“Age ain’t nothin but a number”
The hallway is packed as students pour toward the cafeteria for lunch.
Lockers slam. People yell across the hall.
Annie is walking with her backpack hanging from one shoulder when suddenly an arm wraps around her shoulders.
Annie immediately rolls her eyes.
Kevion busts out laughing. “Don’t be like that.”
Annie stops walking and looks at him.
Kevion grins. “I ain’t have shit to do with that.”
“You did! You hooked me up with him.”
“I ain’t know he was gon’ do no shit like that.”
He holds his hand up. “I told him how fucked up he was.”
Annie tries not to smile.
He’s one of those people who’s impossible to stay mad at.
They’ve been cool for years.
He jokes too much. Talks too much.
And somehow always manages to get her laughing.
Just then they walk past Ryan.
He’s standing with his friends.
The second he sees Kevion’s arm around Annie’s shoulders, his face hardens.
Annie notices. Then Kevion notices.
The two look at each other.
And immediately start laughing.
“Oh my God,” Annie says. “He mad as hell.”
Kevion is cracking up. “He over there lookin’ like he wanna fight and shit.”
Annie shakes her head. “Don’t hook me up with nobody else.”
Kevion looks offended. “Why? You don’t trust my judgment now?”
Annie sucks her teeth. “Hell nah.”
Kevion laughs so hard he bends over.
“Damn. It ain’t even gotta be like that.”
“It is exactly like that.”
Still laughing, he gives her shoulders one last squeeze before letting her go.
They make it into the cafeteria and split up.
The lunchroom is loud as always.
Chairs scrape against the floor.
Girls are screaming over something.
The smell of spicy chicken sandwiches and fries fills the air.
Annie spots her friends and sits down.
Immediately, Devin smirks. “Awww.”
Annie already knows. “What?”
Annie almost chokes. “Ew. No.”
Devin laughs. “You should’ve been with his fine ass instead.”
Annie shakes her head. “No.”
Ebony laughs. “You just be letting all the fine ones get away.”
Rhonda suddenly sits up. “Oh!”
“Speaking of Annie letting fine niggas get away…”
“Yes.”Rhonda grins. “We went to the Landing Saturday.”
The girls immediately lean in.
“And this fine ass nigga—”
Annie covers her face. “Rhonda.”
She looks around the table dramatically.
“I mean this nigga was way more than fine.”
Now she has everybody’s attention.
“He had this green and white Rocawear polo on, baggy jean shorts, fresh white Forces, a Boston fitted, diamond earrings…”
She starts counting on her fingers.
“A Rolex.” “A chain.” “Golds.”
She emphasizes the last part.
Rhonda isn’t done. “He pulled out this huge wad of cash out his wallet like it wasn’t nothing.”
Devin’s eyes are huge. “Oh my God.”
Rhonda points at Annie. “He was staring at her the whole damn time.”
Annie hides her face again.
“He bought our popcorn at Topsy’s.”
“And gave us a ride back out south.”
“What?!” Devin says louder.
Rhonda pauses for effect. “He gave Annie a hundred-dollar bill.”
“A hundred dollars?!” Devin practically screams.
Annie starts laughing. “Yes.”
Rhonda grins. “And his number was on the back.”
The entire table erupts. “WHAT?!”
Devin is losing her mind. “Annie! Have you called him?!”
Annie shakes her head. “No.”
The whole table goes quiet.
Rhonda blinks. “Why not?”
Annie shrugs. “Cause I’m nervous.”
Devin falls back dramatically. “Yo scary ass.”
Rhonda looks genuinely confused.
“If you don’t call him, it’s gonna be real awkward when you go to work.”
Ebony’s head snaps toward Annie. “Say what?”
Ebony’s mouth falls open. “Girl.”
Everybody starts laughing.
Rhonda looks at her. “What you nervous for?”
Annie sighs. “Cause he’s older for one.”
“And I ain’t never had an older man.”
“So? Age ain’t nothing but a number.”
“I ain’t never had a nigga that fine.”
The girls bust out laughing.
She covers her face. “What if I fumble my words? What if my mind goes blank? What if I don’t know what to say?”
Devin shakes her head. “Annie.”
“Get out your head. He obviously interested.”
“He bought y’all popcorn.”
“He gave you a hundred dollars.”
Devin shakes her head. “You should’ve called that nigga the same day.”
Rhonda agrees. “Immediately.”
She sits up. “Cause that nigga is too fine.”
The table busts out laughing again.
“I would’ve called him as soon as I got home.”
Annie laughs. “I know you would’ve.”
Then Rhonda thinks for a second. “Ooh.”
“Why don’t you write him a letter first?”
“Start the conversation off that way.”
She shrugs. “Then maybe you can ease into talking to him on the phone.”
Annie’s eyes widen. “That might work.”
Annie immediately looks nervous again.
“But I’m scared to hand it to him.”
Devin jumps in. “He drives, right?”
Devin shrugs. “Stick it on his windshield.”
Rhonda nods. “That’s actually smart.”
“Or on his driver’s side window,” Devin says.
Annie thinks about it. “I’ll think about it.”
Ebony suddenly shakes her head. “So damn…”
“So it’s really fuck Ryan then.”
Rhonda turns slowly. “Do you want Ryan or something?”
“’Cause you really advocating for him.”
“I just loved them together.”
Devin waves her hand. “Fuck Ryan.”
She looks at Annie. “What’s the dude’s name?”
Annie smiles a little. “It’s Smoke.”
Devin laughs the hardest. “I like that.”
Annie laughs too. Then she looks at Rhonda.
“Have you talked to his friend yet?”
“Of course.” Rhonda grins. “We tryna meet up soon.”
Devin’s eyes widen. “Wait.” She points. “He had a friend with him?”
Rhonda smiles. “Yes and he fine as hell too.”
Devin sits up straighter. “Oh?”
“Mhmm.” She grins. “Me and Annie gon’ double date.”
“Aye!” Devin points at her. “Ask him if he got any more fine ass friends.”
The whole table busts out laughing.
Rhonda shrugs. “I guess.”
Annie just shakes her head.
But as they continue talking, her mind drifts. To a pair of brown eyes. A deep voice.
And a hundred dollar bill folded neatly inside her purse.
A smile slowly spreads across her face.
And she doesn’t even realize she’s smiling until Rhonda catches her.
“You thinking about him.”
The whole table starts laughing.
And Annie can’t stop herself from laughing too.
Down in the city, Smoke is at home.
He’s standing in front of his bathroom mirror, fastening his watch around his wrist. He just got dressed.
He runs a hand over his beard one last time.
Then he hears knocking. Three quick knocks. He already knows who it is.
Tobias walks in. “Finally. Damn.”
Smoke steps aside. “You act like I had you waitin’ all day.”
“Nigga you did. I been tryna get out.”
Tobias laughs as he walks into the living room.
Smoke shuts the door behind him.
Then drops onto the couch.
Tobias sits in the recliner.
Smoke already knows. “No.”
Tobias starts laughing. “I ain’t even ask shit yet.”
“I know what you about to ask.”
Tobias leans back. “Aight then.” He pauses. “The girl at the mall.”
Smoke sighs. “What about her?”
“You already sound irritated.”
Tobias smirks. “What’s her name?”
Smoke looks at the television. “Why?”
“Annie.” Tobias nods. “Pretty name.”
Tobias studies him. “So…”
Smoke cuts his eyes. “So?”
Tobias laughs. “Aight. Did she call you?”
“Nigga, she ain’t called you?”
Smoke sucks his teeth. “Nah.”
“Since Saturday nigga. I wrote my number on the hundred dollar bill I gave her.”
Tobias laughs “And she still ain’t called?”
Smoke’s jaw flexes. “No.”
Tobias starts grinning. “This shit botherin’ you.”
Smoke huffs. “I don’t care.”
“Then why yo face like that?”
Smoke cuts his eyes at him.
Tobias laughs. “Oh shit” He points at him. “You really like this girl.”
More than he probably should.
Tobias sees the silence and starts grinning again. “Nigga.”
Smoke shakes his head. “I don’t know.”
Smoke sighs. “I don’t know what her deal is.”
Tobias looks confused. “What you mean?”
“I can’t tell if she scared…” He pauses.
“Or if she just don’t wanna fuck wit me.”
“I’m serious.” He leans back. “I don’t know.”
Tobias stares at him. “That girl definitely wanna fuck wit you.”
“Nigga, because I got eyes.”
“She was lookin’ at you.”
Smoke rubs his jaw. “I know.”
“And she kept looking at you.”
“And she let you hold her hand for about thirty minutes nigga.”
Smoke laughs despite himself. “It wasn’t thirty minutes.”
A small smile almost appears.
Then disappears. “I don’t know.”
Tobias is genuinely confused now.
“Nigga, what happened to you?”
“You ain’t never overthink women.”
Tobias points at him. “You done analyzed every smile this girl gave you.”
Smoke starts laughing. “Nah I haven’t”
Tobias keeps going. “Usually you already know what it is.”
Because he did. Women had always been easy. Most of the girls from his neighborhood were straightforward. If they liked you…You knew.
They flirted. They called. They pulled up.
Some damn near told you outright.
It had always come easy. Too easy.
He never really had to pursue. Never had to wonder. Never had to question whether a woman wanted him.
Yet here he was. Thinking about one girl.
A girl he’d barely spoken to.
A girl who smiled at him like she liked him.
Looked at him like she liked him.
Got nervous around him. Yet still hadn’t called.
That shit had him completely thrown off.
“I don’t know what the next move is.”
The words come out before he can stop them.
Tobias just stares. Then busts out laughing.
Smoke frowns. “ Nigga What’s funny?”
“This nigga said he don’t know the next move.”
Tobias laughs even harder. “I ain’t never heard you say no shit like this.”
“Nah.” He wipes his eyes. “You really don’t know what to do.”
Because…He really doesn’t.
Then shrugs.”Maybe she shy.”
The way she’d looked away.
The way she’d gotten flustered.
The way she could barely get a sentence out around him.
“Or maybe she really scared.”
He points at him. “You don’t know what you look like?”
“Nigga, you wear baggy clothes, got golds in yo mouth, money, jewelry, and you be starin’ at her. You look like a thug ass nigga from the city and she from out south.”
“You be lookin’ at that girl like she the only person in the room.” He pauses. “I’d be nervous too.”
Because…he does stare and maybe he does come off intimidating.
Finally Tobias grins. “Give it another day.”
Smoke looks at him. “If she don’t call…”
He shrugs. “Then talk to her at work.”
Then slowly nods. Because he’s tired of wondering.
And one thing he knows for sure…
He definitely wants to know Annie.
Later that night, Annie is stretched across her bed on her stomach.
The overhead light is off.
Only her bedside lamp is on, casting a warm glow across her room.
A soft breeze slips through her cracked window, causing the curtains to sway gently. The house is quiet. Everyone is either asleep or winding down for the night.
Annie twirls a pen between her fingers.
Then taps it against her chin.
Her notebook lies open in front of her.
At the top of the page she’s already written:
She smiles. It still feels strange calling him that.
Her eyes drift to the hundred-dollar bill tucked safely inside her notebook.
She still can’t believe he gave her money. For the second time.
She runs her fingers across the paper. Thinking.
About his style. His sleepy eyes. His voice.
Next time, try the cinnamon.
Her stomach does that little flip again.
Annie flops her head onto her folded arms and groans into her pillow.
Why does he make her so nervous? She doesn’t even know this man.
Barely knows anything about him. But she wants to.
Annie has always loved words. Loved writing.
She writes when she’s happy. Writes when she’s sad.
Writes when she’s confused.
Being on the school newspaper only made her love it more.
One day she wants to go to college for journalism.
Maybe become an editor for a magazine.
Or a newspaper. Something where she can tell stories.
Something where she can write.
And right now… She has a story sitting in her thoughts.
A man with sleepy brown eyes and golds in his mouth.
She taps her pen against her chin again.
A poem. That’s what she’ll write.
She sits up a little and begins scribbling.
The words flow easier than she thought they would.
I’m writing this because I’m intrigued.
Beneath that tough exterior, what’s on the interior?
I always notice how you move with purpose and precision,
So tell me, what you want with me, tell me what’s your vision?
Tell me what soothes you.
Tell me where you’ve been and how far you want to go.
And tell me if you’re genuine or just putting on a show.
Are you really serious, or do you tend to play games?
And can you tell me the meaning behind your nickname?
What’s your motive? Why do you always stare?
And why do you give me things? Is that your way of showing that you care?
Tell me what brings you joy and what sends you into a rage.
And if I asked, would you lay your heart out on a page?
Don’t judge me… you make me feel shy.
Are you really feeling me?
Smoke is restless. He knows exactly why.
The first thing he does after clocking in is walk over to the bulletin board to check the schedule.
He tells himself he’s making sure the kitchen is staffed properly.
His eyes automatically search for one name. Annie. There it is.
A strange mix of relief and anxiety settles in his chest.
He hasn’t seen her since Saturday. She never called.
That bothers him more than he’d like to admit.
He’d replayed that day in his head more times than he cared to count, trying to figure out what he’d done wrong.
Maybe he came on too strong.
Maybe she wasn’t interested after all.
Maybe she lost his number.
Hell… maybe she was avoiding him.
He just knows he needs to figure out what’s going on.
The problem is… He has no idea what he’s going to say.
Outside, Annie pulls up to the bus stop.
She exhales as she gets off the bus.
The folded poem she’d written to Smoke rests in her pocket. She didn’t get a chance to stop home after school. Newspaper staff had stayed late finishing the next issue.
Now she’s rushing straight to work.
Her heart pounds against her ribs as she walks over to Smoke’s truck.
The parking lot is quiet.
She glances around to make sure no one is looking.
Then carefully slides the folded letter beneath his windshield wiper on the driver’s side.
She lingers for just a second. Thinking
Then she quickly turns and heads inside before she can lose her nerve.
The kitchen is alive with its usual rhythm.
Knives chopping. Fryers bubbling.
The steady hiss of food hitting the grill.
Servers weaving in and out with trays.
Smoke is plating an order when he feels it.
He can’t explain it. He just…Feels her.
His hands pause for half a second.
Annie has just stepped through the back door.
She quietly walks over to the employee hooks and hangs up her jacket.
Smoke’s eyes immediately find her. His chest tightens.
She looks exactly the way she always does. Pretty. Calm. Focused.
Like she belongs wherever she stands.
Annie can feel someone watching her.
She already knows who it is.
The tiny hairs on the back of her neck stand up.
Her stomach flutters. She slowly turns around.
Their eyes meet. Just for a second.
Smoke immediately looks away and pretends to wipe down the counter.
Annie lowers her eyes too. Neither one of them says a word.
She simply grabs her server book and heads back onto the floor.
Smoke watches her disappear through the swinging doors.
She still ain’t tried talked to me.
Nearly two hours pass. Business is unusually slow.
The few times Annie comes back into the kitchen to grab drinks or pick up food…Their eyes keep finding each other. Quick glances.
Neither one willing to hold eye contact for too long.
It’s almost like they’re daring each other to say something.
But neither of them does.
Out on the floor…Annie’s phone vibrates. Mama. She sighs.
She glances around before slipping into the Cove.
The large banquet room is empty tonight.
Rows of neatly arranged tables sit quietly beneath the dim lights.
The room echoes just enough to make every word feel louder.
She answers. “Hey, Mama.”
Smoke, meanwhile, has no tickets on the line.
He wipes his station down before deciding to step out onto the floor.
He hasn’t seen Annie in a while.
A thought creeps into his head.
He checks the dining room. Nothing.
Then he heads toward the Cove.
As he reaches the entrance, he hears Annie’s voice.
She’s facing away from him, too focused on the conversation to notice he’s there.
“I didn’t have time to stop home, Mama. I had newspaper today.”
Smoke hears only Annie’s side.
Her shoulders slowly tense.
“Mama… why can’t Tyree or Mario cook?”
Another pause. “It’s time they learn. They’re twelve and fourteen. They’re old enough. Me and Ed were cooking at eight and ten years old.”
Her voice grows quieter. “I’m not gonna always be around anymore.”
Smoke’s brows slowly knit together.
“I know they’re my siblings…”
She closes her eyes. “…but me and Ed have to have a life too.”
Smoke’s expression changes.
Confusion gives way to concern.
He hears frustration. Exhaustion.
The kind that doesn’t come from one bad day.
Annie sighs heavily. “I really don’t understand why you’re mad at me.”
“They’re your kids, Mama… not mine.”
Her voice cracks just slightly. “I’ve done enough.”
She pinches the bridge of her nose. “I had to come to work.”
She exhales. “I’ll talk to Daddy about it.”
Smoke quietly backs away before she can turn around.
He slips back into the kitchen unnoticed.
As he returns to the line, her words replay in his head. They’re your kids… not mine.
He understands that feeling more than most.
Being forced to grow up too soon.
Feeling responsible for people you didn’t bring into the world.
Having to sacrifice pieces of your own childhood because somebody else couldn’t carry their weight.
He knows that burden. He lived it.
His mind starts putting pieces together.
Is she still in high school?
He frowns. She’d have to be.
You had to be eighteen to work at Red Lobster.
Which meant…She was probably a senior.
That surprises him. Not because of her age…
But because of how she carries herself.
She speaks with maturity. Works hard.
Handles herself like someone much older.
Now he’s even more intrigued.
And unexpectedly…Protective.
The swinging kitchen doors burst open.
Annie pushes through harder than she intended.
The frustration from the phone call still clings to her. Her jaw is tight.
Her brows drawn together. She’s trying not to cry.
Smoke looks up immediately.
He’s never seen that expression on her face before. His chest aches.
Without saying a word, Annie walks over to the drink station.
The ice bin rattles open.
She grabs a cup harder than necessary.
The scoop scrapes against the ice.
Crunch. Ice tumbles into the cup.
She reaches for the soda nozzle.
Smoke watches for another second.
He walks around the line and steps into the narrow galley beside her.
Annie smells him before she looks at him.
His clean cologne drifts toward her.
Warm. Woodsy. Comforting.
She instinctively turns her head just a little.
Smoke grabs an empty cup.
The metal scoop digs into the ice.
The sound echoes softly between them.
Neither one says anything at first.
They’re standing so close their shoulders are only inches apart.
Annie keeps her eyes on her drink.
He breaks the silence. “You okay?”
His voice is low. Gentle.
The sound sends an unexpected chill down Annie’s spine.
She blinks. Looks around.
Surely…He isn’t talking to her.
Smoke chuckles quietly. “Yeah.”
He smiles just a little. “I’m talkin’ to you.”
How he saw through the smile she’d been wearing all night.
She forces a small nod. “Mm-hmm.”
A moment passes. “I’m okay.”
Smoke studies her for just a second longer.
But he also knows she doesn’t know him well enough to tell him the truth.
Instead, he says softly, “You not.”
Another pause. “And it’s okay.”
“Just know this too shall pass.”
Nobody has said anything that kind to her in a long time.
Her throat tightens…. “Thank you.”
He fills his cup the rest of the way.
Then quietly steps around her.
He heads back toward the line.
He wanted to ask why she never called.
He wanted to know where they stood.
But after overhearing that phone call…
None of it seemed important anymore.
Right now…She looked like she was carrying enough.
The end of the shift finally rolls around.
Smoke clocks out, says goodbye to a few coworkers, and heads toward the parking lot.
The night air is cool, carrying the scent of rain from somewhere in the distance.
He unlocks his truck and climbs inside.
The engine rumbles to life.
Just as he’s about to pull away, something catches his eye.
A folded piece of paper is tucked beneath his driver’s side windshield wiper.
His hand freezes on the gearshift.
He cuts the truck back off.
Nobody leaves notes on people’s vehicles. Not unless they wanted to.
He climbs back out, instinctively scanning the parking lot.
A few employees are still walking to their cars.
Others are already pulling away.
Nothing seems out of the ordinary.
Slowly, he reaches beneath the windshield wiper and pulls the paper free. It’s folded neatly.
On the front, written in careful handwriting, are four simple words.
His mind immediately starts racing.
Who the hell…He turns the note over in his hands. No other name.
He climbs back into his truck, closes the door, and rests the folded paper on the steering wheel.
For a second, he’s tempted to open it right there.
His fingers even start unfolding the edge.
Then he stops himself. “Nah.”
Whatever it is…He wants to read it somewhere quiet.
He tucks it carefully into his center console and pulls out of the parking lot.
The entire drive home… his mind refuses to let it go.
Who wrote it? His first thought is Annie. Then he immediately talks himself out of it.
If she wanted to talk to me…Why wouldn’t she just call?
He drums his fingers against the steering wheel.
Then another possibility crosses his mind.
One of them other girls. He’d noticed the whispers. The lingering stares.
The way a couple of the servers giggled whenever he walked by.
They weren’t exactly subtle. He never entertained it.
Never encouraged it. But he wasn’t blind either.
Maybe one of them worked up enough courage to leave a note instead.
Still…That didn’t feel right.
Those girls weren’t shy. If anything, they were bold.
The type to walk right up to him.
The type to flirt out loud.
Not leave anonymous letters.
His thoughts drift back to Annie.
She was different. Quiet. Reserved.
The kind of person who looked away whenever their eyes met.
The kind who smiled softly instead of loudly. The kind who seemed like she’d rather write something than say it.
Smoke grips the steering wheel a little tighter. Please let it be her.
The thought catches him off guard.
He lets out a quiet laugh. “Damn…”
He ain’t never felt like this before.
He’s never cared enough to actually pursue a woman.
Never sat around hoping somebody wrote him a letter.
Never spent an entire drive home thinking about one person.
Yet here he is…Doing exactly that.
When he finally pulls into the parking lot, the anticipation only grows stronger.
His truck idles for a moment before he shuts it off.
The folded letter is still sitting safely in the console. Waiting.
He grabs it before heading inside. His house is quiet.
He tosses his keys on the counter.
Changes into a T-shirt and basketball shorts.
But even then…His eyes keep drifting toward the folded paper lying on the kitchen table.
The house is silent except for the ticking clock on the wall.
The faint scent of perfume rises from the paper.
His eyes close for just a second.
He recognizes it immediately.
The same soft scent he’d caught every time Annie walked past him.
His stomach flips. He starts reading.
The first few lines pull him in immediately.
Then he reaches—why do you just stare?
A slow smile begins forming.
Why do you give me things? Is that how you show you care?
Smoke chuckles under his breath.
Now he knows. Without a doubt.
It’s Annie. She’s the only one he ever catches himself staring at.
The only one he’s bought anything for.
The only woman at that restaurant who’s been occupying his thoughts day and night.
By the time he reaches the end of the letter, the smile on his face is impossible to hide. A real smile. One that almost never appears.
He leans back in his chair. Relief washes over him.
All weekend he’d been driving himself crazy. Wondering why she hadn’t called. Wondering if she’d changed her mind. Wondering if he’d imagined the connection between them.
Now he finally understands.
She hadn’t ignored him. She was just…Shy.
Really shy. Probably the shyest woman he’d ever met.
His eyes drift back to the top of the page.
He reads the first few lines again.
She’d written him a whole damn poem.
Smoke smiles and slowly shakes his head.
Of all the ways she could’ve responded…
She sat down and wrote. She actually took her time.
Thought about every question. Made it rhyme.
He runs his thumb lightly across the paper.
He can almost picture her sitting somewhere with her notebook, tapping her pen while she searched for the right words.
The thought makes him smile even wider.
He’d never met a woman like her.
Most women would’ve just picked up the phone and called.
Or flirted across the room.
Annie wrote poetry. And somehow…That fit her perfectly.
It was thoughtful. Intentional. Quiet. Just like her.
“I’m gon’ have to work.” He mumbles
The realization doesn’t discourage him. If anything…It excites him.
She’s worth getting to know.
Worth being patient with. Worth earning.
He looks down at her letter one more time.
Carefully folds it back along the creases. Then stands up.
He walks into his bedroom and rummages through a dresser drawer until he finds a spiral notebook and a pen.
He stares at the blank page.
Shakes his head with a grin. “Damn…” “I ain’t wrote a letter since school.”
And even then…It had been few and far between.
He sits down anyway. Clicks the pen.
Thinks about Annie. Then begins to write.
Let me start by sayin’, at first I was a lil’ concerned.
But now I see that you the type of woman who likes to be earned.
I ain’t gon’ lie…you had a nigga second guessin’,
But now I see I’m learnin’ a valuable lesson.
That everything happen when it’s supposed to, in due time.
Maybe that’s partially why I can’t get you off my mind.
The reason I stare at you?
‘Cause I damn sure ain’t blind.
Don’t tell me that you don’t even know that you a dime?
I don’t think you realize just how beautiful you are.
A woman like you don’t come around often. You more like a shootin’ star.
You asked why I give you things.
Truth is… that’s just me.
It’s who I’ve always been,
And who I’m always gon’ be.
You asked if I’m serious.
Shit, Pretty Eyes… you damn right.
Cause you the one who’s been keepin’ me awake at night.
That smile of yours shine extra bright.
And I’d be lyin’ if I said yo shape wasn’t just right.
I ain’t never really had to put up a fight.
Usually women make it easy for me, make me wanna take flight.
And to be honest…I kinda like this shit.
Got me kinda scared to ask you is this really legit?
Cause this shit all new to me.
And every time you step into my line of sight, You don’t even know what you do to me.
Got a nigga sweatin’. Got me feelin’ real nervous.
Hell…Now you got me sittin’ down tryna write some verses.
You wanted to know my age?
Well shit, I’m twenty two.
I really think you fly as hell.
I’m tryna get to know you better.
That’s exactly why I took the time
A man like me gon’ always chase a dollar.
I grew up knowin’ if you wanted more,
Standin’ somewhere in a kitchen.
And maybe…If I can get this fine ass shorty named Annie to finally listen.
Disrespect. Fake love. Niggas movin’ funny.
Life too short for all that.
I’d rather stay focused and get this money.
As for the meaning behind my nickname…
I ain’t really ready to share.
But if you quit playin’ wit me…
Maybe one day…We’ll get there.
You wanna know why I’m feeling you?
I’d rather tell you that face to face.
And whenever you ready just name the time and the place.
I got a few questions too.
Let’s see if you really gon’ answer…
Or is you gon’ act brand new.
You ever talked to a nigga like me…
Do you expect me to be better…
Tell me yo age. Tell me yo location
Tell me the type of shit that gives you motivation.
Tell me what keeps you goin’ When life become too much.
Tell me if you like words of affirmation better or do you like physical touch?
What you like to do when you ain’t at work?
Tell me…When you look at me like that… Is you tryna flirt?
What’s yo hopes? What’s yo dream?
Do you talk just to talk?
Or do you say what you mean?
Why do I make you so shy?
Are you feelin me too? And If you are..
I’ll be waitin’ on yo next letter.
The next afternoon, Smoke pulls into Stack’s driveway..
The bass from his truck fades as he cuts the engine.
Before he can even make it to the porch, the front door swings open “There go this nigga.”
Stack smirks, leaning against the doorframe. “Took you long enough.”
Smoke shrugs. “I been movin’.”
Smoke chuckles as they dap each other up before heading inside.
Stack tosses Smoke a bottled water before taking a seat on the couch
Stack drops onto the chair, tv on ESPN.
He glances over. “Sup nigga.”
Smoke chuckles. “What’s good?”
Smoke twists the cap off. “Pretty much.”
Stack studies him for a second.
Then a grin slowly spreads across his face.
Smoke already knows what’s coming.
Smoke takes a sip of water. “Who?”
“The one you been chasing.”
“I ain’t chasing nobody.”
Stack laughs. “Tobias already told me.”
Smoke cuts his eyes at him.Told you what?”
“That you been after some hoe y’all met at the mall.”
Smoke’s mouth twitched at the word hoe. He sighs.
“Tobias talk too damn much.”
Smoke shrugs. “I ain’t say that.”
“You ain’t deny it either.”
Stack points at him. “There it is.”
“You definitely smirking.”
Smoke shakes his head. “You bored.”
Stack leans back into the couch.
“I’m just trying to figure out what type of woman got my brother acting all mysterious and shit.”
“You gon’ answer any of these questions?”
Smoke laughs under his breath.
“You askin too many damn questions.”
“Because you don’t never like nobody.”
That answer alone tells Stack everything he needs to know.
“Oh…” He points at him. “You really feelin’ her.”
Before Smoke can respond, the front door opens. Monica walks inside carrying a shopping bag.
The moment her eyes land on Smoke, her expression changes. “There you are.”
Stack notices immediately.
Monica drops her bag by the door.
Without another word, he follows her toward the kitchen.
The second they disappear around the corner, Stack leans back on the couch laughing to himself.
“Oh… this finna be interesting.”
Monica folds her arms. “So…”
“Why you been avoiding me?”
“I ain’t been avoiding you.”
She laughs sarcastically. “Smoke… stop.”
“You don’t answer my calls.”
“And every time I ask to see you…”mShe shrugs. “You busy.”
Smoke rubs the back of his neck. “I got a lotta shit going on.”
She studies him. Then slowly shakes her head. “No.”
Smoke exhales. “I’m really not.”
Her voice sharpens. “I know you.”
“You don’t act like this unless something changed.”
Silence. Then it finally clicks.
Her face falls.“…There’s somebody else.”
Smoke doesn’t answer. He doesn’t have to.
Monica lets out a short laugh. “I knew it.”
She nods to herself. “Who is she?”
She shakes her head. “Out of all the girls you’ve talked to…” She points at him.
“You ain’t never avoided me.”
Her voice gets louder. “You always kept it real wit me.”
She laughs bitterly. “You can’t even tell me the truth.”
Monica studies his face. Then sighs.“Whoever she is…” She nods slowly….”she must be special.”
His expression softens for just a split second.
That tells Monica everything.
She throws her hands up. “Wow.”
Her voice rises. “I can’t believe this shit.”
Smoke shuts down. His face goes blank.
She grows even more frustrated.
The raised voices carry into the living room.
Stack gets up and walks into the kitchen.
He immediately steps between them.
Monica points around him.
“He won’t even talk to me!”
Stack glances back at his brother.
Smoke has already grabbed his keys.
“I’m finna head out.” He walks into the living room and Monica follows.
Monica stares at his back. “So that’s it?”
Smoke pauses at the doorway.
Tempted to say something but he doesn’t. He just walks out instead.
The front door closes behind him.
Monica stands there fighting back tears.
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