Skipper's Heartbeat (PRN)

eight

Smoothening my dress, I assure that it's 1000% wrinkle free. Classy but sassy is how I like to label my style. My hair's brushed back into a low ponytail with my afro puff sitting on top of my neck. I plan to flex my eyelashes out to Prince as much as I can today. As we grow closer by the day, I feel the growing want of being able to really look him in the eye. I can't do that with hair in my face. I like to think that if he knew that is what left him trapped downstairs with my chirping mother, he'd feel better about the situation. My mother has been talking to Prince for what feels like is forever. I can hear her talking to him from upstairs. This go around we chose not to hide the fact that he is who I am hanging with today and must bare the consequences of his presence being known.

"I think you guys should do this more often... If only Mo weren't so picky about who sees her where." My scoff at my mother's words is low in volume. It's not anyone's fault that I have a reputation to protect, especially not mine. "She wasn't always like this. Things changed when Anthony went away to the service. He was her last real reason to smile... You guys look like you could possibly have that fun she craves."

By now I am rushing to finish getting ready. I spray perfume on my neck. In my purse is hand lotion, a miniature sample bottle of perfume, wipes, breath spray, gum, mints, a comb, and an emergency brush. Let's not forget my lipstick and compact mirror as well. I am set from head to toe! Now I've got to stop my mother from embarrassing me. I like Prince and all but I don't want him knowing my full life story unless I tell him myself. I know he's her friend's son but some things are not his business.

"Ms. Brenda," he starts with a nervous chuckle. "I think Mo just—"

"Really, Skipper, I mean it. She acts like a big baby. Y'know, I think it's because she wants to go back to that time. She runs away from responsibility so much that it's damn near impossible to get her to do what she needs. Nothing is the same these days." As I enter the room, my mother stops talking as if I could not hear her talking about me. "You two have fun. Bye, baby." She kisses my cheek.

"Bye, Mother. See you at eight."

Sitting in the booth, I have a direct head-on view of Prince. He is looking through his menu but the expression on his face told me it was more to the situation. He hasn't made a sound in minutes. "What're you looking at?"

"Trying to focus." He says without even giving me his eye contact as he invests himself into the menu. I reach out to gently remove the menu out of his grasp. "Come on, Monica. Give it back." He nearly snatches the menu back.

"We're on a date. Can we act like it?" I sigh at my frustrations nearly getting the best of me. I've got to be my true self. If I have a moment, Prince will win the bet and never let me hear the end of it. I repeat myself in a much nicer tone, "Prince, we're on a date. Can we talk to each other or something?" He puts the menu down, still looking around at everything but me. I am curious as to why he is acting so strange. "What's going on? Talk to me."

"I told you. I'm trying to focus."

"But why?"

"You're looking a lot more appetizing than any of the burgers on the list. I need to eat."

My cheeks burn with a deep maroon color on my lightly caramel colored skin. A giggle escapes my lips as I distract myself with the salt shaker. I can't think of anything to say. In the same thought process, I cannot think of anywhere else I'd rather be than here. The waitress comes and Prince orders our food with one milk shake.