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Sex Fuck Buddy Around

Just Friends

PART 1: Experience

Prologue:Fourth Wheel

I looked at his walnut-colored lips playing with green grapes, making them disappear between his teeth. Malcolm X stared down at me from the wall as if to say "I don't believe this shit either". The smoke from incense blew in front of Malcolm X's glasses. I looked ahead to see the chubby, chocolate man in front of me with his legs spread out.

I felt a piece of paper hit my shoulder. My eyes darted to my right again under the Malcolm X poster to look into the eyes of the man I came to see with the caramel skin, mahogany eyes, and tiny mole above his lip. I planned to kiss that mole. But his two friends showed up-Grapes and Big Bones.

If I walked into one of my friends' houses and I saw someone of the opposite Sex sitting on the couch with 112 playing in the background, lamps dim, and incense lit, I'm on my way back out the door. I wouldn't sit down and eat grapes like Arnez or take my coat off and spread my fat legs out like James.

"Why did you just hit me with that?" I glared at Trade.

"I wanted to get your attention, " he replied back.

Prologue 2 "Why didn't you tell me that you were having company?" I asked him, twirling the empty vine from some of Arnez's grapes. I asked him for some grapes earlier figuring since he was here, I might as well get something out of the deal.

"I didn't know they were coming. I'm not kicking them out either, " he answered.

"Did I ask you to kick them out?" I snapped. "I'm just tripping on how we could've had this conversation over the phone but you asked me to come over here."

A couple of days ago, Trade told me he was "digging me". I wanted to know how much. I asked over the phone. He insisted on telling me in person. I came to visit his apartment. His friends showed up fifteen minutes later. There were too many people in this room. Either I needed to leave or they had to go. These two men will be Trade's friends forever. I wasn't willing to hang around that long if I couldn't get a decent answer.

Chapter 1

From Whitman to Hughes

"Whose to say this college won't be worse than the last one you were at?" my mother complained, turning around to the backseat, looking at me.

"Selex, I think you need to get your new tires aligned. Your car is steering to the right a little bit, " my father said, looking at me through the rearview mirror of my car.

I sighed and leaned my head against the window. This had to be the longest trip from Illinois to Missouri. The directions said eight hours, but this trip was turning into eternity. I let my father drive so I could get some sleep but neither one of them was letting me rest.

"Dad, why did you wait to tell me about my tires when we're already on the road?" I asked, making a face.

"This is your car, not mine. I can't hold your hand every time something goes wrong with this thing. You're the one who nagged me into co-signing for it. I think you should've waited until your senior year to get a car anyway, or at least until you knew your way around this campus."

"I don't know why you bother trying to explain anything to this hardheaded little girl. She has to have everything day before yesterday anyway, " my mother complained.

I shook my head. "Mom, would you let it go? Gawd! I've already transferred. I didn't like Lace University. I sent my transcript to Resmond University. They accepted me. We visited the campus. I'm enrolled. I got my classes. We're driving there now. But you still tripping! For what? What's done is done."

"Girl, you and that mouth can get out of my car!" my mother said, jerking her head forward, causing her braided ponytail to whip in a circle.

"This is my car!" I waved my arms up.

"Don't matter to me. I'll still leave you on the side of the road."

"I told you a thousand times, " I said, shaking my head. "Lace University had 8, 000 students and about 95 blacks. I was bored out of my mind. They didn't even have African American history. No African American literature. No fraternities. No sororities. No nothing."

"Oh, so you think AKA's are going to save your future?"

"Mom, it ain't even about that. Why do you keep ignoring the fact that they didn't have the classes I wanted."

"Selex, you are going to Resmond to party. You are not going for the better classes."

"Yes I am going for classes!"

"I've heard about Resmond, Selex. You ain't foolin' nobody!"

"If I wanted to go to a party school, I could've just gone to Southern Illinois in Carbondale."

"I wish you would have. You would've saved us a lot of money."

I slapped my palm on my forehead and closed my eyes. I had opened my mouth too soon. I knew I was about to hear for the millionth time the lecture about why she doesn't understand why I couldn't go to a school in my hometown.

* * *

"Mom, would you please just sit my trunk down at the edge of the bed?" I shouted. Her response was slamming my trunk onto the freshly mopped tile floor of my on-campus apartment.

"You don't even know your way around this campus but you just had to move into an apartment, didn't you?"

"Mom! There is no way in the world I was going to stay in the dorms one more year. You saw what kinda crazy roommates I had the two years I was at Lace! What difference does it make anyway? I'm using the dorm money to pay my rent here."

"You two argue too much, " my father muttered, pressing buttons on my remote. "How do you get the cable on in this room?"

"We are not arguing, we are discussing a situation, " my mother stated.

My father looked at her with a glance that said "Same difference." Before I could respond, someone knocked on my door. Before I could walk over to open it, my best friend Cherese walked into the room.

"What's up, parents?!" Cherese exclaimed, running into my mother's open arms.

"Cherese, we were just coming to see your apartment. Are your parents still here?" my mother shrieked, squeezing Cherese around the waist.

"Nope, they left yesterday. They only stayed long enough for me to sit down a suitcase, " Cherese explained, turning to my hug my father.

"Show me how to get the cable to come on, " my father asked Cherese, handing her my remote.

I sat down hoping nothing good was on television so my parents would be like Cherese's and leave.

Chapter 2 Class Begins

I decided to make Criminal Justice my major because of my childhood. The neighborhood I grew up in forced me to pay attention to the subject. It's a shady place. You could walk down the street eating ice cream one day and stay out all hours of the

night, walk into your house and hit the floor because a bullet just went through your front window. You never know whether to be paranoid or tranquil. But every place has its good and bad moments and I love Chicago. The Buckingham Fountain is my favorite

spot. At night when all the colors light up, it's mesmerizing. Like Dorothy says, "There's no place like home". My south side block was basically filled with boys but there were a handful of girls. Right about now, the guys are all in jail, dead, or moved to another neighborhood to start over again. The females are either pregnant, dead, or went to college. I think the last category was just me.

"'Sup, shawty, " I heard a voice mumble behind me. I turned around to stare into the face of a 6'1, brown-skinned man with a doo-rag on his head.

"Hey, " I mumbled, checking him out. He sat down in the seat directly behind me.

"You need to switch seats with me".

"Why?" I asked, turning around.

"I wanted to sit there".

"You should've gotten here earlier".

"You should've gotten here later".

"Aw, you got jokes?"

"I'd rather get your name, " he said, with his brown eyes tracing my Iman spiced amber lipstick. I love the natural look so I had on a touch of bronze eye shadow to highlight my dark eyes. I wore a blue jean shirt with no sleeves and a peek at my cleavage. I shifted from one leg to the next and noticed him look down at my toes. Not a problem cause those ten stay polished. I had on bronze nail polish to compliment my

Kit-Kat complexion. The blue sandal heels I had on were new. You know how it is on the first day to school. Everybody's got to show out!

"Selex".

"Sex?"

"Selex, boy, selex".

"Celeste?"

"Forget it, just call me Lex like everybody else does!" I rolled my eyes and turned around to face the front of the classroom. I pulled a notebook out of my bookbag and sat it on my desk.

"Sexy Lex, " he whispered.

"Corny guy, " I muttered. I heard giggling and turned to my right to see two girls staring at us.

"Tell me the joke too, " the brotha said to them, following my gaze.

"Uh-uh, baby, this wasn't even about you, " one of the girls said, laughing and looking at me. I examined her blue-black complexion and then her green eyes.

"Are those contacts?" I asked.

"Nah sista, my father's German, " she snapped, and the laughter stopped.

"No disrespect, just curious, " I said, innocently shrugging and turning to face the front of the room again. I cringed when I heard them whispering again. A few minutes later, a handful of people strolled in and sat down in random seats. I was wondering why the guy behind me was so quiet so I turned around to ask him, but the person coming through the entrance caught my attention.

This brotha's white teeth were the first thing I noticed. He had on a Roc-A-Wear navy blue t-shirt with silver gray jeans. His complexion was about a cup of beige mixed with mine. He had a pick in his neatly combed afro with an ace card sticking out of the top.

"Dawg, you in this class too?" I heard the guy behind me exclaim. He stood up to give White Teeth the common male handshake-and-hug greeting.

"Yeah, I'ma take this class as my elective. How was your summer?" I heard White Teeth ask.

"It was cool. I went to a couple clubs. Saw some new bitches, you know."

I shifted in my seat to correct the foul words coming out of this man's mouth, but I smelled Curve as White Teeth brushed by me to sit next to him. Men can be such a distraction. As if reading my mind, Foul Mouth tapped my shoulder and said "What was you about to ask me?"

"What makes you think I was gonna ask you something?"

"Cause you turned around".

"Aw, I was going to ask you do you have an extra pen?" I lied, turning all the way to my left so I could face him.

"No, Sexy Lex, I don't. My man right here might though, " he said, pointing to his friend. I turned to look at White Teeth. That was probably my biggest mistake. He stood up, pulling a pen out of his pocket and stared at me while he gave me the pen. I wish I would've just minded my business and never got myself introduced to him.

"You know him?" White Teeth asked me and pointed to Foul Mouth.

"Nah, we just met a couple minutes ago, " I said and stared at the mole above his lip. I shifted my eyes to Foul Mouth and asked "What's your name?"

"Arnez."

"Well, Arnez, you need to learn the difference between a bitch and a lady, " I explained, deciding to go back to my original subject.

"You need to stop listenin' to my conversation, Sexy Lex." Arnez winked.

"Where are you from?" I asked him.

"Memphis, Tennessee up in here! Why?"

"Just curious".

"Where you from?"

"Chi-Town".

"Uh-oh, the Windy City, " Trade interrupted, extending his hand. "By the way, my name is Trade even though you didn't ask. I'm from Kansas City".

"Missouri or Kansas?" I asked, shaking his hand. He put up one finger to clarify my first guess. "Why's your name Trade?"

"Nickname".

"Figured that out already, but why?"

"Cause I'm a jack of all trades, " he said, flashing that smile again.

"Master of none, " I finished.

"I wouldn't say that."

"Well, what have you mastered?"

"You'll find out if you play your cards right, " he smirked, nodding his head.

"Whatever, " I said, turning back around to face the front of the classroom. Jack of all trades, huh? I hope he's heard about Selex The Queen!

Chapter 3

On my Own

"So you bought all this furniture for your new apartment. Well, how you gone get it home?" Cherese asked, flopping on my new, maroon couch.

"I'll worry about that after I graduate. I still have a year to enjoy my own place."

"I can't believe Mr. Randolph let you move off-campus even though you're a transfer student. They usually make transfer students stay in the dorms for a year. Why didn't you just wait until your senior year?"

"The same reason you didn't! I am tired of the dorms. I guess Mr. Randolph figured I was responsible enough to learn my way around Missouri. I need space anyway. I'm a junior. I've been on a college campus for four semesters. I deserve my own place. I'm just glad you decided to drop by, Ms. I don't want to come home for the summer. What you been doin' up here all this time anyway?"

Cherese rolled over to face the couch pillow and mumbled "Just been handling some business." Cherese had been acting distant all summer but I respected her privacy so I decided not to question her on it until now.

"Well, now you don't have to deal with anymore crazy ass roommates, " I heard Cherese say, changing the subject as usual.

Cherese and I laughed, remembering all the letters I'd written her about my unique roommates at Lace University.

My freshman year at LU, I walked into my 12x12 dorm room to meet a petite, white girl named Melody. I had been around white people for brief periods of time at my

Christmas parties from my parents' jobs, but had never been in a living environment with different cultures. Melody made me at ease. We both listened to hip-hop and R&B, we both liked to watch Golden Girls and we both loved men.

I met Melody's boyfriend, Chauncey, before I met Melody. This cute couple was sure to get married later in the years. But they stopped being so cute once I started

waking up, seeing Chauncey every morning waiting on her so they could walk to class. Then I found out she was on depression medication so her desk always looked like she had robbed a pharmacy. When her and Chauncey broke up, the pharmacy section couldn't help her. She dropped out after our first semester to recuperate.

The second semester of my freshman year, I had a roommate who insisted on having two cats and a guinea pig. I told her the d-o-r-m-s weren't spelled v-e-t-e-r-i-n-a-r-y. Needless to say, we didn't work out as roommates and she moved out. I was glad too. I used to find long pieces of blonde hair all over my towels when I took a shower. I think she used to brush her hair on my towels purposely because she knew how much I hated it.

My sophomore year at Lace got worse. The first semester I got a roommate who thought underwear was unnecessary because her vagina needed to breathe and pajamas were overrated. I got tired of looking at her twat all day and we both got tired of arguing.

One night we got into an argument so tough that she ran out the room and didn't come back until the next morning. The next day I came back to the dorms after a long day of classes and all her stuff was gone.

During my last semester at LU, I had the room to myself. I met this basketball player named Desidon but everyone called him Desi. They pronounced it like the word diz-zy though, because on the court, he'd make all the players dizzy. He apparently thought I was as dizzy as his fan club because he tried to make me lose my virginity.

One quality I learned how to master growing up is to not be blinded by Sex. I saw the aftermath, surprise pregnancies, diseases, and broken homes, far too many times to get caught in its downfall. The decision to hold my virginity wasn't waiting for marriage either. I just hadn't met anyone that I'd wanted to have Sex with and not regret it later. Plus I only have two years to go. Why risk slowing down my education if I were to get pregnant? Birth control pills, birth control shots, and condoms all mess up from time to time. Nothing is 100%. But I am 100% sure that I will graduate.

Chapter 4

Houseguest

On the night he told me "I think I'm scared of commitment. I don't want a relationship. I just want someone to kick it with, " the hair on my arms shot up. I'd heard this line far too many times.

I stopped painting my toenails gold, stared at my rose-colored carpet for a minute, and looked up at Trade. Criminal Justice had succeeded in two things, becoming my

minor and starting a friendship with Trade.

One day I was leaving class and he stopped me on the way to my car.

"So Selex, when you gonna give me your number so I can take you out?"

I rolled my eyes and opened my car door. "Yeah right."

"Whatchu mean yeah right?" he asked, blocking the path to my car door with his arm. I tried ducking under him and he sat in my driver's seat.

"Would you get out of my car?"

"As soon as you give me your number."

"For what?"

"Why else do you take peoples' numbers?"

I shrugged and reached into my purse, handing him a business card.

"What you got a business card for?"

"You'll find that out when I find out why you're a jack of all trades".

Trade laughed. "A'ight, a'ight, I can't be mad at that."

"Now can I get in my car? I have class in a few."

"Let me have a hug."

"Man, you want a lot out of life. My phone number and a hug in the same day."

"Is that asking too much?"

"Yes."

"Well, give me a hug anyway."

I shook my head and bent down to put one arm around his neck. He pressed me to him, slipping his arms under the back of my shirt.

"Nice curves, " he whispered in my ear.

"Alright. Enough of that, " I said, pulling him out of my car playfully.

Two weeks after a short game of phone tag, he was sitting on my couch. I looked down at the maroon ashtray sitting next to his left foot. He was smoking a Black n' Mild. I loved the way those cigars smelled but it damn near killed me to try to inhale them. I tried smoking at Lace University but came to the conclusion that it's not my thing. Originally I thought it was pretty sweet watching the gray clouds swirl from my mouth. But one day a classmate of mine watched me try to smoke her cigarette and told me I was inhaling wrong. After she showed me the correct way to inhale, my stomach hurt for the rest of the night and I never tried again. I wasn't bothered when other people smoked around me, but what did bother me was Trade not emptying out my ashtray. If those ashes even peeked at my carpet, my Resolve and a sponge would be in his hands in mili-seconds.

"I have never been the type of person who's jealous of a man with female friends. I had many male friends growing up. But I don't understand your logic on friends. If you have female friends that you can have sex with and you have female friends that you just want to hang out with, then why do you want to talk to me? It sounds like you got the best of both worlds."

"It's not like I go around and have sex with all my female friends. I don't get down like that. But everybody has needs."

"So you just want to have sex then, huh?"

"No, " he said, exhaling smoke.

"Well, it sounds to me like that's the only difference you're making between the women you hang out with and the others."

"No. What I'm saying is that there are many types of friends. I have friends that I just hang out with and I occasionally look for friends that I can hang out with and get freaky with."

"You say friends. That's plural. I'm not the type of female who has casual Sex. I would never have sex with someone who couldn't consider being my boyfriend."

"I'm not saying I wouldn't consider it. But I'm not a little kid. I don't just jump up and call people my girlfriend."

"Nor do I."

"But I have needs too."

"That line is so overrated. You're telling me that you need all these females in your life. You need one to fuck"

"Oh, such harsh words, " Trade said, using his left hand to cover an ear, still holding the cigar with the other hand.

"One to hang out with, and so on and so forth, " I continued, ignoring his sarcasm. "But my question iswhy can't they all be the same person?"

"Do you have more than one friend?"

"Yeah."

"How many?"

"A couple. Why?"

"Well, why don't you only have one?"

"I met my friends at different times."

"So why didn't you stop being friends with one person when you met the next one?"

"What?" I waved my arms in frustration. "That's different. Men don't really have female friends unless they used to want to have sex with her or are trying to crush her now, " I explained, folding my arms.

"So have you crushed all your male friends?"

"I know what you're trying to get at and it won't work."

"Why not?"

"It's different."

"Different how?"

"Okay, maybe a man and a woman can be friends. But I just don't understand why you need all these friends for different reasons."

"The same reason you do. You meet people, you kick it, and whatever happens, happens. It may lead to just a friendship, it may lead to Sex, it may lead to nothing."

"Whatever, " I rolled my eyes and went back to polishing my nails.

"Whatever, " he mimicked me, kicking his shoes off and raising his legs onto my couch.

"You comfortable?" I asked, sarcastically.

"I would be if you stop asking all these questions, " he mumbled, flipping the channels on my remote.

"It ain't finna be too many more smart comments up in my place, okay?" I snapped, looking at him. He looked at me and smiled before I continued. "So how are you trying to talk to me? I don't want to be another female on your list."

"Let me guess. You want to be number one?"

"Shit, who doesn't?"

He shrugged and asked "How do you want to talk to me?"

"Did anyone ever tell you how rude it is to answer a question with a question?"

"Yep. So does that mean you won't answer my question?"

I stood up with my nail polish in my hand. I walked to the bathroom to put my nail kit into my bassinet and checked myself out in the mirror on the way back out. When I walked back into my living room, I sat on the opposite end of the couch.

"I mean, I'm not into casual sex. I think that if a man is comfortable enough to share his body with me, he should be comfortable enough to have a relationship with me. You're cool, but it seems like you're looking for a sex Buddy. And I don't have anything against anyone who does, but it's not for me. We can be friends, we can kick it, we can hang out, but that's about it."

In the few weeks that I've known Trade, he always had a comeback. But this time he was silent while he kept flipping through the t.v. channels.

Chapter 5

Absent

I flopped down at my desk and looked up to see Mr. Yinseng looking at me. I cleared my throat and started digging through my bookbag. One good thing about college is that you can be thirty minutes late and the teacher won't trip. If you get up in the middle of class and leave, they won't stop you or ask where you're going. Professors normally have the attitude of a salesperson-they want you to learn (buy something) but after you make your purchase (join the class), then it's your responsibility to take care of your investment. You spill bleach on the outfit. The salesperson shrugs and asks do you want to buy something else. You cut class or don't pay attention and then find out you

failed the class. The professor shrugs and asks do you want to repeat the class next semester. The immediate freedom you get in college can either make or break you.

"Ms. Lanson, are you joining us today?"

"Huh?" I asked, looking up at my teacher.

"What will your paper be on?"

"What paper?"

Mr. Yinseng shook his head, then replied "The sociology paper that's due at the end of the semester. For all the other daydreamers in this class, wake up." He slammed his hand on my desk. I jumped a little as he continued. "Some of you may not realize where you are, who you're with, and what your paper is about. I will explain it once again and no more. This is a sociology course, you are in Phyllis Wheatley Hall, in Mr. Anthony Yinseng's class. Do we have that so far?"

I heard a few mumbled "yeahs" and "uh-huhs" while I nodded.

"Your final paper will be ten pages of mumbo jumbo on anything about the sexes. Not sex. But the sexes, as in male and female. Double-spaced, type-written, at least ten opinions by males and ten by females on a topic of choice. Make it an A or make your advisor drop you from my class. I'm discussing it this early for all of you procrastinators. Good day, " he said, walking to his desk.

Everyone looked at each other.

"Good day means do this, " Mr. Yinseng said, picking up his suitcase and walking out of the classroom. I sighed and picked up my bookbag. I had a criminal justice test to study for, a math take home exam to take, and now a term paper. That's another thing about college. You're always busy.

* * *

When I walked out of the exit door of Wheatley Hall, I saw a guy about 5'10 with dark brown eyes and neat braids to the middle of his neck standing to my right side, smoking a cigarette. He had a thin goatee and an earring in his right ear with the letter "T" in platinum.

He blew smoke from his mouth and glanced at me.

"Hey, " he said, in a deep accent.

"What's up?" I responded.

"Dr. Yinseng don't play, huh?."

"I know, right. I'm not used to teachers getting mad about students being late to class. At my last college, they didn't care."

"Where you from?" he blew smoke out again.

"Chicago."

"Uh-oh. Chi-town. So what school did you go to?"

"It was in Indiana."

"You eat enough corn while you were there?"

I smiled at his sarcasm. "What's your name?"

"Tony."

"So what part of New York are you from?"

He moved his head back and looked at me curiously. "How'd you know that?"

"Not hearing that accent is like not knowing McDonald's makes French fries."

"Aw, a'ight. Brooklyn."

"You came all the way from Brooklyn to Missouri?"

"Yeah, needed to get away."

"Why'd you act so surprised that I knew you were from New York?"

"Cause I don't say yo and son all the time. People expect everybody in New York to do that."

"Everybody from New York that I've ever known has said those words, " I said, recalling old acquaintances.

"Well, now you met somebody that don't."

I hummed. I looked at Tony for a minute to see if he'd ask my name but he continued to smoke his cigarette and looked at me from one squinted eye.

"Well, " I said, shifting my feet around. "I gotta go to class."

"A'ight, ma. We'll speak later, " he said, dropping the cigarette to the ground and stepping on it with his right toe.

I smiled. "You say ma though."

He laughed, shaking his head, and walked away while I admired his strut.

* * *

When I walked into class, Donna was sitting in my seat. I shook my head and sat in Arnez's empty seat. Trade's seat was empty. Those two always missed class on the same day.

"Girl, he is so crazy. Yesterday we got too tore up at Monique's party, " Donna yelled, laughing with another girl in my class named Tatiana.

"Where is he anyway?"

"I don't know where Trade's crazy self is, " Donna said, looking around. She turned around and looked at me to ask "Do you?"

I shrugged and stared into her brown eyes. "Thought you said that was your real eye color?" I asked.

"Guess I lied, " she said, smiling and turning around in her seat to continue talking to Tatiana. "You should've came to Monique's, girl. Only the lames weren't invited."

Tatiana looked back at me. We spoke on a regular basis. She sat in front of me in class and she seemed cool. I guess she could feel the tension between Donna and I when she asked, "Lex, did you come?"

"Nah, I wasn't invited, " I said in a fake, hurtful voice. "I guess I'm a lame."

"You so silly, " Tatiana said, laughing.

"Maybe I'll be cool like Donna and Monique some day, " I sighed in a dreamy voice. I joined Tatiana laughing when I heard Donna suck her teeth.

By Shamontiel - Shamontiel is the author of Round Trip and Change for a Twenty, and in mid-October became the Chicago Tribune s Digital News Editor. She works on National Travel, Health and occasionally Breaking News, and w...  

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