Never Give Up
Rianna wrapped a towel around her body and reached for another to dry her hair. It was the mid afternoon and she had a free weekend to look forward to. Jimmy and Marcy, her older sister, would be taking care of things while she rested. She sat on her bed and turned the radio on, singing along to Destiny’s Child’s “Survivor”. Just as she was about to take her towel off and put clothes on, the doorbell rang. She threw her terri cloth robe on and ran down the stairs to answer it.
She opened the door to see Nick on the other side with a CD in his hand. He smiled and looked her over.
“Nice.” Rianna turned red on the spot.
“Oh my God, You just don’t give up do you?”
“Never.” There was a slight wind and Rianna got cold. She pulled Nick in and closed the door.
“I came over because I really wanna learn to dance like you. To Latin music of course. And I was hoping you could teach me.” Rianna couldn’t believe he came to her with a lamely fabricated excuse to see her.
“Who told you where I live?” She asked, folding her arms over her chest.
“Ah, good old Fatima. She owed me a favor.” Rianna scoffed and shook her head. Fatima owed everyone a favor. Nick walked passed her and admired her living room. The room was filled with candles, mini fountains, incense, and furniture that screamed femininity. Not to mention the tropical fish and tiny black cat she owned.
“You can sit, but don’t get too comfortable. You won’t be here long. I’ll be right back, I gotta put something on.” Nick grabbed her arm and pulled back.
“You don’t have to do that. You look good just like this.” He took a risk and stroked her long damp hair. He could smell the fruit scented shampoo she had used. Rianna let her nervousness fade and went up to her room to put her clothes on.
When she returned, Nick was looking at pictures of her family mounted on the wall. She stood near him and looked at them as well.
“What took you so long?” Nick asked.
“Had to put some lotion on. Being my color, you dry out--- get ashy pretty quickly.” They both smiled.
“Where are you from exactly?” Rianna went into the kitchen and got two glasses.
“I’m from Florida. But if your referring to my ethnicity... my father is Puerto Rican and my mother is black.” She called from the kitchen, filling the glasses with ice, then tea she had made earlier that day.
“You don’t really want help dancing do you?” Nick shook his head no and accepted the drink.
“I only came to see your angel face again. And I was hoping we could just talk.” Rianna put her glass down and ran her fingers through Nick’s blonde locks.
“You have nice hair. Come with me.” He followed her up to her room. There, he sat on her bed and looked around. There were candles there too. And a black light which gave the room a night club effect. Rianna went into her bathroom and returned with a comb and styling gel.
“What are you gonna do?” He asked.
“I’m gonna braid your hair. You’ll have an urban look. It’ll look sexy, trust me.” She snickered. She made him sit on the floor, then she sat on the bed directly behind him. She took the comb and parted his hair. He fell into a daze. He could feel the soft skin of her legs rubbing against his arms. Not to mention the fact that he absolutely loved it when girls did his hair.
“This feels so good, kinda relaxing.” Rianna looked down puzzled.
“What does?”
“Your fingers on my scalp. I love when girls play in my hair.” Rianna laughed and continued to braid. When she was finished, she massaged his shoulders.
“Wait, I should be doing this for you.” Nick said, He got up from the floor and sat on the bed behind her. Placing his hands on her warm shoulders. As he massaged her back area, Rianna drifted off to sleep, falling back into Nick’s arms.
“My little angel.” He whispered into her ear, laying her back on the pillows and covering her up. He found a note pad on her desk and wrote her a little message. It read:
“Thanks for letting me chill with you. I really hope we can get together again sometime. Ok? I’ll see myself out. Later Rianna, Nick.”
He placed the note by her phone and left the room.
Chapter 5
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