Distractions (D. SWING)

45

I sit up in my seat. "No, I have on a Nike set. DeVante Swing's out here with the leather jacket, the Karl Kani shirt, the—" I lean forward, looking for a sign of designer on his jeans. I haven't seen these before. I'm going out on a loop as I assume they're bran new. "What are these?" I tug on the pocket of his pants.

DeVante's coyish laugh grows in volume. "They just some Levi's." He is always humble about his appearance. No matter how much he is playfully arrogant, he is always humble.

Falling directly back into my rant, I place the name into the order. "With the Levi jeans and those Timbs." I'm not necessarily sure why he's wearing those today, considering that it isn't all that cold today. "And then there's me. I'm just in this. What's the memo, baby? We're steppin' out on the sceneeeee. If you wanted me to step my game up today, I could do that! Pop out in the cult classic Hervé Léger, curls rolled, make up done. I cou—"

"Why are you being so goofy today?"

I slouch back down into my seat, bringing my right knee up to my chin. "I don't know," I laugh.

Laughing, DeVante switches to the faster lane, not the fastest, only the faster. "Can you hand me skittle," he politely asks as he come into a tunnel. I dig inside throughout the darkness, searching for the correct bag that my boyfriend is seeking. "You ever wonder what's the chances of getting a bag of only one kind of skittle. Like, all pinks or green or whatever the fuck." Smiling, I continue to dig through the arm rest. He's been quiet since the whole thing in Charolette. I didn't mean to push him that far out of his comfort zone. We kind of act like it didn't! happen at all, sometimes. We spend more time together but, we've haven't acknowledged it since it happened.

The light peeks through the tunnel as we find our ways out. I continue searching for his snack. "I'd say abou— what is this that I keep bumping?" Next to his gun is a suede, velvety feeling box. I pull the small box out, bringing it before myself to examine it. It's happened before. You know, the whole random ring box bit.

DeVante pauses, staring at me, his eyes tell me that his mind is distraction. He's got something to say— but we all know he's no good with words. Not unless he's allowed to say 'know what I'm sayin' or it's like in every sentence. I know it can frustrate him, so, I naturally have a sense of patience for him. His mind just moves so much faster than his mouth.

His hand slips into his pocket. "Here," he drops a tiny box on the table. "Put that on." I assume this is what he was contemplating for the last two minutes. I can tell by the way he said it in a way to simply get it over with.

I take the box and am greeted with a large diamond ring. It's flashy— yet simple, I can tell he chose it. It's almost breathtaking.

"Well, that's a shitty ass way to propose," I joke.

He replies in a heartbeat. "It ain't no engagement ring. You know what it is so just put it on, 'know what I'm sayin'? Just gone and slide it on your finger and leave it there." He playfully jokes squeezing my hand. I glare at him, taking the ring out of the box. After placing it on my finger is when I extend my arm to take a good look at it. The last promise ring I wore was worn on my right middle finger— this one is on my left ring finger... for a reason. DeVante picks up my hand, again. I'm startled by the sound of my ring bumping against the table but I'll get used to it soon. "I promise I ain't gone leave you, I ain't gone cheat on you, I won't play you to the left—eva'— and whatever else you don't want me to do." The look in his eyes says enough. "And I promise when it's fo'real, fo'real time to put a ring on it? I got you. Not yet— but I got you."