Page 22 of Defending the Post
“You and Marquise seem to be getting along.” she said.
I sneered in her direction before smiling.
“We have decided to be friends, and he is already abusing it by asking me crazy questions.”
Jhae waved her hands in a circle to encourage me to continue talking.
“He told me this wild story about a girl giving him head and vomiting. And he wanted to know if our body gives a signal before it happens.”
Jhae rolled her eyes before returning them to me.
“Something is wrong with him,” she said, and I agreed with a head shake.
The cheerleaders lined up on the sideline ready to put on a performance. I joined in with the crowd as we clapped along with the music. Soon after, the teams returned to the floor as they prepared for the second half. I tried not to find Marquise, but I couldn’t help but to look. He mugged me and I rolled my eyes back as a response.
“You guys are too cute,” Jhae said.
“No. We are friends, nothing more,” I debunked her hopes and dreams.
“Whatever you say,” Jhae said, as she brushed her fingers through her pixie cut.
I sat on my legs and created a mood board for my presentation as Marquise struggled withBlazing and Guns. Instead of asking me how to get off this planet, he wanted to figure it out himself.
“Good game, by the way,” I said, as he jumped through a crater.
“Did you expect anything else? I mean, I am a first-round draft pick,” he boasted.
I lifted my eyes to view his side profile as he smiled. Marquise was attractive, with his beautiful brown skin, well-kept fade, brown eyes, thick natural brows, and full lips. Without his tapered beard connecting to his goatee, he would have a baby face.
“Two married women wanted you and Malcolm to run a train on them,” I said.
Marquise paused the game, allowing the controller to dangle in his hand. I giggled as I moved more items to my board, but he pulled down my tablet.
“And you’re telling me this because?” he questioned.
“Because I’m trying to be a good bestie. Is it okay for me to hand out your number?” I asked.
Last night, Marquise tickled me until I handed over my phone. He plugged in his number and called his phone from mine.
“Hell nawl. Don’t be giving your ugly friends my number,” he said, followed with a scowl.
I held my stomach as I laughed at his wrinkled forehead.
“My friend is not ugly, but did you give Chauncy’s fine ass my number?” I teased.
Marquise scanned me as if we were on the playground ready for a fight. He sat back, placing his leg on the ottoman.
“Don’t get my teammate’s ass beat,” he said.
I placed my tablet down as he licked his lips.
“We are supposed to be besties, but I can’t get the hook up?” I asked, jerking my head back in false disbelief.
“I told you this wasn’t a friendship, but a dictatorship. You’re not allowed to date. I’ll beat up anybody you talk to,” he said.
Unfolding my legs, I wiggled my maroon painted toes against his shirt.
“I told you I’m overthrowing your government. We are friends and I can date whoever I want, the same as you,” I said and smirked afterward.
