing next to her now," I said to her, looking at Michonne who seemed confused.
"Well, put me on speakerphone. And what's her name?" She asked quickly in her nice southern tone.
"Michonne," I said enjoying how her name sounded coming from my mouth. I put my mom on speaker.
"Me-Chonne?" My mom's southern drawl took over. "Miss Michonne, you there?" my mom screamed. She always thought speakerphone meant she was supposed to yell louder, too. I laughed.
"She can hear you, Ma," I said urging Michonne to speak. She shook her head nervously and waved her hand to tell me no. I held the phone closer to her until she spoke.
She hesitated at first. "Hello, Mrs Grimes," Michonne said shrugging her shoulders and looking at me at a loss for words. I smirked at her.
"My dear, Miss Michonne. I wanted to thank you for doing this for my baby, Rick. I remember him calling me stressed a month ago, so you saved his life," she said to Michonne.
Michonne smiled and leaned closer to the phone. "It's not a problem, Mrs. Grimes. Your son helped me out as well," she explained to my mom.
"Well, I thank you, sweetie. Just wanted to tell you that. And you are so pretty. My boy is a sweet boy and he deserves all the best. I remember when he was a little yougin' and would run around the house in his underwear, taking pictures. We all thought he was weird, because he would do that and..."
"Okay, Ma. You're breaking up. Gotta go. Love you," I said before she embarrassed me some more. I hung up and Michonne was covering her mouth, laughing.
"That is weird," she kept laughing. I shook my head.
"Ignore my mom. She likes to inadvertently embarrass me," I said putting my phone away.
"Most mothers do. It's sweet she called you. She sounded happy," she said. I knew my mother was happy for me. I was happy about tonight.
"You're parents happy you're an artist? That that's what you want to do in life?" I asked her. She nodded her head and sipped her drink some more. A group of people walked past us, all talking g at once.
"Oh, yeah. They pay for my tuition. Pay my share of the rent. I want to be a bit more independent, so that's why I answered your ad. Wanted to help them out some. My dad is a screenwriter. My mom works at a theater in Manhattan. She makes costumes for the plays they produce there. You could say art runs in the family," Michonne explained. It must be nice to have everyone be so supportive. I didn't want to bog her down with my little story of tension with my dad.
But we talked more. About random things. About everything and I never wanted her drink to reach the bottom. I enjoyed the evening we were having. It felt like time was flying by.
Lori walked outside at some point and spotted the two of us. "There you two are. I've been looking all over for you," she said walking over to Michonne and I. There was a little gate that enclosed us off from her, and Lori never crossed it. She leaned against the gate some as she spoke.
"The crowd has been looking for you both. I got people who want to talk to you guys. Come back inside and let's mingle," she urged of us. I looked at Michonne and she shook her head. It was getting later and she couldn't stay.
"Michonne's got to go, but I'll be back soon," I told her. Lori started to fuss, but Michonne explained about school so she let it go.
"Okay, but you and I will grab lunch one day. We must talk more my dear." A bourgeois voice escaped her. I smirked. Lori sure had changed a lot from school. When she went back in, I looked at Michonne and she stood up, handing me my blazer.
"We'll go get Sasha, then I gotta go," she said to me. I nodded my head.
But I really didn't want her to.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
I held her hand as we stood outside the gallery. Daryl was still sweet talking Sasha a few feet away. Michonne swung her tiny purse, walking slowly away from me, then turned around.
"How much longer you staying here?" she asked me. She walked back up to me and smiled. I grabbed her hand.
"Lori says I shouldn't leave. I still got major guests to talk to. I'm glad you came to the show, Michonne. Really glad," I told her. I pulled her closer to me, kissing her cheek. She looked around to see if anyone would notice. "You really gotta go?" I asked. I hoped she would change her mind again.
"Yeah. I wasn't planning on staying this late," she reminded me. I pulled her even closer to me and put my arms around her.
"You afraid imma keep you up all night?" I said rubbing her back. She looked at me, the biggest smirk crossing her lips.
"Nope. I'm afraid imma keep you up all night." Michonne laughed, pointing to my chest and kissed me one last time. She tried to pull away, but I wouldn't let her. She was a gorgeous woman.
I was still tipsy and feeling pretty good. The spring night air was nice. She smelled good, and I didn't want our night to end. She leaned into me and kissed me again. Just a tiny peck. When she left my lips, a cool breeze settled the little fire she was starting in me once more. Michonne rubbed my lips to get the lipstick off.
"Imma call you tomorrow," I said looking down at her.
"I'll answer." She had that look. That come fuck me look. And I wanted to, but she had to go, and I had to stay. Neither one of us were moving now. We were glued to each other, swaying on the sidewalk.
"You better," I said grinning. She raked one of her hands through my hair before moving it to my cheek.
"I'll see you later," she told me finally separating from me. I had to let her go. "Bye, Rick," she said with a big smile.
I couldn't wipe my grin off. She walked away to meet up with Sasha and Daryl. Damn she looks good, I thought as she made her way near them. Her ass was perfect.
Daryl gave both girls a hug and they started to walk off, both of them close to one another, giggling and laughing."That girl, Sasha. Talked all night with her. Interesting girl. Funny as hell. Had me laughing," he said leaning against the wall, smoking a cigarette. I stood next to him. A few moments passed before he spoke again.
"You're show is a hit apparently." He blew out a puff of smoke. I looked around at the tall buildings in Manhattan. They seemed to change for the night, as well. More decadent. Lively.
"Yeahhhhh," I said as I watched both of them walk further down the block. I turned after a few seconds and looked at the gallery's front doors. Lori literally had it like an exclusive club in there. It wasn't my kind of crowd, but I had to pimp myself for the people who had money to spend. I needed it.
"Shits legit man. Heard only good things," he said patting my back. "Hell, you put that girl, Michonne, on the map. Everyone was talking about her," Daryl said putting one of his hands in his pocket.
"Felt that way, huh?" I said to him. I knew the show was going to be good, but I hadn't expected everyone to want a piece of Michonne. It was great for her, just great. But I knew how those people were. They would chew her up and spit her back out. I didn't want her to be taken advantage of by anybody. But like I said when I first met her: She had the face for it...the body. Maggie and Lori saw it, too.
"Let's get back inside and see what's happening," I said standing up straight to open the door. It was still early for New York. It was near midnight and I wanted to leave, but I couldn't. I sucked it up and put on my party face.
So I could enjoy the success of my evening.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
My fucking head was killing me. I laid across my bed with the same clothes on from last night: blazer, shirt, jeans, even my shoes. I don't even remember how I got to my studio. I looked up at the wall clock. It was almost 2pm. A steady stream of sunlight hit my eyes. I shielded them as I tried to sit up.
A long groan escaped my raspy throat. I had slept the morning away, which wasn't unusual...me having a hangover was... because I rarely drink. After Michonne left I ended up drinking a lot more. My nerves were shot.
When she was at the opening with me it was like I could breathe. I could walk around and not feel like I had all this pressure on me to impress the crowds of people. Michonne somehow made the night easier for me. Once she left that all went away. I picked up my phone and text Daryl.
Dude, how did I get home last night???
I tossed my phone on the bed and got up, taking my clothes off. After a quick shower, I threw on some jeans and a grey t-shirt and made me some coffee. The machine lulled me into a daze as it dripped down my only energy for the day.
Lori called while I was at my computer going through emails. She just wanted to give me a heads up about the orders I got from the show, and how much longer the photographs would be in the gallery if they hadn't sold. She was in a hurry so we didn't talk much. Don't know if that's a good or bad thing now. I pretty much avoided her last night. After I did what I did with Michonne, I didn't want to give off any vibes to Lori. Women could sense shit like that. Maybe that's why she sounded rushed with me? Who knows?
I hit the normal string of my social media accounts to see if there was any buzz about the show. There was a lot. Felt good knowing that people enjoyed themselves.
A lot of hype centered around Michonne, too. I ran across a couple of pics of us tagged together. It was when we went back in looking for Sasha and Daryl, which caused us to be there for another thirty minutes.
We looked pretty good. I was drunk, with a stupid grin on my face, and she was laughing in another direction, or looking straight on. In one we were looking at each other. Sasha and Daryl took some photos with us. Lori, Glenn, and Maggie, as well. All nice photos. In every shot she stole the show. After awhile I decided to give Michonne a call. The phone rung a couple of times before she picked up.
"Rick. How you doing today?" she asked me. I could hear small chatter in the background.
"I'm fine, Michonne. Got a little hangover. How are you doing?" I asked her rubbing my forehead with my fingertips.
"I bet you do. You were slinging drinks back all night. Surprised you're alive," she told me. "But I'm good. On the bus, headed to the rec center for my art class. What you been up to today?" she asked me.
"Well, if I'm going to be honest, I just woke up not too long ago. I'm trying to get my life together now." I drunk more coffee. My head was starting to feel a little better, but not by much.
"Oh okay. Must be nice to get to sleep in," she said. I grinned.
"Would be nice if you got to sleep in with me," I said to her. She giggled. You still smooth, Grimes.
"Mmhmm," she said sweetly. "It would," Michonne added. The smile never left my face, but I changed the subject.
"So what rec center do you teach at?" I asked her.
"St. Johns. I go there every Friday. It's about ten kids that come there after school and I teach them to paint...how to express themselves with their words," she explained.
"That's cool. How long have you been working down there?"
"Oh, since high school, but I've gone there since I was a kid. One of the ladies back then taught me a lot, and so now I'm kind of following in her footsteps," she explained to me.
She seemed like she was a natural. The kids had to love her. I wondered what else she was like. I wanted to hang out with her today, I decided.
"Got any plans after that?" I followed. Maybe she wouldn't mind seeing me later?
"Nope. Might see if Sasha wants to do something. Why? You want to see me?" she asked. I liked her little flirty tone.
"Yeah. Wouldn't mind that," I admitted, sitting back in my chair. I stared at the collage of pictures from my social media accounts. I really wanted to see her.
"Cool," she said. "This bus is a little noisy. You mind if I call you a little later?" she wondered. I didn't mind.
"Nope. I'll answer," I said repeating what she told me last night.
"You better," she said back. She made me smile. It was the easiest thing I ever did around her. "Bye, Rick," she added and hung up.
I stood up, put on some shoes and grabbed my Yankees baseball cap. My dad is a Braves fan. He hates this hat. My mom made me swear never to bring it around the house. She said it was causing bad vibes. Although, I'm pretty sure it wasn't the hat doing it.
I wished me and my dad were closer. I wished whatever hangups he had about my choice of profession would be let go. I mean, we talked. We could sit in the same room with one another, but there was always this tension. I got up and walked out my studio, locking it up, and headed down the stairs.
I didn't want to waste the rest of the day in the house thinking about my dad.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"So, class. When you write you want to just write whatever comes to mind. It doesn't have to mean anything or it can mean everything. The meaning is from what you feel," I overheard her say when I stepped into the rec room. I didn't walk in all the way, just leaned against the door.
Today, she wore an oversized Brooklyn dodgers jersey and some leggings. She walked around slowly as she spoke then turned around. When she saw me she smiled and waved, but gave her attention back to the kids.
"Guys, I want you to think about the best day you ever had in your life and jot that down," she said to them. "I'll give you fifteen minutes. Annnnnddd...go." The kids of no more than ten to thirteen started to look in the sky and ponder their best day. Michonne walked over to me, smiling the entire time. How did she make any outfit look so great?
"What are you doing here?" she asked completely surprised. She crossed her arms and stood right in front of me.
"Took a long walk. Ended up over this way," I told her. I pointed towards the classroom. "You're a natural. The kids listen to you and you had their attention the entire time," I said to her. She had mine, too.
"Yeah, they're like my babies," she said to me looking at them work. They all sat at these little tables across from one another. Some of them writing furiously. Others taking their time. One guy finished early and started looking at his cell phone. Michonne stepped closer to me.
"Are you stalking me, Grimes?" she whispered. I kind of started sweating.
You kind of been acting creepy, fool. And now she noticed. I didn't want her to think I was some creepy photographer that would break into her house and take photos of her.
"Nah. No. Nah, I'm not. I just wanted to...well, I thought that," I said quietly looking at the ground, fumbling my words around like I just got caught stealing. But she laughed and lightly hit my arm.
"You're so easy to fuck with," she said softly. I must've looked like a tomato...red as shit. I could feel my skin getting hotter, although the window AC was on full blast.
"When is your class over?" I wondered. Maybe she wanted to grab something to eat? I haven't had anything all day. I hadn't really ate that much these past few weeks, except for last night at the opening.
One of her kid's raised his hand and called her last name. "Ms. Turner. Can you come here real quick?" the young guy asked. She smiled and nodded her head, then looked back at me.
"Give me thirty minutes," she said responding to my question. "Excuse me for a second...What's going on, Otto?" she asked the youth, and walked in that direction. I watched her read what he wrote and then she gave him a high five. The teen seemed happy...proud of himself. Was there anything she was bad at?
I stepped outside for a moment and looked at all of the paintings displayed in the hallway. A lot of the kids handiwork peppered the walls, and some from Michonne it looked like. She signed her name at the bottom like a true artist. I looked at the line of paintings for a while, then I felt my phone vibrate. Daryl had text me back.
I got u to your place. U were wasted man. Didn't want anyone to take advantage of u...lol...glad to see ur not dead bro.
I smirked as I slid down the wall to sit down. Suddenly, I remembered Daryl yelling as he climbed several flights of stairs with me in tow. I decided to call him while I waited for her.
"Hey, Daryl," I said when he picked up. I could hear him strumming notes on his bass. It wasn't hooked up to an amp, and he would hit the same lick over and over again. "Thanks for looking out man. I think I went a little overboard." I adjusted my Yankees hat and leaned against the wall.
"Ha, a little. You were floored. Dude, Lori demanded that I get your ass home. I had to call someone to come get us back to your place... Oh, yeah. That reminds me. Jesus wants 20 bucks for gas," he quickly added.
Jesus, whose real name was Paul, was the lead singer of their band, Cherokee Rose. He...well...he looked like a Jesus. You know, our Lord and Savior. Long brown hair. Brown goatee. He wore these white dramatic, flowy shirts at nearly every performance. The name stuck, and it worked. I shot a cover story for them for a local magazine about two years ago. That's how I met Daryl.
"Tell him as soon as I get paid, he'll get paid. But he is in line after my mom, the light bill, the water bill, and my high ass rent for my little apartment. But I got him," I quipped. Those were facts. Daryl laughed.
"Yeah, I'll let him know, man. What you up to? We're having a little jam session later. You can come to the studio if you want. I invited that girl from the opening last night. The one with the curly hair. Sasha. Called her last night and we talked some. Coolest girl, man," he said going on about her. It was the first girl I ever heard him fixate on.
"I might swing through. It's funny you're talking about Sasha. I'm with Michonne right now," I said standing up and peeking in the classroom. The students were taking turns reading what they wrote out loud. Whenever someone finished she would do a little dance and they would join in. She looked like she was the most fun person to be around. She really made their day, I bet.
"Interesting, my friend. Interesting. We will have to talk more about this later," he said strumming his bass in deep ominous tones.
I laughed. "Nothing to talk about. We're just hanging out," I said to him. In my defense, we were hopefully about to hang out. And not fuck. Well, at least that's my plan.
He struck another chord on his bass. "Sure, buddy, sure. But I'll see you later. If you can't make the studio I'll catch you around," he said to me.
I nodded my head as I responded. "Alright man, I'll see you later," I said to him and hung up the phone. I leaned against the wall and went through a few of my emails. I literally did everything through my personal email for all business purposes. I could spend hours on my phone.
Time flew by because the kids started to rush past me. I looked like a deer in headlights. Michonne walked out the class about five minutes later. "I just text you. I thought you left," she said when I turned to her.
"Nope. I'm still here. You free now? Are you hungry?" I asked her. She nodded her head.
"I could eat. Let me grab my bag and we can head out. I'm starving," she said. When she came back out she had on her backpack. It was an army fatigue print, and little buttons were attached all over it. Some looked like they were hand painted.
"Okay, we can head out," she said walking back up to me. I knew I was smiling hard.
My day officially started... now.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"Ms. Turner. Come show us your skills," a group of kids yelled as we walked out of the rec center. Michonne had the biggest smile on her face as they waved her over to them. She took her backpack off and handed it to me. Her hands were on her hips as she strutted over there, full of confidence.
"Okay y'all. Imma show y'all how we used to do it on my block," she told them, proudly swinging her hips. Some of the girls were playing double dutch and wanted Michonne to join in. Michonne started laughing as they chanted a rhyme. She rocked back and forth before she jumped into the rope.
...All in together girls,
How you like the weather girls,
January, February, March, April, May...
As I watched her jump in on the month of December, that's her birthday month, remember that, she started to do various tricks. I was impressed. I don't think I could even coordinate myself to jump right with a single jump rope. I wasn't too coordinated in the first place. When one of the girls who jumped in after her stepped on the rope, Michonne held her hands up.
"Whew. That's enough you guys. I'm tired," she said putting her hands on her hips trying to catch her breath. She started to walk off and the girls all chimed in, begging her to jump one more time. They convinced Michonne and she did it again, then she took a turn at swinging the rope for the other girls. Michonne looked like she was having the time of her life, and seemed like she always spent her time having fun. Worry or stress never crossed her face.
"Okay. This time I'm for real," she told them, giving each girl a hug. They all wished she could stay longer. An exhausted smile stretched her face as she approached me.
"Is there anything you're not good at?" I said to her when she reached for her backpack. I shook my head to let her know I'll carry it for her. She grinned and stepped closer to me.
She huffed some, still trying to catch her breath. "Plenty of things. While I'm trying to be cute hanging with these thirteen year olds, my ass going to be sore as hell in the morning," she realized, grabbing her lower back.
"You're only 20. You shouldn't have a bad back. But here let me help you," I said, massaging her where her hand once was. The girls started to oooo and ahhhh.
"Is that your boyfriend?" One of the girls shouted. The other girls joined in all saying the same thing. Michonne looked at me, then at her students.
"He's a good friend," she explained to them. They all curled their lips up at her in disbelief. It was the same look on all of their faces. I had to admit, they were funny, and made me crack a smile.
Michonne chuckled and waved goodbye. "I'll see you guys next week," she said.
"Bye Ms. Turner... bye Ms. Turners friend ," the girls said in unison, sing-song like. We started walking down the sidewalk, laughing.
"Got a place you like to eat at around here?" I asked her. Michonne nodded her head and told me about a diner not too far from us. It was nice out today. A good day for walking around.
"Why'd you move to New York?" she asked me when we got closer to the diner. I thought for a moment and remembered wanting to leave King's County so much. It was all I ever thought about.
"Just wanted to get away," I ended up telling her.
"Bad past?" she followed. I shook my head and thought some. I didn't have a bad upbringing. Both of my parents were very loving. My dad just didn't like my career choice, which I agree, I have struggled with financially. I could hear my dad now.
...So, you're goin' to move to a big ass city, with no money?To get a job where you'll make no money?That's brilliant, son. You can paint. Hell, you can take a nice picture. But you'll never make any money to support yourself...
"Not really. Me and my dad bumped heads. He was a cop. Wanted me to be a cop. I chose a career miles in the opposite direction," I said pointing in front of me. "I had this idea that New York would be the answer. It's where all artists go. That or L.A., so all through high school that's what I thought about. Moving to New York. Making it big. I'm still trying to get there," I said, kind of defeated. Just slightly.
It was hard seeing all of my friends successful in their careers. Lori, Glenn, Maggie, even Daryl, all of them were making big moves. The biggest thing I've done to date was the photoshoot with Michonne. The most buzz I've ever had was because of her.
"You're work is there, Rick," she said looking at me as we slowly walked up the block. I smiled and she noticed the small lack of confidence I had. She touched my arm.
"Deadass. Your photos are crazy good. The paintings on the wall at your place, beautiful. I really want one of them. You're talent is there. You just need others to find it now. And they will," she assured me.
Honest to God she made me feel good. "Thanks, Michonne. That means a lot," was the only thing I could manage to say. I stuck my hands in my pocket and walked beside her, enjoying our little convo about ourselves.
Enjoying her.