Page 10 of A Boy Is a Gun: Part II
It’s the other thing – I think he’s starting to date again.
He follows Makayla on social media and he’s been on a liking spree of her pictures – beach days, getting fro-yo with friends, and going to farmer’s markets where she’s sniffing sunflowers (they don’t even have a smell, like the fuck?).
Makayla, in return, has been leaving likesandcomments on Cameron’s pictures, complete with smiley faces and heart emojis.She’s made slick‘I can’t wait to see what you have in store!’comments that I know are more than just well-wishes.
Plus, she just fits with the prototype that is typically Page – blonde, white, skinny, and maybe a little on the conservative side.She would be a better cover for him than I would on any given day.I don’t know if they’re dating, but Cameron is making it clear he’s available, and well, I fall into the unfortunate category of being baby mama.
It’s what my Granny warned me about.It’s what I low-key warned myself about.I was never going to be Taylor Page, no matter how many promises Cameron’s made to me.I fell for the trap hook, line, and sinker.Cameron wasn’t going to stray that far from his parents and their beliefs – he was going to marry someone who would fit right in line with their family.
I have to remember I broke up with him, and it’s not a choice I regret, given the circumstances.But I guess a part of me thought Cameron would wait for me and not do anything (oranyone, for that matter).
I also know this might be a part of his revenge tour, but I don’t know.I didn’t think spreading it low and wide to get back at his enemies had anything to do with it.But I’ll deal with those emotions later.
I’m heading out to the cafes so I can keep distracted.Jamie should be coming back today, fresh off her honeymoon, and I’m sure she’s going to want to talk to me about what happened at the wedding.She still follows me on social media, and surprisingly, she follows Cameron and the rest of her family.
Smoke and mirrors.Business as usual.
I get into the elevator and press the button for the garage.Just when the doors were about to close, a pale hand stops them and steps inside.Ugh, I hate it when people do that.Just get the next damn car, will you?
The person steps inside and is about to press the button to the garage, but then notices it was already pressed.The door closes, and we’re in our respective corners and listening to what is now considered elevator music – 80’s pop.
While 80’s R&B will always have a chokehold on my heart, the entire 80’s music collection was just full of gems.Pop, rock, R&B, rap, jazz...you name it, and there was room for everyone on the charts.I’m hard-pressed to name a horrible song from back then.Even Milli Vanilli had jams.
Right now, the elevator is serenading us with “There’s Something About You.”It’s a song that is just funky enough to be played on urban radio that the aunties and unc’s would enjoy but still very pop-friendly for the white folks.Win-win for everyone.
“I can never tell the difference between Level 42 and Human League,” a deep, male voice says from my left.
“They do sound very similar, but Human League also has a female singer, so that separates them,” I reply.
Silence then agreement.“True, true.”He clears his voice.“Who’s your favorite artist from the 80’s?”
“The same as just about everyone – Michael Jackson,” I turn to the voice, and I feel my voice suddenly become lodged in my throat.A tall, muscular Asian man with sharp cheekbones and kissable lips looked back at me.His jet-black hair was but a few long strands framing his face.
And he smelled absolutely fucking delicious, like woodsy, musk, sex...one of those, a combination, all of the above...it really doesn’t matter.
The moment reminded me of one of those 90’s rom-coms when the girl and guy finally lock eyes and a pop song naturally plays overhead.Suddenly, I have Jody Watley in my head and she’s singing how she’s looking for a new love.Yeah, it’s an 80’s song, and it fits right now.
End scene.
The man stares back at me, and I see the faintest of sighs leave his lips.“Same.Your favorite MJ song?”
“Oh, so many!”I smile.“But I have to go with “Pretty Young Thing.”You have to dance to it no matter where you are.”
He nods.“I agree.”
“What’s yours?”I ask.
He holds my attention, and I see a small smile forming on his lips.“Butterflies.”
I meet his challenge and shake my head.“That’s from Invincible.”
He turns to me, and the energy shifts in the elevator.There’s a tension between us?Not sexual, but flirtatious.“You said my favorite MJ song, not from one from way back then.”
My stance softens.“So, what’s your favorite one from back then?”
“Lady in My Life.I say it fits for this occasion.”The elevator dings and the doors open.Ugh, technology is such a ball-buster.He holds the door open and nods.“After you, milady.”
“Thank you.”I walk out and head straight to my Beemer while he goes to his Rolls-Royce Ghost.“See you later, neighbor.”
