Thump Thump Thump!!!
I knock on the door of Stacy's home, placing both hands in my pockets. As I stand and wait for someone to answer, my chest is clogged with apprehension. Even though, I've already met her parents my heart staggers like an earthquake.
Today, Stacy and I agreed to have a day to ourselves.
We've been intending to do this ever since we came from the beach, but after soaking in the tranquility of this morning—today felt perfect. So I got dressed early, throwing on a pair of black jeans that matched my smokey air forces. I bought an Oakland Raiders shirt from Ross over the weekend. It not only goes with this outfit, but it also suits my taste in fashion. The Raiders have grown on me since we settled here, but I'm still a Seahawks fan at heart. I listen to the doorknob move while looking down at the cross dangling on my gold chain.
Here goes nothing...
The door opens, and I'm greeted by her father with a big smile.
"Mr. Dixon." He stuck his hand out. "Good Afternoon."
"Good Afternoon to you, Mr. Bradford." I shook his hand, his grip is firm.
"Come on in, your girlfriend's taking forever." He makes way so I could walk by.
"Thanks."
As I walk into the gleaming kitchen, the scent of pine reclaims my senses. Stacy sits on the floor, getting her edges done by her mother, as I approached the living room. Her hair is braided, long enough to reach down her back from this point of view. She grins noticing me out of the corner of her eye, clothed in a loose dress with African motifs—matching her yellow french tip nails.
"Heyyy boyfriend." Her mother is the first to speak.
Stacy smacks her lips. "Ma. Hey X" I laugh.
"Hey, girl. Those are some cute braids."
"Thank You."
They both respond.
"They're Feed-Ins, didn't I do a good job." Mrs. Bradford speaks again applying more edge control.
Stacy playfully rolls her eyes. "She also did these cause summer work-outs are next week."
"Well, I think they were wonderfully done," I reply. "And it's a great look on you."
"My beautiful baller." Mrs. Bradford coos, swirling her last strain of baby hair. "Alright, you can get up and hug your boyfriend."
Stacy jumps off the floor, unwinding herself in the grasp of my arms. The smell of vanilla bean is vigorous in scent. She inhales a chuck of air through her nostrils, exhaling through the shirt.
"You smell good." She muffled, burying her face in my chest.
"As do you."
Mrs. Bradford rose from the couch, tugging on her sports crop that exposed her abs.
More defined than mine...
Compared to Stacy she's a lot shorter, but as seen before she's packed with muscle. Not a masculine look, but naturally gorgeous. She and I make eye contact for a split moment, my heart is punctured by needles. I can't be crushing on Stacy's mother... I think to myself. Besides, Stacy is a spitting image of who her mom is—just younger. Finally released from the hug, I reach over to shake Mrs. Bradford's hand. She shakes it, yet her grasp is delicate.
YOU ARE READING
Telegraph Ave
Teen FictionIt's summer break and a fresh new start for Xavier Dixon and his mother. After moving to the colorful streets of Oakland once his mother got a call for a new position, Xavier set out to adapt to his new lifestyle. With a new cast of friends, new sur...
