ECPM Ch. 06: Too Sweet

PheroMoans

Chapter 6 TOO SWEET

Morning Friday

A sharp knock rattled the door, reverberating with a sense of urgency through the room. Another knock followed--louder, harder--insistent enough to pry Mark from the depths of sleep. He blinked, disoriented, the ceiling above him unfamiliar in the faint morning light. But then he became acutely aware of the warmth and weight of the woman lying across his chest, her steady breathing beginning to quicken as she stirred.

"Mom! Mom, are you alive in there?" The voice from the other side of the door was young, impatient, almost demanding--another knock and a louder one.

The woman blinked awake, her body stiffening as she registered the sound. She let out a groggy groan, propping herself up on her elbow. Her expression shifted from drowsiness to a sudden awareness that matched his own. Her gaze darted to him, a momentary flash of guilt or worry crossing her face before she gave a hurried nod.

"I'm awake!" she called through the door, her voice hushed but with an unmistakable undertone of urgency. "What's wrong, honey?"

The boy's voice came through muffled. "We're leaving for school--me and Matt. Just wanted to say bye."

Mark's heartbeat steadied slightly, and the reality of the situation settled over him as she fumbled out of bed, tugging the comforter around her shoulders. She pressed a finger to her lips to ensure Mark kept quiet. He watched as she padded softly across the room, the door's lock clicking open as she cracked it just enough to peer out at her son.

"Hey, kid," she whispered, a hint of relief coloring her tone.

"Mother," Aaron says.

"Nice hoodie you got there."

"Dad brought it."

"Okay, it's an ugly hoodie."

"Aaron, come on!" Matt screams.

Through the narrow opening, Aaron's eyes flickered curiously toward the dim room behind her. "Alright. See you later, Mom."

"Love you, Honey." She closed the door softly, letting out a long, slow exhale as she turned back toward the bed, meeting his gaze in the quiet that followed. The morning had begun with a jolt, but he sensed, beneath the initial shock, that this was just the beginning of a very long day.

"Well, I guess this is an awkward morning after sex?" Autumn says, peeking her head out of her bedroom door and going to the closed front door of her apartment. "They're gone." The thick cotton comforter dropped to the floor; Mark grinned at the sight of her exposed body.

"Nice," Mark says, his joints popping as he stretches his arm.

"They're gone," Autumn says, leaving the room. She looks back at the approaching Mark. "You hungry?"

Mark's eyes scanned her up and down. "I can eat." Autumn smiles, her eyes lighting up from the attention.

"Food. I'm talking about food." Autumn smirks.

"Define food." Mark wraps his arms around her waist, connecting his lips to her neck.

"Down, boy," Autumn says, wrapping her hand around his head. As the kiss stops, she holds her gaze at him.

"You okay," Mark says slowly, almost reluctantly. She looks away, and the faint glisten in her eyes betrays the truth.

"Yeah, just thinking. So, what do you want for breakfast?" Autumn leads him into the kitchen, opening the refrigerator. She bends over, not leaving much to the imagination for Mark's view as she searches.

"I feel like you're teasing me," Mark says, slapping her ass; Autumn takes it in stride as his handprint etched on her ass.

"Maybe. What time do you need to be at Lennox for your bratty friend again?"

"1000, it's currently 0730, so we got time."

"Do you like scramble bowls?"

"It's been a while since I had a scramble bowl."

"Great, sit in the living room, maybe put on some music. Helps me cook."

"Let me guess, country, right," Mark grabs the remote and scrolls to the country music channel.

"Wow. How racist of you to assume I listen to country music." Autumn says, rushing over to grab the remote and almost tripping over a small stepping stool.

"Careful," Mark says as she grabs the remote from his hand. She clicks a couple of channels over to the Metal station.

"Better, my ex was a country guy, which is one of the many reasons he had to go besides the cheating, eh." She says as the remote jettisons from her hand into his chest.

"Did he ever get physical with you?" Mark raises his eyebrows at his question as she turns around and walks back toward the kitchen.

"yeah," she says almost in a whisper. "I'm not going to tell my boys that, though, they love the asshole." Autumn cracks open some eggs into a pan.

"Well, that's nice of you, but shouldn't they know? I know if I were them, I would want to know."

"That's future Autumn's problem. Besides, he is living in hell paying that child support."

"If you say so," Mark says, sneaking up behind her...

"I thought I told you to go in the living room. I can't concentrate with you behind me like that."

"You want some help."

"Oh, you can cook?" She turns her head into another kiss.

"I'm a world-star Michelin Chef."

"A world-star chef working at Everyday Earth makes sense to me." Autumn let out an unexpected laugh, the sound bright and high-pitched as his fingers found that sensitive spot on her sides. "Stop, I'm going to burn myself."

"I'll kiss it. Let me make the grits."

"Fine, but don't disappoint me. Also, how do you like your eggs?"

"Sunny side up, I'm feeling froggy."

"Well, leap over to the cabinet to get the grits."

The kitchen filled with the soft clinks of dishes as the early morning hummed quietly. Mark stood by the stove, stirring a pot of creamy grits. His movements were unhurried. He added a sprinkle of salt and a generous pat of butter, watching as they melted into the bubbling mixture.

Beside him, she cracked another egg into the skillet. She glanced over at him, grinning as he stole a peek at her work with an approving nod.

They moved comfortably around each other, picking up where the other left off without a word. Mark leaned over Autumn's shoulder to grab a spoon, giving her a playful nudge as he checked the grits. She laughed, nudging him back, then turned her attention to slicing sausage links, adding them to the skillet. The smell of savory spices soon mingled with the eggs and grits, filling the air with a warm, mouthwatering aroma.

He gave the grits one last stir, the texture now thick and smooth, and set the pot on the counter, reaching for two bowls. She quickly layered in the fluffy scrambled eggs, adding bits of golden-brown sausage as he spooned a hearty helping of grits. They added a sprinkle of cheese, which brought the dish together.

With a satisfied sigh, they admired their work, a simple but delicious breakfast bowl perfectly blending their efforts. Autumn grabbed two spoons and handed Mark one as they leaned against the counter, sharing bites and laughing softly. They savored both the meal and the cozy, unhurried rhythm of the morning.

"Damn, you did these grits up," Autumn says, pointing her spoon at Mark.

"Thank you, Thank you." Mark gives a playful bowl. "I used to watch the Food Network religiously with my mom."

"Ah, a mama's boy explains a lot."

"Shut up; like I was saying, I practiced recipes alone during summer break. My friend Emma was my guinea pig.

"Lucky her."

"You should have seen me the first time my dad and Mom had me cook; I was in tears."

"Ahh." Autumn chuckles. "Poor baby."

"God, I was such a little bitch then."

"Well, that changed the mood." Autumn tilts her head. "A little harsh on yourself; there is nothing wrong with being sensitive. I make sure I let my boys know that."

"Sure, If you say so."

"I do, Mark Morgan, if you ever need a shoulder to cry on."

"I just figured that was part of the reason I was walked over most of my life, why I was a virgin."

"Well, you're not a virgin, and I don't think anyone walks over you anymore." Autumn places a hand on his shoulder. "I'm not joking when I say if we met in a different lifetime, I would probably be head over heels for you." Her hands rested on his chest. "Probably why I'm jealous of that girl. She reminds me of me."

"Rosa?"

"Yeah, I was pompous and full of myself back then, too. I had every guy in the palm of my hand, but then I got pregnant, and everything changed." Her hands fell to her sides. "Now I'm old, a single mother, and..."

"Hey," Mark says, lifting her sunken chin with his right hand. You're beautiful and an awesome mom." A faint smile forms on her face.

"Thank you, sexual chocolate," she laughs. "Alright, I'm going to clean up; the last thing I need is to leave a mess, and Matt starts jawing off about double standards.

"Let me help."

"No, you're my guess."

"I get that, but."

"Stop. I got it..." She says, grabbing his left hand and leading him to the couch. "Sit down."

Autumn returns to the kitchen; the sink turns on as dishes are arranged to be cleaned. Mark watches her naked body move around the kitchen. The soft clinking of dishes and running water filled the kitchen as she rinsed plates, her focus on the task at hand. Behind her, he lingered on the couch, watching her with a small, knowing smile that hinted at something more. The playful gleam in his eyes seemed to shift, his posture growing more self-assured as he stepped forward, his footsteps barely audible over the sounds of the running water.

He moved up behind her slowly, the soft creak of the floorboards giving her a split-second warning before his hands found her waist. His touch was both gentle and unmistakably assertive. She glanced over her shoulder, her eyebrows slightly surprised, but he just smiled. His hands slid around her hips, anchoring her in place with quiet, unspoken confidence.

A low hum of approval escaped him as he leaned in, his breath warm against her neck. "I can't help myself," he murmured, voice smooth with mischief, "but I thought I'd remind you just how good you look in the kitchen."

She laughed softly, her hand still hovering over the sink, but her attention was now entirely on him. The clinking of dishes faded into the background as he leaned closer, one hand slipping to her shoulder, his thumb brushing a slow circle along her collarbone. The rhythmic, steady water drip into the sink marked the pause between them, a heartbeat of anticipation thickening the air.

Autumn spread her legs and lifted her heels off the floor as she pressed lightly against the counter. His gaze held hers, steady and intent, a flicker of challenge and invitation in his eyes. His erect member pressing against her entrance, Mark spits on his hands, glazes his dick.

"Please, Fuck me." Autumn noticed a shift in his eyes after the words left her mouth. He enters, and she grips the counter and skips a breath. The loud slap of his thigh and her ass colliding, a toothy moan as he moves back and forth into her. She knew she was at his mercy and wouldn't have it any other way. His grip around her waist grew tighter with each thrust. She is no longer able to contain her moans as each thrust reaches deeper into her guts.

A swift slap to the side of Autumn's ass catches her off guard. It was harder than the playful one earlier, this one more primal, urgent." Take this dick." Mark says confidently. Autumn looks back at him, unsure who this person is anymore. "Let it out, aint no one hears but us." Mark urges her. "Tell me you want it."

Autumn begins to squirm as her eyes close, and she grits her teeth. "Speak," Mark barks at her with another hard slap that echoes throughout the room. Autumn's knees begin to meet, and she turns to look at Mark with fury. Fluid drips down from her vagina onto the floor as her legs twitch.

"You mad?" Mark smiles at her. "Don't get mad at me 'cause you're leaking all over the kitchen; you feed your kids." He grabs the back of her head as she surrenders to his thrust and falls to her knees as her legs give out.

Autumn looks up at him, out of breath, as his dick meets her lips. She opens her mouth as Mark pushes his dick into it. She keeps eye contact, a mixture of lust and anger in her eyes. As he groans, his sperm shoots into her mouth, coating the back of her throat. She lets out a cough and collects herself briefly on the floor. Mark let out a sigh, his head still hung in the air.

The initial rush--the confidence, sense of control, and power he felt at that moment -- was still pulsating through him. Still, as the adrenaline began to ebb away, a heavy silence followed. His chest, once tight with exhilaration, now felt hollow. His confident stance began to soften, his posture shifting slightly as if the weight of his actions had suddenly become too much to carry.

Autumn glanced over, her heart still racing. Her mind was caught between exhilaration and the tiniest twinge of something unnamable--a whisper of concern, perhaps, or a flicker of awareness that things had shifted.

Autumn slowly gets up from the floor, her eyes briefly evading his, but then she shakes it off. "You can clean yourself off in the bathroom. I got this in here."

"Right." Mark walks to the bathroom in the hallway. A slight panic overcomes him at his action, and he begins to bite his nails, his hands still coated with the wetness from her vagina. The smell crawled into his nose, returning him to the moment a few minutes ago. A slight smile formed on his face, but it quickly faded to guilt.

The car hummed as they merged onto the open road, the soft whirr of tires on asphalt filling the silence between them. She kept her gaze steady on the stretch ahead, one hand loosely gripping the wheel, her other resting on the console.

Beside her, he leaned against the window, watching the scenery blur past with an unreadable expression. Neither of them had spoken since they'd buckled in, and the unspoken words hung between them like static, crackling beneath the surface of the quiet.

Her fingers occasionally tapped gently against the steering wheel, a small gesture of thoughtfulness or maybe nerves. Mark glanced over once, catching her focused profile in the light streaming through the windshield. Then, he returned his gaze to the passing landscape, letting the silence settle again.

Mark breathes air out and begins to speak. "I'm sorry, Autumn." She raises her hand and cuts him off.

"Remember what I said about apologizing so much," Autumn says, her eyes still fixed on the road.

"Yeah, I get that, but this is different. I got carried away." Mark looks at his palm.

"Mark, you just fucked the ever-loving shit out of me. Like I was some slut in a porno."

"I."

"No, then you mentioned my kids while we were..."

"I fucked up and got carried away."

"Who are you?" Autumn says, turning to him as the car stops at a red light. "When I looked back at you, it was like you were different."

"I'm still me; I'm just evolving, I guess."

"Evolving, what are you a Pokémon and into what?"

"I don't know, okay. I just know I'm getting more and more confident in myself."

"That's good, but." Autumn closes her eyes, contemplating her thoughts. "Maybe that was too much, too visceral like you don't. That's not. Maybe we should stop."

"What?"

"I was thinking about this earlier when Aaron woke us up."

"You know what. Okay." Mark says

"O... Okay," Autumn repeats.

"You're right. I would be selfish if I tried to fight the; I don't want to hurt you, and maybe I already have. Autumn, I care about you and don't want to ruin our relationship."

"Our relationship? "

"Yeah, I don't know how to define it, but I just know I want you to feel safe; I want you to be loved; I care about you."

"This is the Mark I like... the other one wasn't bad earlier. It just caught me off guard. And don't mention my kids like that again." She sighs. "I know your going through a lot."

"I'm fine."

"Are you. don't.. just be careful and don't forget who you are Mark?"

"Do you hate me?" Mark says his eyes squinting slightly.

"I could never hate you after everything you've done for me." Autumn smiles at him. "It's just all of this is because a little to real for me at least."

"This is real isn't it."

"Mark I don't think your ready for that."

"Well were here. I guess I will see you at work then," Autumn says before pulling him into a deep hug over the middle console. She looks at him, both tempted to kiss, but their minds know better.

As he stepped away from the car, she watched him with a quiet intensity, her gaze lingering on his retreating form. The faint glow of the streetlights softened the edges of his silhouette, giving him a certain warmth that made her chest tighten.

Her fingers rested lightly on the steering wheel, gripping it tighter than she realized as if grounding herself against the pull to call him back. Her lips parted, a whisper of his name hovering there, but she stopped, letting the moment between them in silence.

He glanced back once, just a quick flicker of his eyes over his shoulder, and in that split second, she felt an ache that was both familiar and unspoken. She offered a small, wistful smile, a silent acknowledgment of everything left unsaid, and he nodded as though he'd heard her thoughts.

As he walked on, her eyes traced his steps, holding on to every detail: the slight slump of his shoulders, the way he shoved his hands into his pockets, the steady pace that carried him further away. She swallowed, a bittersweet feeling settling in her chest, as she finally released her grip on the wheel, her hand falling limply to her lap.

For a moment longer, she sat there, her gaze fixed on where he had disappeared into the shadows, her heart caught in a quiet longing that lingered even as the world moved around her.

Mark stepped through the mall's sliding glass doors, the hum of people and the faint scent of fresh coffee drifting through the air to greet him. The polished floors reflected the overhead lights, and he navigated the crowd with practiced ease. His pace was steady and purposeful as he scanned the signs above each store.

Passing by a cluster of families and a few teens lingering by the fountain, he barely glanced at the storefronts, his gaze fixed ahead. His destination was just ahead, between a clothing store with loud pop music blaring and a perfume shop spilling floral scent waves into the air.

He weaved through the bustling crowd of shoppers, finally spotting the familiar sign of his destination. With a quick breath, he straightened his shoulders. He strode forward, pushing open the glass door and stepping inside, ready for whatever awaited him. Although he looked focused, his mind was racing from his past actions.

{Evolving? What the fuck am I talking about? She's not wrong. This change is the second time I noticed something happening, with Bonita and Smoke and then in the kitchen. I practically raped her. What the hell is wrong with me.? I feel like I want to throw up. It's Autumn Jesus; how can I ever face her again? Wait. What if Emma felt the same way? Oh my God, that's it.}

Dark thoughts take hold of his mind as his eyes wander around with each step forward until a familiar voice snaps him out of them.

"Mark Morgan!" Rosa approaches with her usual disappointed gaze. "Where the hell have you been? Your roommate said you weren't home last night?"

"Oh yeah, I was out at a friend?"

"You only have three friends, Mark."

"Wait, are you counting?" The math brings a smile to his face, much to her chagrin. "Are you ready for this interview, Rosy?"

"Don't call me that; of course, I'm ready." He watched as she adjusted her blazer, her fingers nervously smoothing down the fabric, and for a moment, he was taken aback. The usual playful spark in her eyes was softened, replaced with focused determination and quiet confidence. The tailored jacket hugged her shoulders perfectly, and the blouse beneath added an understated elegance that made her seem... different. More polished, more serious.

Rosalind had pulled her hair back neatly, tucked behind her ears, revealing a slight tension in her expression that only he would notice. She shifted on her heels, glancing up to meet his gaze, an almost shy smile breaking through her composed demeanor.

"Well, how do I look?" she asked, her voice a mix of nerves and eagerness.

He chuckled softly, shaking his head in quiet admiration. "Like Rosalind fucking Rodriguez-Mendez he said, his smile widening. "You look like you're ready to take on the world." And for the first time, he found himself genuinely believing it.

"God, that's a mouthful."

"It's your full name, embrace it."

"Don't tell me what to do?" {I'm so proud of her getting on the train alone, especially in that. Surprised she didn't get snatched... God, that's dark but accurate in our current climate. Mark thinks while still staring at Rosalind. "You got something to say over there," Rosalind says as they stop in front of the store entrance.

"No, I'm proud of you; we both know you will kill it."

"Oh, well, thanks."

"I'm gonna get some coffee. Text me when you're done."

Rosalind takes a breath and nods. Mark watches her walk inside. A large display blocks the person with whom she is engaged in a conversation. He slowly turns and walks away, hoping for the best for his friend.

Inside the store, Rosalind is greeted by the front store clerk, a young Asian woman named Rin.

Mark sat in the food court, one leg bouncing with a mix of nerves and anticipation as he watched the corridor where she'd disappeared earlier. His matcha green tea latte was long empty, but he held onto the cup, turning it idly in his hands as he glanced up every few seconds, hoping to see her reappear.

Finally, he spotted her walking toward him, her steps purposeful but slightly quicker than usual. She was still in her interview outfit, but her shoulders looked somewhat more relaxed, her expression softening as she met his gaze. He stood as she approached, reading her face for clues. Was she relieved? Anxious? Excited? He couldn't quite tell, but there was a flicker of something bright in her eyes.

"Well?" he asked, raising his eyebrows, a hopeful grin breaking through despite himself.

She took a breath and let out a small, triumphant smile. "I'm hired." She sat in the chair across from him, and her smile faded.

"What's wrong? The impending dread of having a job finally weighing you down?"

"No, it's not that." Rosa tilts her head back. "I only got the job because he owed my father a favor. I didn't earn it myself; I can't do anything without my father, the Mendez name. I love to say this and that about it. But sometimes it's daunting..." Her shoulders sagged, and a sigh slipped out, barely audible, as her disappointment sank, a hollow ache spreading. "Look at me clinging to you like a little girl looking for guidance. I'm surprised you haven't taken advantage of me."

Mark's eyebrows shot up, and a surprise flickered across his face as he processed her words. For a moment, he was silent, his mouth opening as though he was about to respond, but nothing came out.

He blinked, glancing at her to see if she was serious, but her steady gaze gave him no reassurance. "The fuck are you talking about?" He finally managed, his voice quieter than he intended, the words laced with an unexpected vulnerability that surprised even him.

"I'm nothing without my father's money; hell, you made pretty much those statements, didn't you? I'm just a girl, a stupid girl who can't pick the right friends, who let her ex-boyfriend record her while he..." Rosalind bawls her fist up.

"Hey, Rosy, I'm gonna call you Rosy."

"Please don't."

"No, be Rosy. Define Rosy. Be that independent woman; succeed on your own. No matter how you got this job, it's still up to you to decide what you make it to be. Be the best damn sales clerk in that bitch. Like I know you can be."

As the words of encouragement settled over her, she felt a sudden warmth bloom in her chest, spreading slowly to her throat and eyes. She blinked quickly, trying to hold back the emotion, but the welling emotion was relentless. It pooled in her eyes until they sparkled with unshed tears.

A shaky smile tugged at her lips as she glanced away, swallowing hard to maintain her composure. But one tear escaped, trailing down her cheek before she could catch it. She brushed it away with the back of her hand, letting out a soft, tremulous laugh. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice thick with gratitude. She could barely contain the relief and appreciation that filled her heart. She hugged him tightly and kissed his cheek, then paused momentarily.

"Well, are you ready to go to school?"

"No."

The train ride was a blur, a quiet hum of early afternoon bustle. Outside, above the train stop, the streets gradually filled with students heading in the same direction, their voices blending into the familiar rhythm of the day.

The energy shifted as the school appeared, a sprawling building framed by neatly trimmed hedges.

Inside the classroom, Miss Zenith stared into her phone, facetiming someone else on the other side.

"Emmalyn, I know you will do well on this assignment. Don't forget to send me a picture of that temple. I'm interested in the aesthetic; oh, Mark is here." Miss Zenith gestures for Mark to come over. He hesitates at the name momentarily but quickly approaches her..

"Ems." Mark's face settles on the blank screen.

"Oh, the call must have dropped; it is quite late over there on the other side of the world."

"Right, or she hung up," Mark says, slumping his shoulder.

"I didn't realize you, too, were fighting."

"Something like that. How often does Emma call you? If you don't mind me asking."

"Often, usually before bed, if she struggles with an assignment. I always welcome a call from one of my favorite students. I would venture to say she is my favorite. We have been out on some excursions in the past. She has seen a different side of me on an occasion."

"Do tell."

"Stop it, I don't recall asking to be teased, Mr. Morgan."

"No one ever does, Zelda. Don't worry about Ems and me; it's probably for the best. I guess."

"If you don't want me to get involved, I won't."

"Cool."

"So, tell me, Mark, what ideas have you come up with?"

"Well, Z."

"I don't like nicknames."

"Miss Z." She chuckles.

"You saw how engaged Rosy and I got with our presentation."

"You love giving female nicknames. Is that some form of mechanism?"

"Potentially."

"Ahhh, continue."

"Right, well, we made a personal connection with the work. Maybe try letting your students incorporate things they love into the work instead of handcuffing them to the lesson plan."

"But I spend months working the lesson plan curating for perfection."

"In there is nothing wrong with it. It's transforming what you have into something more."

"Maybe they need to learn this isn't high school; it's college, and I can't hold their hands through the lesson. Life isn't going to hold your hand; things are going to happen. You need to rise above and grow up. What would you like me to create games out of history? Surely it's your joke? If they want games like a play box."

"Playbox?"

"Or a Tik Tok."

"Got that right."

"Then perhaps they stay their ass home."

"Well, Zelda, isn't that your problem? In fact, they are staying home, avoiding your class."

"Shit." Zelda mouths.

"Zelda, your class is hard; most kids don't like adversity these days."

"You're hurting my pride."

Mark moves in closer and places a hand on her shoulder. Zelda looks up at him, her expression stern but soft. "I'm not trying to undermine you; I want to help," Mark says

Zelda lets out a soft sigh and hangs her head low. "I asked for this, and"

"And that's why I'm here. In the words of Michael Jordan, we will try something new, and if it doesn't work." Mark looks at the door as his classmates file inside the room. "Fuck them, Kids."

Zelda scrunches her face and tilts it towards Mark. "Aren't you one of those kids?" Mark smirks at her, walking towards his desk. Rosa takes her seat next to him and gives him a side-eye. After everyone gets settled into their seats, Miss Zenith begins to speak in front of the class.

Miss Zenith clears her throat. "Good afternoon, everyone." In her brief pause, her eyes linger on Mark. Rosa's eyes bounce back and forth between the teacher and friend. "I want to try something new; I realize that some of you are not as enthused about art history as me. So, I'm willing to meet you during our next assignments. Just bear with me on this because this will be new for me as much as it is for you." Miss Zenith says, with a smile in the center of the room, fixed on one person. "All right now, please take out your Art History books and turn to"

Sometimes, it passes by as class wraps up.

"For homework, I want you to review the artwork on page 46. We'll start next class by examining what you see today in any artform that matches this artwork by Caravaggio." Miss Zenith says, checking her phone. Her face tightens, and she grips her phone and darts out of the class.

"Class dismissed, I guess," Rosa says, grabbing her stuff and grimacing at Mark. A loud growl comes from her stomach, and Rosa's eyes widen. Her eyes move from her stomach to Mark's smirking expression.

"Someone's hungry," Mark says with a small laugh. "You want to go get something."

Rosa shakes her head and walks toward the door." I don't need your charity, Morgan, " she says before walking out the door. Mark quickly grabs his bag and follows her out of the classroom.

"It's not charity Mendez. Rodriguez, whatever." He says, catching up to her. Besides, can you not keep up this mean girl thing? The whiplash is killing me."

Rosa whips her head back towards Mark. "I have food back home." She says before stopping at the student lounge entrance. She stops and murmurs. "Ugh, these bitches." Mark peers into the student lounge and sees some of Rosa's classmates. The look of dread on her face reminds him of high school; the expression and breathing pattern are the same as his whenever he saw Rosa and her friends.

Mark taps her side, bringing her out of her momentary lapse. "Let's go outside to kill time and get some fresh air." Rosa nods and follows him outside. They both pass Miss Zenith, who shakes her head in frustration and murmurs something under her breath as she walks inside. Rosa sits on the bench again outside as the center fountain fluctuates in the middle of the park behind her.

"God, I can go for some Tacos right now. Some good Tacos," Rosa says, her hands pressed on her stomach, her head tilted to the sky. Mark looks over at her, his mouth gasping as the sun hits her body and the fountain goes behind her. It was as if she were a piece of modern-day artwork.

"Damn." He says under his breath.

Rosa snaps her head back up to look at Mark with a smile on his face. "What, no racist comment about me wanting Tacos." She speaks. "What are you smiling about? Is something funny?"

Mark shakes his head. "No, just looking at something beautiful." Rosa's eyebrows shot up, eyes widening. She opened her mouth, but no words or sounds came out as she averted her eyes.

Mark sits beside her, trying to get back into her line of sight. "Stop it, you idiot," she says, her accent coming through as she grows more frustrated. Mark relents, pulls back and looks up at the sky.

"Look, how about after class? I go to Everyday and get stuff to make tacos. We can have it while we work on your project."

Rosa lets out a deep sigh. "Mark, you don't have to go broke for me." She gets up from the bench, eyes on the school entrance. "Besides, I got Maruchan ramen. I hate the stuff, but it will last until I get paid."

Mark stares at her and thinks...{Taco sets are on sale at Everyday right now and I have a little change left over and the added store discount. I could make her day; hell, she deserves it; she got her first job today. Damn, I never thought I would be somewhat excited to cook dinner for Rosalind. My world is changing at a breakneck pace. }

"Mark, we need to get down to the platform. The train should be coming, so quit daydreaming."

"Oh shit, you're right." They both hurry down the stairs, making small talk back to their apartment complex--the two parted ways, with plans to meet at Mark's apartment later tonight.

Mark continues his tirade of thoughts as he walks down the plaza to Everyday Earth. { Why did I fail Science of Light? It's so easy. I'm so mad at myself for wasting my time like this. I can't afford to waste any time. I don't have any safety net; I'm all I got when I'm gonna get that. Well, at least I stopped drinking and smoking like I used to before.. man, those were crazy times.} Mark walks inside Everyday Earth, and a row of new perspective workers are waiting to speak to the manager. "Man, I remember that day, I owe Autumn a lot for those early days. I wonder if she is working tonight, I never asked after... oh yeah, how could I forget about earlier? I'm a fucking blockhead. It's gotta be the cologne. It's changing me, but I can't stop putting it on. The feeling it gives me is intoxicating, like I... Jesus, maybe I'm addicted to it; no, it's just like a good luck charm. It's not actually working right, I'm stupid." Mark thinks aloud as passing another customer. "I need to keep this shit inside." He laughs nervously.

Mark finishes his shopping and makes his way to the check-out area. "There she is, Autumn." Mark places his stuff on the conveyor belt, and Autumn makes eye contact. Her eyes shift from him to the groceries she is scanning. "Hey Autumn, how.. so what's"

"Stop, just stop. We need a second, right?" Autumn says, looking around to ensure it's just them. I'm okay. I don't hate you at all. You don't need to ask. We just... what the hell are you doing here?"

The young teenager walks over to the counter, waving at Autumn. "Hey, mom."

"Matt, what are you doing here?" Autumn says, looking at him with a stern look.

"I wanted to surprise you, I applied for Everyday Earth."

"You applied. Who is going to watch Aaron?"

"Grandma, going to watch him. He's over there right now."

"Why..." Autumn groans before cutting herself off. Her eyes finally return to Mark, who recognizes the look on her face and interjects.

"Hey Matt, I'm Mark Morgan; it's nice to meet you," Mark says, offering his fist to pump to Matt.

"Oh, your Mark!?" Matt says ecstatically, then pumps Mark's fist. "Dude, I meant sir. I hear so much about you from Mom."

"Sir? Oh, wait. Do you?" Mark says, looking back at Autumn, who is shaking her head.

"He's exaggerating, and you need to pay your total, which is on the screen. Sir!." Autumn says, tapping the screen.

"So this is how you treat customers?" Matt says, leaning on the counter. Autumn tilts her head to the side, and he quickly rises. Mark pays her and helps bag his groceries.

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow, Autumn. It's nice to see you for the first time, Matt," Mark says, turning to look at Autumn and then back at Matt. I hope you get hired. We would be lucky to have you, fam.

"Thanks, Mr. Mark."

"Oh, just Mark or dude works perfectly, maybe not in front of your mom. You know how she gets."

"Code Mark, register one!" Autumn screams in the microphone. As the Assistant Manager comes out of his office, Mark escapes. As he leaves, Autumn's eyes narrow in on his fading frame, and a slight smirk forms on her face as her eldest son talks in the background.

Mark returns to the apartment after his short jaunt to the store. He looks around to see an empty apartment." Dave is probably at one of his girl's apartments or at Big Luke's getting high, either or doubt he will be back tonight." He turns and looks at his other roommate. Oh, that's right, he went home to see his grandma." Mark sits on the couch and relaxes; he looks at the clock. I can get a workout. Let me just prep the food quickly. Don't have to worry about Dave or what's his face eating it while I'm out for a second or two." Mark says, hopping off the couch and getting dressed in his gym attire.

A quick workout later....

Sweat clung to him as he swiped his key fob at the gym's exit, stepping into the cool hallway of his apartment complex. The post-workout ache settled in as he made the walk back.

When he reached his apartment, his shirt was damp, and his pulse was steady. He tossed his keys onto the counter, grabbed a towel from the hallway closet, and ran it over his face before heading straight for the kitchen. The fridge hummed as he pulled it open, and cool air brushed his skin. It was time to start dinner, so he pulled out the groceries he had brought from Everyday Earth.

He turns the stove nearest eye on to high, placing a skillet on it, and drips oil in the center. As the oil gets hot, he looks at his ingredients. After years of trial and error, he makes his famous patent-pending ground beef taco recipe with Emma as a test subject. He continues to cook as he runs into his room and turns the shower on. He looks at the clock and realizes it is almost time for Rosalind to arrive. He returns to the kitchen and finishes the Taco beef, setting out the rest of the kit in the vegetables to cut once he is out of the shower.

As he is about to enter the hot shower, Rosa tells him she will be over in a few minutes. A vague time, but just enough time to get a nice shower. After a brief but deep clean, he gets out, eyes his bottle of Pheromoans; he sprays his target areas. "It's just for good luck," Mark says, placing the bottle down and glaring at him again before grabbing his room. Before he can get there, he hears a knock at the front door. He quickly moves to open it, and there she is, Rosalind, her hair wrapped in a bandana, wearing some silk pajamas and hugging her hips snuggly.

Rosalind begins to speak but stops at the sight of Mark. Droplets of water trailed over the kind of definition he hadn't had in high school. Broad shoulders. Lean muscle. A body that had been to the gym several times over the past few years.

For a second, she forgot why she was even there.

"Rosalind?"

"You really fell in love with the gym after high school, huh?" She says, walking into the apartment.

"Yeah, sorry. I just got out of the shower. Give me a second, and I'll put on some clothes." Mark walks back to his room, and Rosa stares him down. "Are you hungry still?"

"What?"

"You hungry?"

"Yeah, I mean, sure." Rosalind smells the air and moves towards the kitchen. "Is that Taco's I smell?"

"Yup," Mark says behind his now-closed room door. "I got some from Everyday before I got home."

"You didn't.. you shouldn't have."

"I made it so you can focus, but can you grab the taco shells out of the oven while you're in there? I brought pre-sliced toppings, so help yourself, I'll be out in a minute." Mark says. Rosa takes him up on his invitation and makes herself a plate.

"The hell." Rosa says after taking a bite, "Did you make this yourself?

Mark emerges from his room, wearing an extra baggy hoody and grey sweats. "Yeah, I used the taco kit from Everyday as a base and branched out. Is it good?"

"Jodidamente delicioso"

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing, you heard nothing."

"Hmph, alright.

"Are you sure you are not in the culinary arts program? This tastes like something my abuela would make, minus the lettuce and cheese. "Rosalind says before taking another bite of her taco.

Mark relishes the enjoyment and makes himself a couple of tacos. "You saw how big I was in high school; what?? What do you think my parents made all the time? I learned from them while we cooked on the weekends," Mark says, looking at his tacos as if they linked to his past.

"If I ate food like this daily, my butt would be way bigger." Rosalinda looked back at her hips in her chair.

Mark laughs." Rosy, your butt is already enormous." Rosalind stops mind-bite and puts her taco back on the plate. She tilts her head with her eyes raised at Mark.

"Are you calling me a gordita?" Rosalind says, her accent getting thicker.

Mark smirks." Does that mean like fat? All I know is that it's a size or something on the Taco Bell menu."

"It means chubby, Mark."

"No, damn, you're far from chubby. I meant that you have a nice ass." Mark says confidently.

"So, you're looking at my ass now."

"Okay, let's stop pretending I don't, and most guys don't either. Especially when you flaunt it."

"How do I 'Flaunt it,' Mark."

"It's a certain way you walk and your clothes; usually, I don't pronounce it."

"I wear what I wear for myself, not your male gaze."

"In you wear it well."

Rosa squints her eyes at Mark, then picks up her taco. Her hunger outweighed any misplaced anger towards Mark.

After a couple more bites, the two finished their dinner. They headed toward the living room to review Rosalind's progress on her project. Before they can start, Rosalind sprawls out over the couch, rubbing her stomach.

"Oh my god, I haven't felt this full in a long time."

"Happy you liked it."

"You did well feeding your Queen."

Mark sighs." Anything for you, your majesty." He says, opening up his art school bag. "Alright, let's get started."

"I suppose we shall."

Mark looks over her project, his eyes moving across her pages and designs. He burrows, starts furrowing, and he starts mouthing words to himself. Rosalind looked at his every moment, her fingers tapping on the couch, waiting for him to speak. "Hmm, Ems ran into the same issues with this project. That teacher is a hardass, but Em loved her."

"Miss Goody, two shoes were a teacher's pet."

"You're not wrong there, but it's Emma. What's not to love, you know."

"I can name a few, but that's just me. Besides, I saw Emmalyn's designs on the classroom wall. She chose an African design; I'm a bit more mainstream."

"We fell in love with the Black Panther movie; we went down a rabbit hole."

"Ahhh, of course," Rosalind says, rolling her eyes.

"You ever think about leaning into your Latin heritage?"

"You sound like my Abuelita. I will say the same thing I said to her: I don't want to be a cliché. People see me and think, "Oh, here comes the Mexican girl whose father is rich in corn."

"Why let what people think or say define you?"

"Because I'm different, you wouldn't get that?"

"Really now? Have you met me?"

"That's fair. It's just that I don't fit into my family because I dress differently from them. I'm more like my father on that front.

"Rosa, I've been called an Oreo my whole life by black and white people. All because I talk, eat, and act differently from the stereotype of media portrayal of a black man. I don't really lean into my African heritage that much either, but at the end of the day, I'm still that, you know. The old saying You're not really black Doesn't matter when I walk down the street and strangers don't know me. "

"Look at us having something in common."

Mark laughs and shakes his head. "I think we have more in common than you think."

Mark pauses, his head tilted, then raises his eyebrows and reaches for his pencil. Rosalind moves closer to him, watching him work in fluid motion. All thoughts of him being a chef flew out of her mind as his pencil glided on the paper. She matches his energy there, and the conversation sparks something in her similar to his. They stare at each other with a small smile as they agree on a part of the design and continue to progress the design.

The teamwork was fluid, reminding Mark of his time helping Emma with her projects. As the hour passed, they both came up with a conclusion about what project design could be and took a break on the couch.

"Damn, gurl, we killed that."

"I love it. I never thought I could design like that; it was like you created everything in my brain and translated it perfectly onto paper."

"That's what I'm here for." Rosa's eyes narrow on his words as her lips are pursed together. She blinks her eyes, shifting side to side, and then speaks.

"What do you want from me, Mark?"

"Huh," Mark says, caught off guard.

"What do you want from me?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Rosy."

"Stop calling me Rosy, why do you?" She shakes her head and sighs. "You're going to keep calling me that anyway, aren't you?"

"I mean, I have grown quite fond of it. Rosalind is kinda of a mouthful."

"You know the only other person that calls me Rosy is my Abuelita or my grandma."

"I took Spanish in high school.. that may be the only word I remember, but I know what it means." Rosa chuckles and slowly nods. "You know you can be comfortable around me, right?"

"I. Yes, I know. Out of everyone I've ever met, you would be the one. I could tell you anything, and you would be okay with it."

"You remember the first time we ever met each other."

"Mark, I'm sorry I was bitch to you in high school. I can't get over how I made you feel back then. I was horrible."

"Not at our first meeting, though."

"I wasn't."

"Know, it was our first day at high school freshman year. We both arrived at school, and you were walking."

"Oh my god, I do remember. We bumped into each other because I wasn't paying attention."

"Damn, that's what Em's said."

"Never mind, you weren't paying attention."

"Hah. Then I helped you pick up your stuff and immediately tried to shoot my shot. This fat ass black kid with nothing going for him, at one of the prettiest girls in the school."

"Is that what you were doing?"

"Okay, maybe I just introduced myself, and you responded in kind."

-------------------------------------------------Flashback-----------------------------------------------------

Mark huffed up the front steps, his backpack bouncing against his back. With sweat already prickling at his hairline, it didn't take much for him to start. He wasn't technically late--yet--but he was close enough to feel the panic creeping in.

He moved through the back hallway. His mind racing with thoughts of his first day of high school. {Alright, nobody is looking at you on the first day of school. Hopefully, nobody will notice that you have more weight or acne. Wait, why would they? It's the first day of high school. God, I'm such a fucking charity case.} Mark says, "Oh shit." He screams, crashing into another student's binder, spilling out all over the floor,

"Lo siento muchísimo." The girl speaks, reaching for her binder, and Mark immediately moves to help her.

"I'm so." He freezes as he catches a look at the girl. {Holy shit, she is beautiful, and she smells amazing, what is that.}

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, god, yes," Mark says, handing her papers.

"Thank you."

"I'm Mark. Uh, Mark Morgan, and I'm sorry for bumping into you, but you look, I mean, heh."

"I'm Rosalind Rodriguez Mendez. Thank you for helping pick up my stuff."

"It's all good. I will help you anytime, heh," Mark says, rubbing the back of his head and feeling sweat start to form. I ah, bye," he says, walking past her without eye contact.

"Stupid, Stupid." He says before thinking. {Why did I do that? Why would she care who you are? You're nobody, nobody cares about you, you're fat, ugly, disgusting, you..}

"MARK!!!" Emmalyn screams, walking over to him.

"Oh hey, Em's." Mark smiles at his friend as she walks over with a bemused look. He thinks, looking at her. { Good, she is beautiful, but there is no way she would see me as anything but a friend. The last thing I want to do is scare off my only friend. I don't know if I could survive without Ems.}

"That bitch needs to watch where she is going. You good?" Emma says, patting him on the shoulder.

"I got padding." Mark laughs as Emma shakes her head at him. "Come on, let's go to class before we are late."

"Yup, lead the way

As the two walk away, Rosalind makes her way over to her friends.

"Damn girl, you okay? That garbage truck ran right into you."

"Yeah, he started wheezing all over you. Doesn't he know who you are?"

"No, I don't think he does."

"Of course, he doesn't. Probably thinking about his next meal."

"And what was up with that black, blue-haired goth girl with him?"

"Probably his handler." Rosalind nervously laughs as her friends continue to go in on Mark and Emma, watching the pair as they walk further down the hall.

-------------------------------------------------End Flashback-------------------------------------------

"Mark?" Rosalind says, snapping him out of his trance. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good. Look, I do it because we're friends. What's in the past is the past; now, we're in the present. And I personally look forward to our future as." Rosa moves in swiftly and kisses him. She places a hand on his head to pull him in closer. Mark doesn't fight the motion even though he was initially caught off guard.

She pulled back fast, eyes wide, heart slamming against her ribs. "What the hell did I just do?"

Mark stares at her parted lips, frozen. He is not teasing, not smug, just... stunned. He slowly gets up and walks over to her frozen body. "Is this what you want, Rosy?" Mark says, staring into her eyes. She looks back at her eyes, which are not as stern as usual.

"What are you?" Rosalind mouths as Mark pulls her into another kiss. She embraces the kiss bitching his lip seductively, pulling into another kiss, their tongues dancing between moans.

"YES!" Rosalind screams as Mark works his way down her neck, smelling her scent from her freshly showered body. He bites her, eliciting a soft moan. She watches as he unbuttons her top, frozen by his action as her top falls to the floor.

Mark stares at her chest inside her floral-printed peach-colored bra. Her pronounced mole was in the middle of her right breast. "He moves her hands over her breasts to caress them slowly. She stares at him and moans, surrendering her body to his whims.

"They're so soft," Mark says, pulling her in for another kiss. As he pulls away, she bites her lips as if craving more. He moves to remove her bra with his hands, and it falls to the floor. At first, she begins to cover herself, but Mark grabs her hands and says," I want to see you." He says, kissing her areola, slowly opening his mouth to give a quick lick to her nipple. Rosalind quivers at each lick, moans escaping her mouth. He stops and looks up at her with a smirk.

"I knew you would be a tease." She says, Mark renews his focus, grabbing her right breast and sloppily licking her areola. Rosalind holds his wrist, biting her lips, her eyes rolling back. "You stop, I feel. Just as she is about to reach her peak, he begins to work his way down her stomach with kisses on her navel.

Mark gets a good grip on her pajama bottoms and panties and slowly pulls them down, revealing a hairy mound. "Wait," Rosalind says, trying to cover her private areas. Mark plunges his face into her vagina, the force knocking her back down onto the couch. He pulls her pajamas and panties off her, still hanging on one foot as her legs are spread wide open. "What are you doing?"

"Just relax." Mark says as he kisses down her leg, I want to taste you."

"But," Rosa says as his lips touch hers, the sensation sends jolts of pleasure through her body.

"¡Oh, Dios mío! "Rosa says, her eyes crossing as Mark sucks off her clit. Her hands fidgeted, not knowing where to put them, as Mark increased his motion, lapping up her juices as she moaned aloud. She finally reaches for his head, grasping at his head. As Mark pulls away, he looks at her wet vagina pulsating and her puckered asshole. He smirks, then licks his tongue on her asshole." Fuck." Rosalind screams, her toes curling as he licks up back to her vagina. And back to sucking on her clit.

Mark moves his head to the side, brings his right hand up, and sticks his fingers inside of her. Flicking his head shy of her entrance, Rosalind screams, "You need to stop. Oh my god, I'm gonna pee. please." Mark smiles devilishly and continues at an increased pace. Rosalind covers her face and squirts all over his face. She tries to pull away, but he continues his motion until she stops shaking uncontrollably, her legs draped on his shoulders, her breaths rapid.

Mark moves up to her and kisses her once again. She doesn't shy away from embracing his touch. "You taste sweet," he says with a confident world-beater smile.

"How did you do that? I've never felt that before."

"Squirting or an orgasm?"

"Both. Jacob was never a woman pleaser, and he was the only person I ever was with."

Mark smiles and pulls her into a hug. "You don't know how happy I am that I could make you feel something you felt before." Rosalind smirks and embraces his hug.

"I need to make you feel good now, right."

"This wasn't what I expected to happen when I came over."

"What? You kissed me."

"I mean, where do we go from here?"

"I don't know. Rosalind starts to get her but decides against it. Mark sees her struggles, feeling some pride in himself, and gets up to pick her up bridle style.

Rosalind looks up at him in his arms. "You are so fucking hot."

"I know, but hey, you're not so bad yourself," Mark smirks.

"Are we going to finish this," Rosalind says as Mark gently places her on the bed. She tried to move her limbs, but her legs were like stones. "I just need a second, I don't want to leave you hanging after. I just, can you not make me cum again like last time? I still feel it reverberating in my body. "

Mark removes his hoody, revealing his bare torso; Rosalind stares at him with an almost drunken smile. "I've been missing out," Rosa says as Mark moves closer for another kiss, for which she is willing to meet him halfway. But before their lips can touch, they hear loud arguing outside from the apartment entrance.

"What the fuck do you want with Mark?" A loud, familiar voice that can only be Dave's screams.

"He has been sticking his nose in my fucking business, so Im going show 'em what happens when you be nosy." Another voice that Mark recognizes as Bonita's boyfriend again, Smoke, screams.

Mark shoots up, but Rosalind immediately grabs his right arm. She shakes her head at him and mouths. "No."

"Heh," Dave says. "Unlike you, Mark is very busy, so you'll have to take a raincheck, bro."

"I'm a patient man; I can wait for his punk ass to get home." Smoke says with extra venom.

"You're a drunk, dude. And I don't like the face you are waiting out here to try to ambush my boy."

"Bitch you can keep this work too."

"We can squabble up."

"White boy, I will fucking kill you."

"I get you got this whole gangster persona thing going on, but I will fucking wreck your shit in front of your girl in the whole apartment complex to see." Mark hears Dave's words and knows he is past his breaking point. He looks at Rosa seriously as she releases his arm.

Mark puts on his shoes as Rosa gets up and hugs him from behind. "What are you even going to do?"

"I'm going to get this over with."

"After what you saw last time, are you stupid," Rosalind says. "You get your brain blasted out on all over the concrete, and for what."

"Rather me than Dave."

"NO!" Rosa screams, squeezing him tight" Absolutely fucking not, you idiot." She turns her head and continues. "It's not okay, that is not okay."

"I have to go. It will be okay."

"How do you know?"

"Rosa!" Mark screams, then she lets him go, her head still turned to the side, averting her eyes from him. Mark walks over to her and kisses her forehead. "I can't let anything happen to Dave; I owe him a lot," Mark says, walking towards the front entrance as Dave and Smoke are about to touch.

Bonita rushes out of her apartment in just a T-shirt and underwear. Moving quickly to get in between Dave and Smoke. "Stop this; what the hell are you doing, Reggie?"

"Move bitch, I'mI'm about to fuck this bitch up and that hoe-ass a friend of his." Smoke or Reggie says, pointing at Dave, then stopping and mugging Mark.

"Dave. Hey man."

"Mark? This asshole was trying to jump you."

"That's not very cash money of you. Reggie." Mark says, standing shoulder to shoulder with Dave.

"Dude, get back inside. I got this," Dave says, placing his hand on Mark's shoulder. Mark shakes his head in response.

"Absolutely not; you are not fighting my battles for me."

"I got this."

"No, man. And Smoke or Reggie, we need to squash this man."

"Squash?"

"Yeah."

"Nah nigga you think you slick, sending my girl a birthday card and some shit."

"It's just a card. Bonita showed me around when I first arrived; she has been my neighbor since I arrived. We are just friends; nothing else can see here that way." Bonita's face faltered for a second, her lips parted, but no words came out as she stood behind Smoggie; I meant Smoke fuck it, Reggie.

Reggie puffed his chest out, his eyes lingering behind him at Bonita, and then he returned to the two apps in front of him. "The fuck you mean she showed you around."

Mark palms his face. "Not like that man. Look, man, if you want me not to do stuff like that, I will, I'm sorry I overstepped like that, but I'm not fighting you."

"Heh, cause you a bitch."

"No, I'm not dumb because I know this is a lose-lose situation. If I win, you will probably shoot me, and if I lose, hell, you'll probably shoot anyway. Where the fuck you that end us, man?"

"With you fucking dead." Bonita stomps in front of Reggie; Dave's eyes immediately go to her exposed ass, her panties slightly stuck between her cheeks. Mark notices and bumps his shoulder, and Dave turns his head.

"That's taking things too damn far; leave Mark alone. He has been nothing but nice to me. Unlike you." Reggies shakes his head at Bonita and responds.

"Not now, Nita."

"No nigga it's now." She cuts him off, waving her hand. "You out here cutting up at where I live, and you gonna leave, and I have to reap the consequences."

"It's not."

"No, Reggie. Where do you get off, you're cheating on me, and you have the nerve to be mad at a damn birthday card and conversation."

"Nita, I told you it was just a family friend I was helping out," Reggie says, getting mad and backing her into the hallway wall. "What part of that you don't understand?

Dave rolls his eyes and slinks behind Mark, trying to let his friend handle the situation. Still, he sees someone peeping from outside the blinds inside his apartment. Mark restrains himself, trying to see where the situation goes but making sure his feet stay planted in the ground despite desperately wanting to move forward.

Bonita runs up to him defiantly," You think I'm afraid of you, you're not intimidating, and I don't have to deal with this shit anymore." Bonita says, walking past him to her apartment. "Honestly," She mutters under her breath.

Reggie follows her and continues. "You listening to that shit he putting in your head."

"He isn't saying anything, and Mark doesn't even talk about you," Bonita says, addressing his comment. "All he has been is friendly towards me, like a." She pauses. "A big sister." She continues, his eyes darting to Mark for a brief second. "If you were more attentive like a good boyfriend, then you would know that, but nooooo, you out here in these streets fucking around."

"Man, fuck all this shit," Reggie says, walking into the apartment to grab a bag.

"Fuck you too nigga." Bonita screams back at him as he walks past her towards Mark and Dave. He shoots daggers at Mark, pointing at him as he walks towards him.

"This shit isn't over Nigga. You're going to see me out here." Mark returns, and Reggie looks and shakes his head.

"Okay, Man." He says, letting Reggie walk past him and Dave. Bonita's eyes dart away from Mark. Her jaw is tight, and her lips are pressed together as she enters the apartment.

Dave lets out a heavy sigh. "Jesus, man, I came here for some rubbers, and I had to deal with yo shit Craig says while walking inside the apartment.

"Alright, I'm sorry I started shit with our neighbor's YN boyfriend.

"Craig turns around and smiles. "Uh-huh." Then he turns and points at Rosalind, fully dressed but covered in a blanket on the couch. "You!" Craig points at her. "Scared the shit out of me." He pauses, smells the apartment air, nods, and smirks at Mark.

"What are you doing, you weirdo," Rosalind says, interrupting their moment. "I was making sure Mark wasn't doing anything stupid."

"Well, you're too late; I told Marky here to leave Bonita Applebum alone." Dave raises an eyebrow. "She's bad news, just like this one."

"Excuse me," Rosalind says.

"See what I mean, god, you know I miss Ems."

"You should have left him outside like I said." Rosalind rolls her eyes and gets up from the couch.

"Okay, you too?" Mark laughs as Dave looks into the kitchen.

"Oh shit, Tacos? Can I?" Dave says with a taco shell already in hand.

Rosalind squints her eyes at Mark as she walks back to the room. Mark nods at her as he walks into the kitchen with his friend. "So, were you headed to after this?"

"Priya, you know the one Indian girl with the." Mark waves his head.

"I got ya; let me walk you there just in case."

"In case what?" Dave says before gulping down a whole shell taco. "Damn, bitch you put your dick in this."

"Pause." Mark holding up to index fingers. "I don't want anything to happen after.

"Bitch. "Dave says calmly, cutting off Mark. "I am going a building over, plus, I wish a bitch would," Dave smirks before devouring another Taco, a big grin forming on his face as it hits his mouth.

"Then you won't mind the company," Mark says before returning to the room. "Hey Rosy! I will be back. I'm going for a walk with Dave." A phone light shone on her face, her eyes slowly blinking, her lips pressed together in a pout.

"Whatever," Rosalind says, turning her head but mouthing. "Just be careful."

"Just be careful." Dave mocks.

"Don't mock her, Mark." Snaps back at Dave with a frown.

"Jesus, okay, poppa, Mark," Dave says, walking towards the door and opening it for his friend to exit. They get outside and begin to walk over to the next building. "So," Dave says, stabbing the silence between them. "How was it?"

"was what?" Mark replies.

"The fiery latina in your bed?" Dave says, turning his head briefly.

"We didn't.. she didn't," Mark says, shifting his eyes.

"Come on, man, really." Dave rolls his eyes.

"Okay, we kind of got interrupted."

"Oh, it's my fault now."

"Didn't say that."

"Whatever happened must have been good if she is still there."

"It was mainly me, but nothing else."

"Damn, you can open a taco stand with all the tacos you ate tonite." Dave laughs.

"Dave."

"Whatever happened, it better not have been on the couch."

"uh." Mark's face goes blank

"You motherfucker... literally, you motherfucker."

"It just happened. I know the rules."

"Even our dingus roommate follows that rule."

"Look."

"Dude?"

"What the hell am I going to do about Reggie, ma?"

"Oh, you mean the reason you're out here with me and not laying pipe?"

Mark sighs. "Yes."

Dave shrugs his shoulders as they stop in front of the building. "It's simple, really."

"Yeah, what is it?"

"Fuck Bonita."

"What?"

"It's only right. You got to make Smeggie's worst fears come true."

"I'm... She doesn't even."

"Bullshit, I pay attention to people's faces when you said when aint nothing but friends or something like that, her face dropped. It was a tell." Dave points his finger back and forth between himself and Mark.

"Tell for what?"

"Obviously, she teases you for a reason, but also, just maybe, she wants you. Especially if you do things her so-called man aint,"

"How the hell will this make things better."

"It won't, but I do know one thing," Dave says, walking up the steps to Priya's apartment and turning to look at his friend one last time for tonight. "He pointed at you, not me, soooo."

"Really, man?"

"I'm kidding; you're worrying too much. That guy is all talk, no action. Trust me, I know his type of person. Like t. You must stand your gr around, or they will keep pressing the line and acting extra."

"Okay, but I'm still going to keep my guard up."

"Always keep your guard up. Remember what I taught you."

"Of course, well, good night."

"Night, dude. Oh yeah, I forgot. Be careful," D"Of course, well, good night."

"Night, dude. Oh yeah, be careful," Dave waves before knocking on Priya's door and disappearing inside the apartment. Mark looks up at the dark sky before walking back to his apartment. The walk back was quick, and he was already locking up the door.

Mark refrigerates all the food in the kitchen and turns off the lights. He then enters the room and sees Rosy knocked out on the bed. He removes his hoody and shorts and gently gets into bed.

"It's about time you got back, idiot," Rosalind says, grabbing him underneath the cover and laying her head on his shoulder. Mark lies there thinking about who he has been in bed with for the past few days. {Okay, maybe this cologne is changing me more than I want to believe.} He thinks before drifting off to sleep.