"What, you scared or some shit?" He tilted his head, studying me. “Scared of what?”
"You scared that if you sit down, you might like a nigga?" I laughed. "Boy, please. I just got better shit to do than sit here and stroke your ego."
"Who said anything about stroking my ego?" His voice dropped lower,. "I’d rather you stroke my dick," My face got hot, but I wasn't about to let him see he was getting to me. "You a real bold mufucka for that one."
"Life's too short to play games, Ma." He sat back again, spreading his arms wider across the booth. "I see something I want; I go after it. And right now, I want you to sit down and talk to me for five minutes. That's it."
"Five minutes of what? Listening to you spit weak ass game?"
"Weak?" He laughed, and the sound did something to my stomach. "Aight, you got jokes. I like that. Most females just giggle and blush when I talk to them."
"Well, I ain't most females."
"I can see that." His eyes locked on mine, intense. "That's why I'm asking. Come on, just five minutes. If you still wanna leave after that, I'll let you go. Scout's honor."
"You ain’t never been no damn scout," I muttered, but I found myself sliding into the booth across from him, not next to him like he probably wanted. I wasn't giving him that satisfaction.
"See? That wasn't so hard." He gestured to one of his homies who was lingering nearby. "Bring the pretty lady a drink. What you drinking on, beautiful?"
“Patron and lemonade.” I said and his smile got wider. "I knew I liked you for a reason."
"You don't even know me."
"Not yet. But I want to." He leaned forward again. "Tell me something about you."
"Why?" I asked, suspicious. "So, you can use it to try and get in my panties later?"
"Damn, you don't trust nobody, huh?" He laughed again. "Nah, I'm just curious about you. You fine as hell, you carry yourself like you ‘bout that life but you got a lil’ class too. A nigga just wanna know more."
His boy brought my drink, and I took a sip, using it as an excuse to think. Something about Sosa was different from the usual niggas who tried to holla. He was direct, but he wasn't disrespectful.
And the way he looked at me gave me a different type of feeling.
"What you wanna know?" I asked finally.
"Everything." He took a sip of his own drink. "But we can start simple. What's a girl like you doing running drops for her brother? You could be doing anything else."
"That’s really the first shit you wanna ask me?”
“Shidddd I wanna know.”
“Well Maybe I like helping my family, and I'm good at it."
"I bet you are. You got the type of vibe like you don't fuck around. I respect that." He paused. "But you gotta have dreams outside of playing delivery girl, right? What you really wanna do?"
The question caught me off guard. Most niggas just wanted to talk about themselves, flex about their money or their status. Nobody ever asked what I wanted out of life besides my big brother.
"I don't know yet," I admitted. "I guess I’ll figure it out as I go."
"Aight, I get it." Sosa nodded. "But when you do figure it out, you should go for it. All the way. No half stepping."
"That's easy for you to say. You already got everything figured out."
"You think so?" He laughed, but it was different this time. It was less cocky, more real. "Nah, I'm just good at making it look easy. But trust me, I'm figuring shit out just like everybody else."
We sat there for a minute, just looking at each other, and the energy between us shifted.
"Your five minutes is up," I said, finishing my drink and standing up.