"Well tell ya' fine ass momma I said hey."
"Fuck you," Bobby watched William roll his eyes at his remark, "bye."
"Byeeee." Bobby hung up and put his phone away.
"Bobby, come on!" Sanai yelled ahead of him, continuing to walked up a rocky hill.
"Jeez," he walked a little faster on the trial, catching up with her. Today, Sanai proposed the idea of doing some nature shit, so, they booked a resort a few hours away and...went.
It was so easy for him to agree to things like this. He liked her enough to want to sweat his ass off doing the bare minimum and walking for miles on miles. Bobby and Sanai were pretty fit—they had gym dates three to four times a week—so that wasn't an issue. It was just hot as hell.
"I'm here," he grabbed her hand and they continued walking along the trail. Sanai had AirPods in her ear, most likely listening to either one of her own songs or a jazz album.
"Want one?" she took her right Pod out and gave it to him.
"Thanks," he put it in his ear and made a face, "I didn't know you listened to Tyler, the Creator."
"It's on shuffle," she told him, "I like this song though. What's it called?"
"This is 911/Mr. Lonely."
"Ooh, is this Frank Ocean?" she pulled her phone out, "omg, Frank! I love Frank."
"Fascinating," Bobby put his hands in his pockets and looked towards the sky, "this scenery is nice, San."
"I know, I love it. There's supposed to be a river we can see when we get to the top of this hill."
"Dope," they kept walking for another ten minutes in comfortable silence and holding hands. Bobby liked this a lot, the whole summer he didn't go on vacation, he just worked from home a lot and hung out with some British girl he was infatuated with. It wasn't not fun, but to actually get away from the everyday stresses of life and adulting felt fantastic.
Also, Sanai's hiking ensemble was possibly the cutest and most fine thing he'd ever seen. He didn't know someone could make cargo shorts work like she did.
"Yo, you look like Steve Irwin."
"What?" Sanai looked at him in confusion.
"Steve Irwin," Bobby repeated, "the crocodile hunter?"
She looked down at her clothes and snorted. "Of course I do. He was my favorite."
"Same. And thick."
"Bro. It's funny how that's such a super normal for you to say."
"I'm just a comfortable black man, man," he shrugged.
"I fucking love it," they reached the top of the hill, "my favorite black man."
"Besides Jesus," he pointed out.
"I'm Muslim, Robert."
"Shit, I forgot."
"Ain't you, nigga?" she said incredulously.
"I dunno, man," he sat on the ground and she followed, "my mom is Muslim but my dad is Christian Baptist. I grew up under a lot of shit."
"Do you have a preference?"
"Not really, to be honest."
"I'm not as tune as I should be either. You see I couldn't even last through Ramadan, honestly. I'm just uncultured, but I read a lot."
"Same!" he sighed, leaning back on his hands and stretching his legs out, "I just want peace in my life. Happiness. Prosperity. A Jamaican-British girl who can fill a pair of cargo shorts with no worries."
"Shut your fucking gob," Sanai giggled, "but thanks, dad."
"You're annoying," he puffed out a breath when she hugged him tightly, "get off me."
"No," Sanai repeatedly kissed him on the lips, "you're my best friend, Bobby. I mean it. I don't think I'd be in North Carolina still if it wasn't for you."
Bobby smiled softly at her, his arms on her waist as he stared into her gorgeous brown eyes. Brown eyes were the best in sunlight, and in general, and Bobby admired them so much.
"What?"
"Why are you so damn beautiful?" he asked in confusion, "I genuinely want to know."
"It's a gift," she said smugly, "from my mummy."
"That's true. That picture of ya mom was gorgeous."
"She's excited to meet you," Sanai said, sitting up and looking out towards the river. Her side profile was beyond perfect.
"You be talkin' bout me?" he licked his lip and smiled.
"Duh," she rolled her eyes, "and when you come with me for tour she wants to see you ASAP."
"I'm down," he groaned and stood to his feet, "wanna continue?"
"'Course."
"I cannot believe I fell,"'Sanai grimaced, leaving the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her body and head. They came back at five in the evening due to someone's clumsy self tripping over a branch and acarlpimg her knee.
"Still bleeding," Bobby said, referring to her knee.
"Shit," she cursed, continuing to grab a tank top and night shorts, "BRB."
Bobby chuckled, continuing to watch the TV and getting comfortable under the covers. The television was showing a rerun of Good Times, specifically the episode where JJ got shot.
"Is this shirt cute?" Sanai came back in the room and asked, posing in a striped crop top.
"Yeah, what's wrong with it?"
"One of my followers said I looked like The Hamburglar," she pouted, "and the comment got seven thousand likes on Instagram."
"Nigga, get the fuck—"
"I'm for real," she laughed, crawling into bed and getting under the covers with him, "another nigga said, 'where's Waldo? Headass.' Five thousand likes."
Bobby cackled loudly, throwing his head back while Sanai huffed and sat up next to him. "That's funny."
"Whatever. Did you have fun today?"
"I did, actually," he lied his head on her shoulder and sighed, "I was that kid that like...wanted a treehouse just so I could be up there and read. Or I'd just be in the backyard lying in the grass or the trampoline and..like...just looking at my surroundings. It was a simple time. I actually like the outside a lot."
"Damn, bro, you had a treehouse and a trampoline?"
"Yeah," Bobby hummed, "I mean, I was raised in one of those families where my dad was a corporate man and my mom worked as a teacher at my school. Plus, my dad stole the trampoline."
"How—"
"I still don't know how, babe," he closed his eyes and laughed even harder, "he won't tell me."
"Your family life sounded pretty wholesome."
"I can't lie, it was," Bobby sighed, "you brought me out here to expose me, San?"
"I didn't!" Sanai giggled, rubbing his soft beard and licking her lip, "I realized on the way over that you might feel trapped but that's not—"
"I'm kidding, man," he smiled, "this'll be fun."
"Really?"
"It's always fun when I'm with you, baby," he watched her duck her head and smacked his lips, "yo' extra ass can't be out here getting shy. I know not."
"Can you shut op, please," she giggled even more when he brought her face down to his, "Stop it."
"Nah. But I will admit adulting is hard, even though I'm financially stable. It's just...life comes at you fast as shit and things happen. Sometimes..." he shook his head, "it's too stressful. So I don't say a whole lot cus I don't want my stress to be your stress."
"Well, that makes sense, Robert, but you're forgetting something."
"What?" he frowned, looking at her.
"I'm basically your girlfriend, so I want you to be as open as possible."
He snorted. "I don't even like you."
"Okay," Sanai got up and headed to the door.
"Stop!" Bobby laughed, pulling her back in the bed, "stop it, I'm kidding."
"No you're not," she pouted, "I knew it."
"Knew what?"
"I knew you didn't like me—"
"Babe, stop," he grabbed her thighs tightly and stared at her, "I knew I shouldn't have said that—"
She made the ugliest—but far from it— crying face. "If you know how I feel then why would you say that—"
"Stop it!" he laughed, kissing her plump lips repeatedly, making her laugh, "You know you're my girl, my favorite girl. The best girl, the finest girl and the only—"
"Stop I'm getting wet."
Bobby laughed loudly, his chest rumbling while he grinned widely at her. "You wanna be my Whitney? Get it, 'cause my name is Bobby—"
"Can we do drugs?" Sanai asked excitedly.
"Yeah!" Bobby replied sarcastically then shook his head, "dummy."
"But I'm your dummy," Sanai sang, resting her forearms in each side of his head, "right?"
"Right. You ain't tired of waiting for me?"
"I don't get tired easily. It's not like you're doing me dirty and I'm trying to change you, we genuinely help each other grow. And I like that a lot."
"So are you my girlfriend or not? You can be my Bonnie, I can be yo' Clyde—"
"Shut the hell up!" she giggled at his Soulja Boy impression, mostly because it was spot on, "Shut up."
"Text me, call me—"
"Aight, I'll see you later, yeah?"
"The hell you goin'?" Bobby pulled her back once again, "okay, I'm done."
"Ask me again," Sanai fluttered her lashes.
"Sanai—"
"Yes?"
"You're annoying—"
"Yes?"
"Will you be my girlfriend?" He asked softly.
"Aw," she blushed, put her hands to her mouth, "yes. Please. Omg."
"Okay good. 'Night," he pushed her off and pulled the covers closer to his chest.
"Ow," Sanai kicked him and got in beside him, "I wanna break up."
"Okay."
"Bobby!"
"I'm kidding, sheesh," he laughed.
SMASH FOR THE CLOUT
DASH
I'M OUT