Poison and Cure

XXX - Lovers

بسم الله
In the name of God
April 29th, 1983 11:13pm
Sacramento, CA, National Park

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His POV (Ishmael, Genesis's father)

I never was the type to hang on the outskirts of a party, but the people at the centre are too intoxicated to be any fun. Unlike me, they don't stop themselves after two drinks.

Alexander, who's somehow religious but always gets roped into gatherings like this, kept me company by sitting next to me on a half-rotting park bench. He's a funny-looking Arab-Mexican guy with dark wavy hair that hangs to his ears and an oddly pale skintone with weepy olive-green eyes.

"Ever think of settling down, Ishmael?"

His honest tone makes me wince in response, "I don't have the money for that."

"Eh?"

"If I want a girl, I want her properly," I say, leaning back and shifting an ankle on the opposite knee, crinkling my acid wash jeans, "I wanna treat her right and well, and give the things that make her feel good."

"Good sex doesn't cost much, though. So get married."

"Ha, ha," I punch his side, rolling my eyes.

He lifts a shoulder, "Hey, it's better to be faithful and give it all to one instead of bouncing in multiple girls'–"

"Don't you believe in God? Your mouth is filthy."

"I do. And it is."

I exhale, "But anyway, someday. I don't want to be a whore forever."

His eyebrows raise as he eyes me strangely, "Wow, you're for real. Good for you."

"Duh. I became a legal adult a month ago but I'll settle down when I'm twenty-five."

"So you plan on man-whoring for a long time, then."

"If the right girl doesn't stop me, then yeah."

Alexander shakes his head, "Just when I thought you were on your way to God consciousness."

"You definitely need more of that."

"Yeah, I just do—"

"Um, excuse me!" A feminine voice interrupts, causing my attention to diverge from my friend.

I turn my head to see a pretty woman with deep, dark brown skin and flat, shiny hair that hangs to her waist. She reminds me of Naomi Campbell; 5'8 with a narrow waist and a round nose. Her hands clasp each other in the back, her chest pushing upwards (it's definitely  almost eye level) as her slim, dark eyes gaze at me,

My eyes dip a little too low to be appropriate before raising to her eyes, "Yeah?"

"Have you seen a girl with a short, bright pink bob? She's, like, five foot. Or five two, I don't know."

Her voice is slightly whiny, but not entirely off-putting.

"Yeah, I... haven't seen anyone that looks like that."