Chapter Seven: Get In
878 Words
I wasn’t expecting nobody to be waiting on me.
It was just a regular Tuesday. Long day at school, bag heavy, earbuds in but no music playing — I was halfway in my head and halfway thinking about what I was gonna eat when I got home.
Then I saw the Charger.
Matte black. Parked across the street from the bus stop, engine low and purring like it had something to say.
Zay was leaned up against it like he owned the whole block, hoodie on, hood down, tattoos peeking from his sleeves. Just standing there. Calm. Still. Watching.
My stomach dropped.
What was he doing here?
I stopped on the sidewalk, frozen.
He tilted his head slightly, eyes locking on mine — then said it. Smooth. Quiet. The kind of command that didn’t need to be loud.
“Get in.”
I blinked, my heart thudding.
I didn’t move right away. I looked left, right, behind me — like maybe he wasn’t talking to me. Like maybe I had a choice.
But deep down?
I was already walking.
Feet moved before my mouth did.
When I got closer, he didn’t say anything. Just opened the passenger side like it was already mine.
I climbed in slow, trying to keep my breathing steady.
The inside smelled like leather, weed, and something masculine. Not cologne — more like expensive soap and danger. His phone was face down on the console. His hand rested lazily on the wheel.
He didn’t drive off immediately. He just looked at me.
“You was just gon’ walk past me like I ain’t exist?” he asked, eyes never leaving mine.
I shrugged. “You didn’t text.”
“I ain’t need to.”
I swallowed, nervous and curious all at once. “So what is this?”
“I wanted to see you. That a problem?”
“…No.”
He nodded and finally pulled off, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on his leg.
We didn’t go far. Just up the block, then a left, and he parked behind an empty lot next to a half-closed corner store.
Quiet.
Safe.
Private.
He turned the car off but left the keys in.
Then he looked at me again — that stare that always made my skin feel too small.
“You ain’t scared of me, huh?”
I blinked. “Should I be?”
He smirked. “Most girls are.”
“I’m not most.”
“Exactly.”
Silence.
Heavy, but not uncomfortable.
He leaned back in the seat, watching me like I was saying more than I really was.
“Your energy different,” he finally said.
“What you mean?”
“You ain’t loud. You don’t beg for attention. You just… exist. And somehow that’s enough.”
My heart was beating so damn loud I was sure he could hear it.
“I just try to stay in my lane,” I muttered.
He leaned in a little. “You been in my lane since the first day I saw you.”
I had to look away. I wasn’t ready for that.
Not yet.
My phone buzzed. I peeked at the screen — Janiyah.
I didn’t answer. Just texted: I’ll call you later.
Zay noticed.
“That your bestie?”
“Yeah.”
He nodded, eyes back on the road.
He didn’t ask no more questions, and I didn’t offer any.
He dropped me off twenty minutes later — no explanation, no expectations. Just a quiet ride and one final look that felt like a promise.
“Don’t forget who saw you first,” he said before I closed the door.
And then he was gone.
As soon as I got inside, I FaceTimed Janiyah.
“Girl, where the hell you been?” she asked, eyes wide.
“With him,” I said.
Her mouth dropped. “Zay?!”
I nodded slow.
“b***h. Wait. He picked you up?! Just like that?!”
“Didn’t even text me. Just pulled up.”
She sat back, hand over her heart. “That man is too bold. And lowkey… that’s why I’m scared for you.”
I frowned. “Scared?”
She got quiet.
Then she sighed.
“Okay. I wasn’t gonna say nothing yet but… I used to mess with somebody from his crew.”
My eyes widened. “What?”
“Yeah. One of his boys. Not his right-hand, but close. He was fine, funny, and charming as hell. But also possessive. Controlling. Like, if I liked a post, he’d check me for it. It got bad.”
I was quiet now.
“He ghosted me after I stopped letting him treat me like property,” she added. “So now I’m just saying… Zay might seem cool, and maybe he is. But be careful. They don’t play about who they let close.”
“I’m not even close,” I whispered.
She gave me a look. “Lyric… he pulled up to your bus stop and told you to get in. You close enough.”
I laid in bed that night, staring at the ceiling.
Zay’s voice echoed in my head.
“You ain’t scared of me, huh?”
I wasn’t.
But maybe I should’ve been.
- Writer
