She picked it up and just held the phone and listened. “Hellooooo?” She heard Black on the other end.
“Hey,” she said.
“I’m about to be there in three minutes. Come down. I gotta drop this to you and keep going. Got a lot of shit going on, but I ain’t want you to be without.”
“Okay,” she said. “I’m coming.”
As she exited the room, she began to wonder what Black’s ulterior motive was. What was it that he wanted? But then again, she reminded herself that maybe there are some good people in the world, and maybe he was the one good person in Miami.
The second she came outside the hotel revolving door, there he was, sitting on the bench. Black handed her the cell phone, along with a hundred and fifty dollars. For the first time, she got a good look at Black. He was about six feet tall, ebony-skinned, and he resembled a younger Barry White. He really wasn’t bad looking in a rugged kind of way.
“You can go down the block and set the phone up. This should be enough to take care of that and put something on your stomach. Call me once you get it on.”
“Thank you,” she said. “I—I really appreciate it.”
“Ain’t nothing!” He flagged his hand in a dismissive manner, “Talk to you soon, a’ight? Be safe.” He turned to walk away. Then he turned back. “Ayo.”
She looked up at him.
“I almost forgot.” With his hand turned in a downward manner, he handed her a switchblade. “Keep this with you at all times, and don’t be afraid to shank a mofo.”
She smiled. “Thanks, honey. And I ain’t scared to hurt somebody trying to hurt me. Never again.”
He nodded. “Cool. A’ight, later,” he said and walked off.
Since she was just at the store the day before, she managed to get her same number connected to the new phone. It didn’t matter, because no one really had the number anyway. It just was easier that way.
When she put all her apps on it, she went back to her room to change. She logged onto her Instagram account and was bombarded with countless direct messages from Bella. Though she wanted to hear what her sister had to say for herself, she didn’t even open them. She didn’t want it to show that they had been read.
Then, somewhere in between Bella’s countless messages, she noticed another one from a guy named Viper. Though he was her follower on Instagram, she had never met him in person. They had communicated through his responses to her posts of clothes she was selling. She also had her picture on Instagram, and she’d modeled an outfit or two.
She clicked on it. It read: HEY GORGEOUS! ARE YOU IN MIAMI BY ANY CHANCE? I THOUGHT I SAW YOU ON LINCOLN ROAD.
Damn, this damn social media is a real bitch!
For a split second she thought about it and wasn’t going to respond to him at all. But then she had to come to terms with the fact that she couldn’t exist in this city alone. Her back was against a wall. She had nothing to lose. Shit, she needed all the friends she could get.
She answered back: YES, GOT ROBBED AND BEAT UP. EVERYTHING WAS STOLEN.
He responded back right away: THAT’S FUCKED UP! WHERE ARE YOU? DO YOU NEED A PLACE TO STAY? ARE YOU OK? CALL ME 305-777-9311.
She took too long to respond, so he hit her up again: WORRIED ABOUT YOU- CAN YOU PLEASE CALL ME? THIS PLACE NOT SAFE FOR A LADY OUT HERE BY HERSELF.
I never said I was alone, did I? she wondered.
Before she could hit Viper back, her cell phone rang.
“Hey, you!” she said through the receiver.
“Throw on some sneakers. I’ma pick you up in five minutes,” Black told her. “Take you down to South Beach and get you something good to eat.”
“A’ight, sounds good to me.” She hung up and put her sneakers on and headed to the lobby. While she waited on the valet bench outside of the hotel, she pulled out her phone and responded back to Viper: I’M DOING OK AND WILL CALL YOU A LITTLE LATER.
V: YOU PROMISE?
B: YES.
V: PROMISES AREN’T MEANT TO BE BROKEN.
Before she could respond back to Viper, Black pulled up on a scooter. She smiled. “Now you know good and well you too damn big for this scooter,” she quipped.
“Huh? What you say?” he asked. “You rollin’ with me, or what?”
Bianca sighed. She was hungry, and so far, Black had shown himself to be a friend. She’d never ridden on the back of a motorcycle or on a scooter before, but then again, she’d never been in Miami, broke, or with no one to call on. Her whole life had changed overnight. She was trying not to dwell on it. Having a life was way better than being six feet under. With that being said, there was nothing else to do but make the best of the life she still had.
“Just don’t drive all fast. My life is literally in your hands,” she said as she hopped on the back, and off they went down the block to the Ocean Drive strip on South Beach. She ached with each bump he hit, but she enjoyed the wind blowing through her hair. It felt soothing. The hot shower she took earlier had loosened up her muscles and taken away some of the pain.
The two ended up at the same spot where Black borrowed the ink pen from the hostess to write his number down. They took their seats at the Oasis Restaurant with a perfect view of the crystal blue ocean. She gazed off, letting her mind run wild with thoughts of living the life of luxury, but she kept being brought back to reality with the ringing of Black’s phone.
“Them chicks blowing you up, huh?”
“Not even.”
“Negro,” she joked, though she was so serious, “you know
