“Saturday, early in the evening— so you’ll come with right?”
“Yeah like I ever miss one, but I’ll see you there. One of us actually has to work for a living. Do you need the bathroom before I start getting ready?”
He doesn’t even bother answering as he takes off in mad dash to the bathroom. I really wish we had gotten a place with two bathrooms so we wouldn’t have to share. “Turn the fan on!”
Trust me if you had to share a bathroom with my brother you’d want to make sure the fan is on. Men are pigs, plain and simple.
I straighten up our tiny place; it doesn’t take much to keep it livable even with my slob of a brother. Neither of us are usually home long enough to make a mess.
I get the kitchen trash taken to the dumpster and call Tiff to get her take on shit with Royce.
“Tiff I’m dying here. Royce wants me back. What do I do?”
“What do you want to do? Do you love him? Honestly, I think you’re too good for him.”
“I know buuttt… he was so genuine and he was sweet like he used to be,” I whine.
“Don’t get sucked back into his bullshit. I just don’t want to see him hurt you again.”
I mull over her words. A part of me knows she’s right. Royce had a hard time letting me all the way in. However, a deeper part of me knows that I love him. He’s in my bones and I can’t get him out. I will have to sort this on my own. No one can choose for me as much as I wish they could.
“Okay enough about me. How are you?’
I grab my keys while Tiffany chews my ear off about Kline not calling her since the other night.
“Tiff I warned you, you know what kind of guy my brother is. But here I am calling you asking if I should take Royce back when he’s more of a dick than Kline,” I grumble feeling more agitated by Royce by the second.
She laughs. “We got it bad for them bad boys with tattoos that like to throw down.”
“I know, kill me now. I gotta get out the door or I’m going to be late for my hair appointment. I’ll talk to you later, and maybe I’ll tell my brother to get his head out of his ass, and call you. Love you, mean it.”
We always end our calls with that line. We’ve been saying it since the tenth grade when we had a horrible falling out. I can’t even remember what we were fighting about at the time. We had gone weeks without speaking until tragedy st
ruck our circle of friends. One of our classmates was killed in a hit and run. It made us realize to always make sure we tell the people we love most that we really love them no matter what. Nothing in this life is guaranteed.
I give up getting to use the bathroom knocking on the door I yell, “I’m leaving shithead. Don’t forget to call your girlfriend asshole!”
**
“Girl that brother of yours is one fine piece of man candy. You let him know that Roberto is single and ready to mingle.”
“If he starts looking for a fine piece of man candy I’ll let you know.” I roll my eyes on the inside.
He grins. “So what’s good girl? I see you on Insta getting comments from all them sexy ass motherfuckas. Any of them batting for my team?”
I should seek him on OZ for giggles, but I won’t.
Roberto is such a cut up. He has been doing my hair for a few years now. He and the girls are always teasing me about Kline. Shit, I feel like I can’t go anywhere without someone wanting me to hook them up with my brother in some shape or form.
“Not that I know of but I’ll keep an eye out for you.” I wink as he takes the cape from around my neck and brushes my shoulders off.
I leave the salon with new highlights in my hair and a new French manicure. I still haven’t had a bite to eat no thanks to Kline hogging the bathroom earlier.
I would hate to eat something heavy before my audition. I decide to hit up Healthy Vines, my favorite. This place is always crowded, I can’t ever get a decent table, but the food is definitely worth it. Scanning the dining area for a table I spot Royce of all people. I hope he doesn’t see me. Maybe I’ll ask for my food to go instead. I’m not above eating in my car if it means avoiding a run in with him right now, when his words are still too fresh. It’s hard to tell him no.
I have got to be one of the unluckiest people in Vegas. “Brandi,” Royce calls my name, and waves me over to the table he is sharing with a few of his asshole buddies. What makes them assholes? When Royce and I broke-up they came into the gym and made asses of themselves. They treated me like a hooker—a piece of ass they could do whatever they wanted with. Needless to say it didn’t go over well when I let it slip to Kline, fueling their rivalry further.
Weighing my options, I decide what’s the worst that can happen? We are in public. Maybe my luck will turn around. They could be getting ready to leave, and I can have their table. I look at my tray and sigh, here goes nothing.