Page 29 of Call Me Baby 2: Side B
Celie clicks her tongue. “You’re suspiciously hinged.” She draws a finger down the length of my outfit. “Not a thing outta place, voice neutral...” She squints. “Yeah. Nah. Somethin’ happened.”
Yeah, no shit.
Miss No-Penetration fucked two guys in twenty-four hours, and now she’s a slut.
Not a badass or a player.
A real, actual slut.
“What happened is, I need new tongues,
“fresh mouths,
“willing learners.”
She fans the folder open, crossing her legs. “Yeah, yeah, down to one Boy. How will you ever survive,” she mutters, eyes skimming the next headshot. “You really think hirin’ a new Boy right before we take off for Cali is a good idea—”
“Celie, please don’t start.”
She pops her gum, all attitude. “Mhm. I know what’s really goin’ on. All them soft-ass feelings for Six-Point-Five creepin’ back up, huh?”
I reach for my pen, click it,
and circle the one with the pretty eyes.
“Wouldn’t matter.” I slap the folder shut. “Feelings don’t eat pussy.”
A knock echoes off the mirrors.
“And there’s contestant number one.”
// BOY #1 //
Contestant number one walks in like someone handed him a mirror in middle school and said, ‘You’re beautiful, so don’t waste it,’ and he hasn’t since.
I slide into Celie’s ear. “Name’s Jalen. Crown Heights. Works with kids in crisis—grief groups, troubled kids from juvie, that kinda thing.”
He’s crossing the floor,
heading right for us.
Thirty-two. Neatly edged beard.
Annoyingly perfect white teeth.
Broad across the chest,
navy shirt hugging just right.
He smooths down his tie,
checking his reflection.
Celie lights up. “Aww, you got one of those good hearts, huh?”
He grins. “Try to.”
He offers his hand.
