This is a voyage through the possibilities of who he is and who he can be in various universes. I welcome you to a world of each and every characteristic of DeVanté is existing as a separate entity in its own universe.
created: 23 February, 2018
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unedited.
Nicole crawled on top of the trunk of my car, her knees to her chest as she tied her shoe. "Yo', I'm tellin' you! He's cute! He is alllllllllllat and then some, okay? Baby's got it goin' on!"
I smacked my lips at her dramatics. She's known to be over the top when it comes to the descriptions of people. She's either going too high or too low. Her accuracy is at .23% and it only keeps on dropping as time goes on.
"Look, I'm tellin' you," she squealed.
Rolled my eyes. That's exactly what I did, I rolled my eyes because she is so over the top for no absolute reason. "If you say he works at footlocker, I promise we're fighting." Nicole's smile widens. "Nikki, I swear I will fuck you up! This better not be abo–"
"I need shoes."
Nicole's a sneaker-head. She obsesses over her shoes, she sleeps next to her shoes, deep cleans her shoes, everything you'd see on tv! As a sneaker-head, she spends a lot of time in shoe stores. All those sole cleansers must have gotten to her last four brain cells because she developed a special theory over time. Nicole says that there is always a cute guy in a good Foot Locker. Good is such an ambiguous word, wouldn't you agree? You can push and pull, bend and twist it all kinds of directions and ways. Right? Exactly, and that is why her whole conspiracy theory is bullshit.
Nicole shrugs her shoulders and hops off of my car's trunk. I watch the car spring up following her release. "Fat ass," I mumble.
Her hands latch to her back pair of cheeks. Taking one quick squeeze of the tissue. "Ugh," she groans feeling herself up. "I wish, I really wish." I snicker and pushing her up before me in the parking lot. "In all seriousness, it is a really good Foot Locker."
"Define good."
Nicole holds the door open for me to enter the mall before her. I feel the air of her foot kicking me in the ass as I walk past. "Good? Good. Like, they're always in stock, always give good service, always got what I need. You know, it's a good Foot Locker."
"What's that got to do with what's-his-face,"I probe, following her. Nicole's walking patterns begin to sway toward the Chick-Fil-A line with bright eyes. She tilts her head the line. I look down at my watch and say, "It's rush hour. It should be clear by the time we leave the store. You know you take seven years at a time."
Nicole shoots me a set of daggers as we drag on to the Foot Locker store next door to the GAP. "Isn't this perfect placement? Look, you got the GAP and get fitted then, you go next door and get some shoes to match. It's perfect!" Her fascination with the small things in life never ceased to amaze me. She had always cared about the tiny details of any structure. "You want to come study with me tonight? My class ends at six."
I nod my head, keeping perfect pace with her foot steps. Her humming peeks through the high volume of booming business in the mall. The humming slowly ceases as it becomes overruled by the loud bloop of a child dropping their cup in the coin fountain. Snickering, we shimmy through the crowd as she pulls me by my wrist into a store that features all of their employees dressed as referees with badges on their chests. My eyes take a quick scan of the store, not for men but for shoes. My scavenge is cut short when Nicole guides me far from the women's section to the place that she prefers today, the men's section.
