Page 9 of Saint Baptiste 2

I nodded with my mouth turned down. “If you say so,” I replied before opening my tray of wings. “I don’t see how you can eat that shit.”

I wasn’t too big on coney. I didn’t care too much for American food in general. Growing up, ninety percent of the food we ate was traditional. I was raised here, but mom’s made sure we stayed connected to our roots.

Naoki pushed the fries around the tray and glanced up at me. “Nostalgia.” Our eyes briefly met, and she shrugged. “Takes me back to my childhood. The happy times, at least. Chili fries with extra cheese puts me right back on the east side of Detroit.” She ate a forkful and laughed. She placed a hand over her mouth and shook her head. “When we were sixteen... me and SiSi... we were about to jump the cashier. A grown ass woman. She had to be at least thirty. She was usually a sweetheart, but she snapped on me and I cursed her ass out. Next thing I know, she’s snatching her apron off, telling me to see her outside. The owner stopped her from coming from behind the counter.” Grunting with a light smirk she continued. “Shit, he saved her life.” Her gaze drifted off and the smile on her face lightly faded. “I had a blade on me. I would have cut her with no hesitation.”

I sat on the barstool and dipped my wing in the container of hot sauce. “A blade?”

She looked over at me and nodded. “A boxcutter. It was rusty.” She paused again and took a deep breath before putting her eyes back on her tray. “But it would have for sure done damage.”

“Fuck were you doin’ with a boxcutter?” I asked with a light laugh. “You was one of them ones, hmm?”

“One of what?” She asked ignoring the first part of the question, with her eyes on her tray.

“A scrapper. Got into a lot of fights. You and sis was ‘round that bitch wildin’?”

She glanced up at me again before looking back down into her tray of food. She couldn’t look at me. Not for long. After earlier, it fucked with me but at least she was giving me something I didn’t think she would. Conversation. Intimate conversation, at that. I didn’t get that often. Naoki kept those feeble walls up and me out of her childhood. She never talked about it. Watching her eyes light up at the mention of nostalgia and chili cheese fries made me smile. Made me feel closer to her, which was fucked up, considering I knew that when tomorrow officially came, there would be distance between us. Distance I’d have to learn to respect.

“I didn’t get into a lot of fights,” she said with a light giggle. “Everybody loved me.”

“I bet they did,” I added staring at her.

She avoided my eyes, although she knew they were calling out to her. I wanted to connect. Needed to. Wanted to see that twinkle again. Wanted to steal a piece of teenaged Naoki on her trip down memory lane.

“Who was the blade for then?” I pressed with my eyes steady locked on her after she went silent.

The silence unsettled me. I needed the conversation to keep flowing. The more we talked, the realer this felt. This illusion. Felt like we could be us again. I couldn’t remember the last time we did this. Talked over cheap ass hood food, just vibing. The conversation was never this personal. She did the most talking though. Mainly about work. Usually I’d spark a blunt. That was the only thing missing. I needed to roll up.

She glanced up at me and I searched her eyes for that twinkle. Except it was gone. There was a vagueness behind them that told me the question put her somewhere else. Took her to a place that wasn’t as nostalgically pleasing as memories of trips to coney island with SiSi.

“Someone else,” she flatly replied after a couple of seconds of silence.

She shifted her eyes away from mine and put them back on her food. I watched as she sat there, staring into the tray for a couple minutes. The silence was thick. The temperature in the room switched and I was uneasy again. Not because I was concerned about the illusion. But because I was concerned about her. She wasn’t with me. Mentally, she was someplace else. I leaned forward a bit to get a look at her face. Needed to see her eyes. They were lifeless. Empty. Almost. Tears swam in them. Pooled at the edge of them, inching at the rim.

“Oki,” I softly called out.

She looked up at me with raised brows. “Hmm?”

“Where that trip take you, amou?” I asked with genuine concern. The tears in her sad eyes fucked with me.

She placed her hands between her legs and her shoulders slightly raised. That tension steady building. She took a deep breath and got up from the barstool. I stood up right after. Really thinking about grabbing them chains to strap her ass to the bed. “Nowhere. I... I need to?—”

“I know,” I interrupted. “Stay. Just... a little longer, aight? Give me until sunrise. When the sun comes up you can?—”

She looked over her shoulder at me with a frown. “You don’t have to chase me, Saint. I need to pee... remember? I’m not leaving.” She paused and shifted her eyes to her ringing phone before snatching it from the island to silence it.

I awkwardly chuckled and brushed a hand over the top of my head. “I’m not chasin’ yo ass, girl.”

She snorted and turned away. I leaned my back against the island and watched her continue out of the kitchen. When she was out, I tossed my head back and put my eyes on the ceiling. Fuck. My heart was racing. I was chasing her. The woman made me fuckin’ crazy.

“Kaka,” I mumbled with a deep breath before pushing away from the island.

I turned around, pulled the middle drawer to the island opened and grabbed a couple grams of OG from the stash. After grabbing the backwood, I closed the drawer and sat next to the stool Naoki got up from.

My phone vibrated in my pocket, reminding me that I had someplace to be. I shifted my eyes over at the stove to check the time and decided to ignored the call. I still had time.

A couple of minutes later, she walked back into the kitchen. I noticed the redness in her puffy eyes as soon as I looked at her. I wanted to mention it, but I figured it was best to leave it alone. Looking away, I sparked fire to the blunt, took a couple pulls and passed it to her once she sat beside me. She sighed and pulled from it. I watched as she tossed her head back with closed eyes and pulled from it again. There were tears sitting behind her eyes and because I knew her, I knew she couldn’t open them. Not with me watching. So, I leaned forward and grabbed my tray of food to pay attention to something other than her. Gave her room to go through her shit without the added pressure. And when she quickly wiped her eyes with the back of her hand before passing the blunt back to me, I pretended not to notice.

“You mumbled something in Creole earlier at Pandora’s. What did it mean?” She asked after I passed the blunt to her.

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