HEY MOONBEAMS! THIS IS A PREVIEW OF MY OTHER BOOK COLOR BLIND!
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Just as Lucky's eyes began to flash, though, they cleared and looked right past me. His total appearance changed, and it was then that I realized what a two faced, lying, son of a...well, you get the picture...that he really was. While he was still distracted, I moved out of the way and turned to see what he was looking at. Some flouncy blond chick was be-bopping her way over to us, hands full of food.
For a brief, ignorant second, I wondered if Lucky was like a rabid dog, that could only be pacified by food. Finally, the girl flounced her way over to the car and handed my "boyfriend" his tray.
"Hey baby," she said.
"Wassup?" he drawled. I wanted to cut out his optical nerves and make him eat his own eyeballs when I saw them crawl down the front of her flimsy shirt.
I didn't say anything, though, and waited for the little trick to give me my food. Finally, she noticed me standing there and, without tearing her eyes off of Lucky, she shoved the tray in my general direction. Apparently she shoved it too hard, because the tray hit the hood of Lucky's precious candy apple Mustang with a clatter. Food flew everywhere, the milkshake straight at me.
"Oops! Sor-ry!" she called in her singsong voice, still not even stealing a glance my way.
I was too busy watching Lucky to give a rat's behind about the waitress, though. I remember thinking that he was really going to blow up then, and right at her. But a strange thing happened after that. His accusing eyes shot towards me, like it was my fault for not going out for a long to catch the tray.
Then Little Miss Go-Go Boots put her hand on his chest and breathed, "I'm really sorry."
Lucky just smiled at her and said, "Don't worry. Rica will clean it up, won't you, babe?"
He looked over at me and flashed his million-dollar smile. I wouldn't have paid green stamps for it right then. Then he started flirting with Go-Go boots right there in front of me! I was still a little rattled from our fight and had a hard time thinking straight, so I just stood there like a dumbass and gawked at them. I wasn't even as mad at the girl as I was at Lucky for disrespecting me in front of her, and that fact alone was all that mattered.
"Do it now," Lucky's voice boomed, snapping me back to attention, "before it ruins the finish!"
He looked over at the girl and rolled his eyes. Then, get this, he put his arm around her waist and walked away! She looked back at me and giggled. After they walked off, I did something that to this day I can't understand. I actually went into Lucky's car, got out a rag and started cleaning up the mess. Without a word! Without a look! Nothing! At first, I was just in this daze. It wasn't so much what they had just done that got me, but what I had done. I couldn't believe that not only had I just let that slide, but then I actually started cleaning his car! The more I thought about it, the angrier I got.
Sometimes it takes a while for my temper to kick in, but when it does...
"Need any help?" I heard a voice behind me ask.
"Nope," I answered without stopping. Remembering my manners, I looked up from the headlights. Headlights! I was polishing the headlights! "No thank you," I said, a little nicer this time.
I was kind of surprised to see that the guy standing beside me was white, and looked back down quickly before my eyes reached his face. I was even more surprised when the guy knelt down beside me and gently removed the rag from my hands.
"You know, you shouldn't let him treat you like that," he said and began wiping off the bumper.
I stared at him in disbelief. Who did this white boy think he was to interrupt me in the middle of what I was doing and just take over? Then, on top of everything else, he had the nerve to try and tell me how I should let other people treat me? Like I usually let people walk all over me like that! Hells no. He had the exact wrong one.
The guy looked over at me and smiled. All of his teeth were perfectly straight, except for the two incisors, which were a little further forward and longer than the rest. They made him look like a dangerous little kid. I looked away after examining his teeth and couldn't bring myself to smile back.
Instead, I blurted out "Who are you, and what do you want?"
"Scott," he said smoothly, like we were having an everyday conversation and I should have already known who he was. He looked expectantly at me, but I didn't notice.
"What do you know about my boyfriend, Scott?" This time, I peered through the shadow that the black baseball cap was casting across his face and looked him dead in his eye. He seemed oddly familiar.
"Boyfriend?" he snorted, then saw my face and quickly went back to wiping off the bumper.
"Why do you even care anyway? Who are you? Captain Save-A-Ho?" I just blurted it out and immediately felt bad for taking my boyfriend's foolery out on this guy.
Not even a little bit fazed, my random Good Samaritan gazed at me without expression. "No, not even. I just figured that you're not a ho, so why let some asshole treat you like one?" He looked back down at the car and began polishing again. "I'm just sayin,' if you were my girl..."
"Well, I'm not," I cut him off quickly. Some little mack-daddy Vanilla Ice wannabe trying to pick me up was the last thing I needed right then.
"Yeah, that's unfortunate..." he drawled, then added "I just meant women shouldn't be treated like that." He lowered his eyes and shrugged. "Well, that's the way I see it, anyway."
Watching this guy, I realized what it was about him that was bugging me so much. The kid did look familiar as hell, but that wasn't it. If I hadn't been staring straight at him, I would have sworn he was black. Not that he sounded that way; he just didn't sound like the other white people around Mo' City. He had sort of a northern accent, but I wasn't exactly sure from where.
Don't tell anybody, but I used to think the artist formerly known as Marky Mark - you know, the rapper turned actor - had the sexiest voice on earth. It was very mellow, and even at the height of intensity, it never went much above a bedroom voice. When I wasn't looking, this guy sounded just like him. At the same time, though, his clipped northern drawl was interrupted by a slight southern twang. I figured he was probably one of those b-boys trying to make himself seem like an out-of-towner to appear more mysterious. I had already met my share of white boys like that, which is probably why I didn't like this kid from the start.
I was still looking at him, trying to figure out what he wanted and where I knew him from when my soon to be ex-boyfriend returned. He snuck up from behind and pulled me up, giving me a long hard kiss. I wasn't expecting this and pushed him away. Just to get back at me, he kissed me again twice as hard and nearly gagged me with his tongue. Then he looked pointedly at the white guy – at the time I couldn't remember his name – to make sure that he knew I was taken. This reminded me of how much I hated Lucky and I looked away in disgust.
Scott took the hint, which is more than I could say for my "boyfriend" at the time. He smiled respectfully at Lucky, then me, and handed the rag back to me. He nodded his head and said, "Ma'am," then walked off.
Scott was just so cool about the whole thing that I couldn't help but watch him go. As I did, Lucky's eyes burned into the side of my face. I looked back at him, matching the expression. He decided to temporarily let it go and opened the passenger door.
"Get in."
I didn't move.
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