Girls Need Love

Chapter 7

"My type?" I eye the notepad, and then him, my eyebrows furrowed.

"Yes, what type of men do you like?"

"I . . . Uh," what type of men do I like?

"Okay, I guess I could be more specific," he says, "tall or short?"

"Doesn't matter," I reply and he raises his eyebrows.

"Really? That's a first," he writes it down.

"No racial preference right?" I shake my head and he writes it down as well.

"Let me tell you why this is a waste of time," I place my palm on his notepad, "I don't care about looks. I mean you can't be just beyond all reasoning ugly, but it's okay if you aren't the most handsome. If you can provide company, and make me laugh, then that's okay with me."

"So . . . That narrows us down to more than a billion people," I roll my eyes as he continues to write on his stupid notepad. I aggressively slap it out of his hand and he gapes.

"Hey!"

"Just shut up," I stand to throw away the trash, and he follows.

"Okay, fine. So, have you agreed to me helping you?"

"I believe that I have," I tell him as I open my refrigerator.

"Perfect. I have a great idea."

I turn around, a bottle of wine in my hand.

"Blind dates."

"Hm."

I wasn't so fond of blind dates, mainly because I didn't like to be surprised. I liked to talk to the person a little beforehand, so that I had an idea of what they were like.

"Oh, come on. This is perfect for you," he continues, plopping onto one of my kitchen stools, "your not picky, and you don't necessarily have a preference. I think it'll give you an opportunity to meet 'the one'."

"I'll think about it." I tell him, grabbing the wine glass and he sighs exasperation.

"Fine, fine."

I tip the wine into my mouth as he grins.

"As soon as I get home I'll call up come some candidates."

"I know I said no preferences but can they at least not be criminals?"

"Why would I put you with criminals?"

I shrug, "it just seems like those are the only friends you'd have, with your profession and all."

The last thing I wanted was a man running to my house after 3 in the morning because the cops was chasing him.

"The worst part is, you're being serious," Tristan says, shaking his head and I snort.

"Anyway, this does have a timeframe."

"What?"

"This," I point between him and I, "if all of your dates are unsuccessful after 30 days, then I don't wanna do it anymore."

"I think that's fair."

"Oh, and I'm only going on about four blind dates."

He purses his lips.

"Fine, I'll find other ways."

His phone rings, and I subtly try to see the phone number, but he's quick. He excuses himself, going outside to answer it.

Five minutes and four wine glasses later, he returned.

"I have to leave," his demeanor changed as he grabbed his shoe and pull them on.

"Oh, okay."

I watch as he grabs his jacket and leaves, slamming the door behind him.

Well . . . That wasn't weird.

I wasn't so sure what to do, so I just whistled, placing the wine back in the fridge, and heading back to the interesting series that was Good Girl.

#

The weekend rolled in quickly, and I hadn't seen Tristan for the rest of the week since he visited my house.

I didn't want to ask Wendy if he had called or anything, because she would take it the wrong way.

I wanted to go shopping for some plain yogurt for a diy Turmeric mask but it was raining cats and dogs outside.

Nevertheless I loved this type of weather, it was comforting and gave me a break from the constant heat. I silently thought about getting a pet while I called my mom, maybe a golden retriever.

Call declined.

She must've pressed it on accident.

I call again, but she declines once more.

"I'm busy," she texts, "you should be too."

Ouch.

I let out a loud obnoxious noise, laying back in bed. I thought about calling Amar, but he was so annoying. All he did was brag about his wife, knowing that I had trouble being one myself.

I hate it here.

Deciding that I'd have to brave the rain, I pulled on some sneakers and grabbed my umbrella from under my bed. My hair was a mess, so I threw my bonnet on.

I run outside towards my uber, and the rain decides then and there to pour out of the sky even Harder. I shriek as I drop my house keys, the rain trying it's Hardest to pierce through the umbrella.

After retrieving my keys, I quickly try to close my umbrella before practically throwing myself in the car.

The driver chuckles at my appearance, as I heave in the backseat. I immediately felt relaxed when I realized it was another black woman.

"The rain almost got to you out there, huh," I chuckle, letting out my final harsh, stroke ridden breath.

"So, where are we going?"

"Uh, you can drop me off at the Cardington Mall.

"Got you, please buckle up."

#

"Thanks again," I tell the woman. It was a pleasant experience riding with her, she had a really nice smile and offered me the aux cord.

I tipped her and took her number so I knew who to call anytime I needed a ride.

Upon entering the mall, I placed my umbrella in the entrance holder, and then happily went on my way. I didn't normally work on Saturday, unless we were really busy. The mall was filled with Teenagers, as expected, but I really just wanted to gaze around.

There was nothing else for me to do with my day, and I had no friends.

I walked around at first, window shopping until I came across a store that seemed to be my style.

I wandered among loose T-shirts' and criss cross leggings only to find that Tristan talking to the cashier. It had been a few days since I've seen him, so I was a little surprised that he was here.

I contemplated on whether I should approach him or not, he seemed to be in a serious conversation, almost as if he was scolding at her.

I was about to take my leave when the cashier looks up to spot me practically staring them out.

"What the hell are you looking at?" She snaps, and I raise an eyebrow. Tristan turns around and notices me as well.

"Amari?" I step out from behind the racks, and although I felt a little awkward, there was nothing for me to feel embarrassed about. He was the one who was in a women's clothing store.

"You know here?" The woman asks and he nods.

"What're you doing here?" Tristan asks me and I knit my eyebrows together.

"I'm shopping," I tell him, "why are you here?"

"This is my niece, Gordon," I stare at the woman, well, maybe she wasn't a woman just yet, but she didn't look far from it.

“Gordon, this is my friend, Amari.”

Gordon didn’t seem to like me much, and I really couldn’t care less. Teenagers could often be the rudest, most hostile creatures I have ever encountered. Most times their animosity is uncalled for, just unnecessary and senseless.

When I was younger, I was as quiet as a fish, but anyone who approached me respectfully would get a smile and a calm greeting. There was no reason for me to hate any, and everyone.

“Nice to meet you,” she says, faking a smile. She rolls her eyes before look back at Tristan.

“Now would you both excuse me, I’m at work and this is very unprofessional.”

Tristan sighs loudly, eyeing her for a moment before turning towards me.

He nods towards outside and I take the hint, walking out with him.

“What was that all about?” I ask him, as we lean against the railing. I noticed that he was still in his working attire, his badge handing from his neck. Tristan looked neat as usual, and I tried not to stare too much.

“She’s been skipping school, I got a call from her teacher yesterday.”

“She’s a teenager,” I deadpan and he scoffs.

“So? Thats not an excuse to be delinquent.”

“How many times has she done it?”

“This was the first time tome I’ve been called-“

“Tristan — ,”

“But this could lead to a habit, and a bad one at that.”

“Well, that’s true,” I nod my head side to side, “but maybe there’s something else going on, talk to her about it before scolding her. She’ll listen to her fun uncle before the strict one.”

Tristan sighs, rubbing his forehead.

I glance over to the food court, and then at a stressing Tristan.

“Do you wanna drink some milkshakes?”

“Huh?”

“Do you wanna drink some milkshakes?” I ask again, pointing to the food court and he smiles.

“S-sure.”

“Come on.”