Free Falling

Try, Try Again

Denitra woke much later, just in time to catch the sun setting. It was weird. She didn't remember falling asleep again. She sat up slowly, painfully aware of the soreness that lingered in her body, particularly in her bones. She still felt drowsy. Her feet were cold, too. She didn't feel like herself, and something nagged at her that she should be careful. She just couldn't remember why.

She scooted as close to Jamien as she could, stealing his body heat until she realized that she was hungry. After a quick raid of the refrigerator, she put together a ham and cheese sandwich and found a bag of chips, then plopped down on the couch in front of the large flat screen TV. After flicking through the channels for nearly fifteen minutes, she settled on a channel dedicated to movies showcasing sappy romances and homicidal wives. It was her guilty pleasure.

When Jamien felt well enough to move around, he came downstairs and joined her on the couch. For the first time, she didn't object to his casual touch. He dived onto the couch and rested his head on her lap, busy with his cell phone. Under the weight of his head, her legs tingled. At first, she said nothing, choosing instead to remove the band around his ponytail and finger comb his hair out. Despite its dull appearance, it was very soft - void of any hair care product. Funny how she'd never given it any thought before, considering how much pride she had in her own mane. Upon closer inspection, she noticed that it wasn't black. It was actually a very dark brown.

Huh, you learn something new every day.

"See something you like?" A knowing smile graced his lips, and she returned it.

"I think so, yeah." With one hand on top of his smooth forehead and the other on his chest, finger racing over the coarse pattern of a Saints logo on his shirt, she leaned down, eyes focused on his lips. She felt him go still, barely breathing, as he waited patiently. Her hand slowly moved from his chest up to the side of his face, pausing briefly to run her thumb over the stubble that covered his cheek. Just when he was sure he couldn't wait any longer, she continued closing the gap between their lips, until hers hovered over his. She could feel his every breath, tickling her lips as it mingled with her own, creating a sweet aroma of cinnamon and mint. She could almost feel his lips on her when his phone went off, ringing loudly and vibrating like a brand new sex toy, scaring the utter shit out of both of them.

Denitra sat back suddenly, eyes wide, very aware of what had almost happened.

"Fuck!" Jamien searched around him and found the offending piece of shit on the seat next to Denitra's hip. He snatched it up. "What?"

"Damn, glad to see you're conscious." Pierce's voice filled the room as Jamien put the phone on speaker.

Jamien inhaled deeply and took his time letting it out before he spoke. "I was sorta busy, Pierce. I don't suppose I could convince you to spit out whatever you need to say?"

"Yeah, me and Z are throwing another party."

Denitra frowned. Damn, those two goobers threw parties every other night!

Jamien waited a second for Pierce to elaborate. "Are we celebrating hoes and strippers again?"

"Huh? No, man. It's August 29th, the last Friday of the month. We're celebrating August birthdays." There was a pause. "You know Gat's birthday was on the fourth. Shaundi will be here and, uh, I was hoping you'd come along to keep her grounded. I don't know what she expects out of us, but I ain't gonna be all morbid and shit. It's a celebration, not another funeral."

Denitra noticed the change in Jamien. Though he did well to keep the sadness that came with mentioning Johnny from showing on his face, those eyes of his said it all. Jamien caught her worried expression and quickly looked away, then got up and walked away. "Yeah. I'll be there."