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  • Writer's picturethejsingraham

"Hey Auntie!" (excerpt)

I heard a rumor from a little birdie that older woman - younger man was a storyline that the people wanted more of so I decided to try my hand. SPOILER ALERT: this excerpt is from the beginning of the story and doesn't even begin to wet your whistle on getting into the goods. You should still read it though, because yeah.



Am I going to see you today?

I had been moving back and forth between that text, her IG stories and my draft response for like the past ten minutes. My on again off again from back home, Jina, sent me that bullshit ass message earlier today. Quiet as kept, I wasn’t feeling her or that situation at the moment.

Maybe it was the timing, maybe it was the fact that she had been hard as hell to connect with all semester...maybe it was the fact her wannabe influencer homeboy had found his way into all of her Tik Tok’s over the last month. Tik Tok’s that were progressing into far more relationship joke, slow grinding and bedroom humor.

Hey we’re both young and I tried to tell her that multiple times over the last two years.

No don’t be silly. I love you David, we’re good. When you go to the league and I’m a big-time influencer, we are going to kill the game.

Every time she said that dumb shit it made me cringe. My game is nice, but I'm realistic about my chances of going pro in the States. And the whole idea of a college student that is passably funny and just an okay dancer, banking on being an influencer as a goal, eh. Quiet as kept, her and ol’buddy have done some decent numbers of late though. She can ride that wave and whatever else of his.

“Can this bus move any slower?”

I really hope this dude does not expect me to respond. It’s bad enough I’m on this damn bus in the first place. Now you’re interrupting my train of thought. Ignore.

“I said this bitch moving slow ain’t it man?”

The wild eyed dude sitting in the window seat to my left decided to re-emphasize the point after not catching the obvious initial hint.

“I can’t call it. It’s moving pretty good, for a bus I mean.”

I purposefully responded with less interest for engaging in this back and forth than I actually had, which was less than none. My homeboy flaked on me last minute and decided to let me know this morning that he was staying on the yard for the holiday. Apparently he wanted to hang back and have Thanksgiving with the townie he’d been messing with this semester, which was his right, but that day of shit...not cool in the least.

Luckily I got paid last Friday and was able to grab one of the last three seats on this Greyhound headed to DC. On the good side, I’ll get home for the holiday and the break without moms worrying. On the bad side, Imma miss the actual celebration with the fam. I just might have to go through with that ass whooping I started to give Terrence this morning.

“Hey you got a light?” Window seat asked.

“Nah I don’t smoke, sorry.”

Five minutes later.

“Hey you smoke?”

The look I gave the man, must have been harsher than I intended because he apologized and shifted his body away from me. Your ass clearly needs to switch up what you smoke, goofy.

Pulling out a dry turkey sandwich and a bottle of Minute Maid apple juice I snagged at the last rest stop, I forced myself to eat. It was definitely better to go this route to prevent my making an even worse decision at the next stop. I absolutely refuse to do fast food on Thanksgiving.

Two bites in on the dry ass turkey sandwich trying to take me off of this earth, I paused and pulled out my phone.

It’s 3:05 pm. Ain't no way I'm making it home in time for dinner. Ma is gonna kill my ass.

There’s an email from my RA.

An email reply from one of my professor’s.

A text from Terrence’s bum ass.

A text from my cousin Tiny, hmmm let me see what’s going on, I thought.

------------- text convo -------------

Tiny: where you at?

David: I’m on the way

Tiny: Cool, how close? Your momma just said Aunt Lauren will be here in a half hour with the gumbo, honey baked ham and green beans..

David: Fuck, I’m going to miss the show. My boy flaked on the ride last minute. Had to catch the bus home.

Tiny: Damn. You tell your momma yet, because I’m not doing that shit.

David: If she asks again, just tell her you talked to me and I’m on the way. I’ll call her at the next rest stop and let her know what’s up.

Tiny: Cool. Be safe cuzzo.

David: You know it.

------------- text convo -------------

Yup, I’m definitely whooping Terrence ass when I get back to campus. Aunt Lauren is coming through with the gumbo. There is a damn good shot that will be gone by the time I get there. Nonetheless, I can already taste the leftovers I’m climbing in tomorrow morning though.

“Hey, you play ball?” An older guy sitting across from me in a burgundy kangol asked. A small gold Cadillac emblem shined like new money, around his neck.

“What gave it away?” I returned in a much more pleasant tone than I gave my neighbor earlier.

“You mean other than those big boats you have stuck in the aisle, that drawstring bag you have in your lap. You’re what about six-foot-three?”

The man somehow hit it dead on the head, which was impressive since I was sitting down. After a little back and forth, I was able to find out that he was a Central alum and used to hoop back in the day. We talked about different spots both on and off campus. He tried to convince me to consider joining his fraternity, which was a no go but I entertained the thought. Thirty minutes later we took a selfie that I DM’d to the athletic department’s Instagram account and we went back to enjoying the trip in solitude.

Two hours later we pulled into a city just outside of Richmond, VA. The change in seasons had it looking like night time even though it was only a quarter to six.

“Alright everyone, all ashore that’s going to shore. Welcome to Norfolk! If this is your last stop, thank you for riding Big Grey Bus lines. For those staying on to Richmond and beyond you have twenty minutes. Don’t get left.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at that last part. Nothing like a bus driver with personality to make a funky situation a shade less funky.

Outside of the bus, I stood on the curb and punched in the house phone number at ma’s. While it rang my seat mate appeared beside me with a bag of golden arched fast food.

“Ey you want something?” He asked.

“Nah I’m good...uh, thanks.”

“Respect, respect. Calling your chick?”

“Bruh! Do you mind, damn!”

He hurried off as momma’s voice filled my headspace.

“David Marcus Edwards!”

“Aw shit! I mean damn! Momma, I’m sorry. That wasn’t directed at you. This dude was bothering me. Hell he's been bothering me since...nevermind.”

“David, where are you?” Momma asked.

I offered up the super abridged version of the day’s shenanigans as a response. It was all I had to offer around telling her multiple times that she did not need to worry about sending my uncle or cousin to come get me. I tried to tell her I would Uber from the station once I got in, but she wasn’t having it. So I told her if she saved me some of auntie’s gumbo I’d take the ride, she bit and the bus driver signaling departure took care of the rest.

Up next, a date with these headphones.

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