Rumors Don't Need Permission
937 Words
I woke up the next morning with my lips still tingling like they remembered exactly what they were doing last night. And that was the problem.
A kiss ain’t supposed to feel like a whole decision.
I stayed in bed longer than usual, staring at the ceiling, replaying every second—how his hand fit around my waist, how he said he was tired of guessing, how it felt like he meant me and only me when he kissed me.
But then the real world came knocking. Loud.
My phone buzzed back-to-back with texts from Deja.
Deja: Get up, sis.
Deja: They already talking.
Deja: Call me NOW.
I sat straight up. “Damn,” I muttered, grabbing my bonnet halfway off my head and calling her.
She answered like she’d been waiting by the phone. “Okay, don’t panic—”
“Why would you start with that?!”
“Because you gonna panic.”
I rubbed my forehead. “What happened?”
“Ain’t nothing confirmed, but girl… somebody said they saw you and Dre on the back patio last night.”
My stomach dropped. “Saw us doing WHAT?”
“They ain’t say. Just that y’all was ‘real close’ and ‘looked cozy.’ And you know how that sound.”
I covered my face. “This town is allergic to minding they business.”
“Baby, this town don’t even know what business IS unless it belongs to somebody else,” she said. “But listen—don’t let it mess you up. You didn’t do anything wild.”
I didn’t answer.
“Keish…” she said slowly. “You didn’t do anything wild… right?”
I hesitated too long.
“OH MY GOD.”
“Deja, lower your voice,” I snapped, even though no one else was in my room.
“You kissed him?!” she whisper-screamed.
I sank deeper into my pillow. “It just… happened. And I stopped it. Or he stopped it. Or we both did. I don’t know.”
Deja sucked her teeth. “Girl, please. Kisses don’t just ‘happen.’ You been checking for that man since he kept popping up around your people house.”
“That’s different,” I muttered.
“How? Every time he was around, you got real quiet and real cute. Don’t play with me.”
I groaned. “Deja, can we not do this right now?”
She laughed. “Fine. But you kissed him. And that means things are about to get interesting.”
By noon, I had convinced myself it wasn’t that big of a deal. One kiss. No witnesses. No crime committed.
Then I walked into the grocery store.
Miss Bernice in aisle three gave me the side-eye so sharp it almost cut me. Mr. Willie, who bagged groceries even though he had enough money to retire, smiled way too knowingly. And some girl I barely recognized from high school whispered to her friend and glanced at me like I was a live episode.
All that because Dre leaned in.
All that because I didn’t lean out.
I grabbed a basket and kept my eyes forward, pretending I didn’t hear anything. But small-town whispers travel faster than push notifications.
As I turned the corner toward the dairy aisle, I nearly dropped my basket.
Because Dre was standing right there.
Gray T-shirt. Shorts. Sweat glistening on his arms like he’d just come from playing ball. And those eyes—locked on me before I even had the chance to look away.
“Hey,” he said, stepping closer.
My heart picked up speed. “Hey.”
“You good?”
“Mhm.” I grabbed the nearest carton of eggs even though I didn’t need eggs. “You?”
“Yeah.”
We stood there too long for two people supposedly minding their business.
Then he said quietly, “I heard folks been running their mouths.”
I froze. “Yeah… a little.”
“You worried about it?”
Yes. No. Maybe. I didn’t know.
“I just don’t want it getting messy,” I said softly.
He took one more step closer, lowering his voice. “Messy already started before you even knew my name. You ain’t the problem here, Keisha.”
My throat tightened. “Still feels like I’m in the middle of something.”
“Then let me make something clear.” He said it with that steady seriousness that always caught me off guard. “What happened last night wasn’t a mistake.”
My breath hitched.
“And I ain’t gonna pretend like I don’t want you,” he continued, eyes locked on mine. “But I ain’t gonna drag you into something you ain’t ready for. So if you wanna slow down, tell me. I’ll fall back.”
His voice was calm… but there was something underneath it. Something that said he didn’t want to fall back at all.
Before I could answer, someone cleared their throat loudly behind us.
We both turned.
It was Sasha.
His on-and-off girlfriend. The one who was supposedly “off.”
Arms crossed. Lips tight. Nails sharp. Eyes cutting through me like she already knew last night’s secret even though she wasn’t there.
“Well, ain’t this a cute little reunion,” she said, staring dead at me. “Didn’t know Thursdays came with surprises.”
My stomach flipped.
Dre muttered, “Man, here we go…”
But Sasha kept her eyes on me.
And I knew in that moment:
The line we crossed last night?
It wasn’t a line anymore.
It was a battlefield.
- Writer
