Local Gossip
917 Words
The beauty supply store was half salon, half shade room. I should’ve known better than to stay in there longer than fifteen minutes. But I needed edge control, a silk bonnet, and some of that clear lip gloss with the rollerball. Essentials.
“Girl, you Dre cousin?” the lady at the register asked as I handed her my stuff.
I blinked. “No.”
“Oh. I thought maybe y’all were related or something.” She squinted like she didn’t believe me. “Y’all just… real familiar, that’s all.”
I smiled tightly. “No relation. Just… friends of the family.”
She rang up my stuff slow, like she wanted to say more. And sure enough—
“Well, I’m just saying—folk been talkin’. He been at your people house a lot more lately. And I saw y’all in the corner at the cookout, all up in each other’s faces.”
I laughed lightly, but my stomach dropped. “You saw all that from the grill?”
“Baby, I see everything from the grill.” She handed me my bag with a look that said watch yourself, sweetheart.
By the time I made it back home, I had three missed calls from Deja. She didn’t even let me say hello before she started.
“You was at Miss Nadine’s, huh?”
“Yes…” I said slowly.
“She called my mama and said ‘Keisha and Dre think they slick.’ Girl, she told the whole shop y’all got something going on!”
I groaned. “Why is everybody so invested?”
“Because it’s a small town, Keish. This is our Netflix. Don’t act brand new.”
“I didn’t even do anything.”
“You thinking about doing something is enough to get you a headline,” she said, laughing. “Anyway, what you doing tonight?”
“Nothing. Probably Netflix for real.”
“Come out. Everybody going to this little spot off Route 6. It’s Thursday, but it might get cute.”
“Dre gonna be there?”
Silence. Then Deja said, “You asking like it matter.”
I hung up on her.
I wasn’t planning on going out. Really, I wasn’t. But around 9:30, I found myself putting on those jeans that made my hips look just right and the black top with the slight off-shoulder. Hair slicked. Edges laid. Lip gloss poppin’. I told myself it was for me… but I knew better.
The bar was already buzzing when I walked in. Low lights, too-loud music, and everybody halfway dressed like it was Saturday night instead of Thursday.
Dre spotted me almost immediately from the far side of the bar. I tried not to notice him, but it was impossible. He had on that black-and-gray Nike tech that made him look like a whole problem.
He made his way over real casual. “Didn’t think I’d see you out tonight.”
“I wasn’t gonna come. Deja dragged me.”
He leaned in a little. “Glad you changed your mind.”
“Why?” I asked.
He tilted his head, eyes sliding over me slow like he was taking his time. “You look good, Keisha. I ain’t gonna lie to you.”
My heart did that stupid skip thing, but I kept my voice cool. “So do you. But I bet you tell all the girls that.”
He smirked. “Nah. Not like this.”
We danced once. Nothing wild. Just a slow song, a little sway, his hand at the small of my back like it belonged there.
“Your girl not here tonight?” I asked, soft.
He looked down at me, serious. “We off and on, Keisha. Right now? Off.”
I swallowed, not sure what to do with that. “Still messy though.”
“Maybe,” he said. “But so is pretending like I don’t feel you.”
That shut me up.
We ended up outside on the little back patio behind the bar, away from the music and the eyes. He leaned against the brick wall, and I stood in front of him, arms crossed, trying to act unbothered.
“You always been this hard to read?” he asked.
“Probably,” I said. “Keeps people guessing.”
“I’m tired of guessing.”
I looked up at him, his eyes locked on mine like he’d been waiting for permission to say that. And maybe… I was waiting for someone to actually see me, not just look.
He stepped forward. Not too close, but close enough that I could smell the cologne on his hoodie.
“You gonna let me kiss you or you gonna keep playing like we ain’t been building up to this since the day you moved here?”
My breath caught. I didn’t answer. Didn’t need to.
He stepped in and kissed me—soft at first, like he was giving me time to stop it. When I didn’t, he deepened it just a little. Slow, warm, like he meant every bit of it.
And for a second, I let myself forget everything. The ex. The girlfriend. The gossip. The guilt.
It was just me and him. And it felt real.
When we pulled apart, I didn’t say anything. Neither did he.
But that look in his eyes?
It said, This just got real.
And I knew… I was already in deeper than I meant to be.
- Writer
