Whirlwind

39

[Lamarr]

"What the fuck?" I hissed under my breath as yet another phone call went unanswered. 

I couldn't decide if I was more concerned or pissed off that my calls were being dodged because I wasn't sure if she was purposely ignoring me or was instead in some kind of danger. Not knowing for sure only triggered another round of call backs as I silently hoped the ring to one of them would be cut short at any point. With every lingering second my leg began to grow restless as it repeatedly bounced out of nervousness, and the glares of everyone at the table reminded me that I probably looked insane right about now to everyone in this restaurant.

Even when I did decide to place my phone down and give up on my mission, my eyes found themselves lingering to the screen waiting for an incoming call instead. That then left me sighing heavily and cursing once again.

"Nigga, what is wrong with you?" Mike asked curiously as he peeled back the seal on his barbecue sauce. "I've never seen someone throw a hissy fit in Chick-fil-A. I mean why would they? The food is good as shit."

"It's nothing, man." I muttered, glancing down at my phone once again as I fidgeted with the paper sealed around my straw. "I'm just frustrated."

"Well clearly."

"Shut up." Mike chuckled back at my hostile attitude and started spreading the sauce along the chicken inside his sandwich. By now he usually takes the initiative to pry deeper into my business, but in this moment he was so occupied with his food that he could've cared less. No one was responding how I wanted and when I wanted on this dandy ass afternoon, and it was forcing me to act out of body and do it for them instead. "Aye, can yo–"

"Lamarr, man. You've been blowing her shit up for the last hour and you've texted her several times." he interjected as I finally opened my straw and slid it into the lid of my cup. "Chill out."

"How can I chill out when I always call her around this time or she calls me, and today on one of the most important days of my life, she's not answering? What if she's dead in her crib or something? What if she went hiking on that damn Onion Canyon thing and fell off?" I continued to babble as Mike shook his head, and Elijah who sat beside him stifled a laugh as he chewed into his waffle fries. "What if someone kidnapped her? No one would know and here I am calling and it's too late."

"Or what if she's just sleep, nigga? You know, maybe even busy working?" Mike posed as a hint of mockery lingered into his words. "I also think you meant Runyon Canyon."

"I don't give a fuck what the name of it is. My girl might be laying at the foot of it unconscious with broken bones for all I know, and you sitting here correcting the name of that place?"

"You're kind of being irrational right now, Cole." Ced claimed, reminding me that he was even sitting beside me. "What y'all get into some argument the last time y'all spoke and you're feeling guilty? I mean, that would be the reason I would be spazzing."

"I'm not spazzing." I gritted and took a sip of my Sprite.

No one was taking me serious. Instead they all considered my behavior to be foolish. Honestly, in my right mind, I could agree to it being that too. Riley was the only person who has and would ever make me do something out of the norm. It didn't take much for her to get me to react and it made me wonder sometimes if I cared too much. But I could put some of the blame of today's antics on the fact that it was August 29th and my last show.

I was performing for the first time in my hometown at the Crown Coliseum, and unlike any other show this one was a major deal for me. These were the people I represented, the people who believed in me, the people who at one point didn't fuck with me. These were the people who lived vicariously through me and respected me most. I didn't want to let them down, and the only thing that would settle this apprehension was my good luck charm; which was nowhere to be found. I'd like to think that'll have anybody acting weird.