The Friend

Rodney

For the past hour, Rodney sat in his living room, staring at his blank TV screen in silence. Suddenly, the doorbell rang. Snapping out of his thoughts, he grabbed the remote and turned the TV on. He had originally came out here to escape his thoughts by watching something, but couldn't even manage to turn on his TV.

He couldn't stop thinking about last night. As Alicia walked off with Dezzi, Maxine appeared again. Rodney sucked his teeth, thinking about Dezzi's hand on Alicia's waist. Here Rodney was thinking Alicia couldn't have had any experience with men when she had a whole boyfriend. How could he have missed it? He was sure that she was too shy to have one.

And why was he thinking about her and Dezzi being together?

Because she looked good in that dress and Dezzi was the one feeling on her waist. Something about Dezzi didn't sit right with him. The guy seemed sneaky and to be her co-worker, way too inappropriate holding her like that while their boss could've seen them; Rodney clenched his jaw and formed fists, imagining yanking Dezzi's arm off of her and punching his skull in. When she asked if he was here for Maxine, he couldn't admit to her that he wasn't. He was here for her. That had promptly sent her leaving. Would she have stayed if he told her the truth?

"This is crazy. None of this matters. It's her life. She could be with whoever she wants. I don't care," he whispered to himself.

An impatient knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. It was followed by howls. Cortes and Michael. Rodney answered it, desperate to talk to someone. To get his mind off of his strange, violent anger towards this Dezzi guy.

"Aye, what's good, my nigga?" Michael greeted him.

"Yeah, it's always a pleasure to come over to your place, man. Even if it's for a second," Cortes said, "Ready to go?"

Rodney's lips thinned. Derek never liked having company over. With his dangerous work of selling drugs, the luxurious way their apartment was set up left people talking long after they left it. So, Rodney never had company over either. Not even his friends. Sometimes they stopped by when they were all going somewhere, but they didn't chill here for long.

"Yeah, let's head out," Rodney said, leading the way out of his place.

***

They went to a spot in midtown. Somehow, Cortes knew the owner and bouncer so he they didn't have to wait in the long line. As soon as they entered, the loud bass from the speakers rushed to their ears. Pop Smoke was playing, bottle girls were sashaying all about—the place was packed. They got a table and Rodney sat down with a huff, spreading his long legs out.

"I thought we were gonna get dinner?" he asked.

"Bro, you can get some food here," Michael said

"But I don't wanna get food here—"

"Yo, check out that baddie over there," Michael said to Cortes, "Man valid. Look at her ass..."

"Yo, if I was with her, I'd fuck the shit out of her all night. Just—" Cortes cut himself off and started clapping.

Rodney rolled his eyes and rose from his seat, not wanting to hear them thirst over some girl. He went over to the bar and thought about ordering bar food before deciding against it. He didn't want to go back to his friends either. He knew why they were here and he didn't want to be a part of the shenanigans. Not after dealing with Maxine, not after...well, there was no after. Alicia and he weren't...

He sighed loudly, smacking his head to drown out his thoughts and turned around.

The white lights shifted to yellow then orange and then red as the music changed to something electronica. White people lost their minds and started to jump around. Rodney froze as his heart raced, matching the thump of the music. Alicia stood behind him.