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Sitting in the back of the limo as I awaited her reply with my heart jumping in my chest, I wasn’t sure how I expected her to react to the knowledge that it was me contacting her. I just…shit, I missed her. I’d been missing her for a long, long time, and honestly, I needed her. I’d just been picked up from the airport, and the first thing I did once I was settled in my seat was have the driver switch the radio to WHTS. The second thing I did was contact her.
YaGurlTemple: Where are you?
I bit down on my bottom lip and glanced up at the driver before returning my attention to the phone and typing out: Here. In Brownhaven.
YaGurlTemple: Why?
Me: You. You’re why. I’d like to see you.
YaGurlTemple: Oh.
Me: Can I see you? Breakfast after you get off work?
YaGurlTemple: No.
Damn, she didn’t even hesitate to turn me down.
YaGurlTemple: Why now, after all these years?
Shit. If I said I missed her, loved her, needed her, would I sound crazy? Of course, I would.
Me: I don’t know. Please agree to see me.
Nothing from her.
Ten minutes later, I was in my hotel room, and still, no reply from her. I was tired as hell, a side effect of a long flight, heightened anxiety, and fear that this trip would be moot, that I would leave this place as I came—without her, so I’d drifted off to sleep before I realized it. Hours later, I awoke to a direct message from Temple: Sam?
I quickly replied: Yes?
Her: Why are you contacting me now? And don’t say you don’t know again.
Me: I missed you. I’ve always missed you. Will you see me? Please.
Radio silence.
Me: Please, see me, love.
I stared at my phone for twenty minutes more before she finally sent: OK
2
Sampson
I first met her in Mississippi, in my hometown of Brownhaven. We were kids, me a year older than her. Her, several IQ points smarter than me. But despite that, we met in detention.
I was there because I was habitually late for first period since my bed didn’t like to release me most mornings. I’d later learn that she was there for slapping a boy who’d grabbed her ass. The teacher had only seen the slap and dismissed Temple’s side of the story.
The first thing I noticed about her was her hair. It was in a big Afro, a hairstyle I hadn’t seen on many high school girls. Hell, every female I knew back then had a perm or straight weave, but not her. She didn’t have on makeup either, but she was beautiful. Shit, breathtaking with brown skin that seemed to glow, beautifully sculpted lips, and wide eyes. I remember wondering if she was a new student because she had to be. There was no way possible that she’d flown under my radar all those years. I definitely would have noticed her.
She made it to the cafeteria late for detention, head held high, popping gum, and attitude on tilt. She didn’t have to open her mouth for me to know that. She oozed attitude along with confidence and beauty. I was fucking captivated, absolutely amazed by her, and I never stopped feeling that way.
Never.
In the here and now, as I sat in the hotel’s restaurant awaiting her arrival, anticipation made it hard for me to sit still. I was going to see her, be in her presence again after decades of disparity. My anticipation was off the charts!
I sensed her, felt her unique energy before I found myself watching her approach my table. Her appearance gave me chills, her aura made me feel light-headed, and in an instant, I felt like I was sitting in detention, beholding her majesty for the first time.
She was still so impossibly beautiful. No Afro now, her hair wavy and hanging past her shoulders, muted lipstick adorning her thick lips. She wore a tight leather dress with short black boots, her shapely legs on full display, and she was still absolutely gorgeous. Her eyes were rimmed in black, and her thick eyelashes fluttered as she stopped short of sitting down, her gaze fixed on me, her flawless mahogany skin shimmering.
