The weather was getting nicer, which meant that I was more comfortable taking my motorcycle out more to get to places. Sure, I didn’t have my motorcycle license just yet, but if I’m able to drive a bulky ass car without getting into accidents, then I would say that my driver’s license was just fine driving this dainty motorcycle. I also really wanted to take it out to show Rosie; it would be her first time seeing it, and I was excited to see her reaction to it.
Rosie and I’s friendship has been really good these past couple of weeks. The more that I allowed myself to support Rosie and just be her friend, the softer she has become. It’s like she’s allowing me to see a different side of her; one that not many people get the pleasure in seeing. Rosie has always had a hard exterior to the point she is deemed unapproachable. For some reason, that quality about her made me want to get to know her, and I’m glad that it did because Rosie is so fucking cool.
I drive down Rosie’s block, slowing down once I get to her corner. I looked up to her apartment window and see the curtain from inside is blowing in the wind. I smile before cupping my hands over my mouth.
“Yo, Roe!” I shouted out toward her apartment window, hoping she could hear me. It wasn’t long after that Rosie poked her head out the window; her curly brown hair with her colored streaks blowing in the wind.
“What the fuck is that you’re next to?” she shouted back. I look at the motorcycle next to me before looking back up at her.
“Your ride for the day,” I answered, smiling. “Come on, Juliet! Your chariot awaits!” I can hear Rosie laughing before she puts her head back into her apartment. I couldn’t help but feel good in this moment. I couldn’t help but just smile.
I look up and see Rosie closing the front door behind her. She runs down the stairs to finally meet me at ground level. She immediately looks at the motorcycle.
“Micah,” Rosie begins to say. “Where the hell did you even get a motorcycle from?”
“She’s not just any motorcycle, Roe; she’s my baby, Suzanne,” I explained, running my hand down the side of the motorcycle.
“Suzanne?” Rosie repeated. “Is she supposed to be your hot, cool motorcycle, or your middle-aged aunt from the 90’s or something?”
“Oh! So you got jokes now, I see,” I said, crossing my arms along my body.
“Yep,” Rosie said as she put her bookbag on her back before walking around the motorcycle. “Thinking about changing career paths and becoming a comedian.”
“You gotta go to clown school for that,” I began to say, getting ready to get on the motorcycle. “I’m sure you’ll get in.” Rosie nudged me on my shoulder as I laughed. I slapped the seat behind me, inviting Rosie to sit down. “Come on.”
“Wait, you were being serious about riding this thing?” she asked, pointing at the motorcycle.
“No, I was just coming to show you it; we’re gonna be walking,” I said, being sarcastic. “Ofc course we’re riding this motorcycle.” Rosie slowly walks to the motorcycle, looking a little nervous. I handed her a helmet hat I packed inside of my bookbag.
“Are you sure this safe, Micah?” Rosie questioned. I rolled my eyes, strapping the helmet onto her head.
“If you keep this on, then yes,” I answered, smiling as I buckled the strap on her chin. I turned around to get in position before starting the motorcycle. I immediately felt Rosie’s arms wrap around my body. It caught me off-guard at first, but then realized she is doing that to prepare herself.
“Ready?” I asked one last time before we took off. She nodded her head yes. I smiled, turning back around and began driving. It took Rosie a couple of blocks to get the hang of it; she didn’t viciously grab me as we continued riding down the streets of Brooklyn. I can tell she started to enjoy it as she kept happily screaming every now and then when the motorcycle went fast. Her hair blew in the wind as we kept driving; her excitement made me smile.
…
We finally make it to the Oxygen Lounge after picking up some party supplies. The day of the party was quickly approaching and Rosie and I needed to get the important things out of the way. We sat in our usual spot, and I couldn’t help but laugh at Rosie; her hair was fluffy and sticking out from every different angle. She attempts to flatten it but fails miserably.
“Curly hair problems, huh?” I asked, taking a menu from the table to hand it to Rosie. She rolled her eyes as a response.
“Dude, you don’t even know,” Rosie said, letting her hair do whatever it wants. “It has a mind of its own.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” I responded, flipping through the pages. “That’s why I locked my hair.”
“You have naturally curly hair?” Rosie asked, seeming shocked. I nodded my head.
“My mom has wildly curly hair; I was cursed with that gene,” I explained. “It was getting to be too much of a hassle but I didn’t want to cut it short. So, I just locked it.”
“I cannot picture you with like a military style haircut,” Rosie added, flipping through the menu now. “Like, your head–“
“Don’t even say it, Roe,” I interrupted her, knowing exactly where this is going. Rosie burst out laughing. “Like for real.”
“Say less,” Rosie said, before closing her menu book. “I know what I’m getting; you ready, egghead?” I couldn’t help but laugh; Rosie knew exactly how to joke without actually making it known she was joking.
“I think I got my order down, Cynthia,” I joked back, Rosie kicked me from underneath the table as I started to laugh. We quicky called a waiter order and gave them our order, which was our usual for the lounge.
“So about this party,” I began to say, getting straight to business. “We should meet up like an hour i advance to get everything set up and decorated. How are we doing with ticket sales?”
“They’re good; could be better,” Rosie said, scrolling on her phone. “We have about 20 people already on the list.” I cocked my eyebrow up.
“Not bad for two nobodies throwing a party,” I said, flipping the pages of my notebook. “You got the camera ready for the project?” Rosie nodded her head.
“Yep, I was able to have Hudson grab it for me when he visited from Philly. Hopefully it still works,” Rosie said out loud to herself.
“Is photography just another art outlet you took on?” I asked.
“Not necessarily,” Rosie tilted her head to the side, looking down at the table. “You want the truth, or do you want the answer I give to everybody?”
“Give me the answer you feel most comfortable in telling me,” I answered back. I was afraid to hear Rosie’s reason why. Everything that Rosie admitted about herself just was heartbreaking, to say the least.
“I actually wanted to document my life in Philly,” Rosie said. “I also wanted some insurance just in case anything happened to me.”
“Insurance?” I asked. “For what?”
“As a runaway, you always need some type of insurance just in case you went missing,” Rosie began to explain in a nonchalant way. “People didn’t care about the teens that go missing when they live in the streets. They are just deemed as human garbage and one less teen on the street meant that the street was getting cleaner.”
“That’s a fucked up way to think about it,” I commented. “I guess you didn’t need your camera when you came to New York.”
“Yeah,” she added, taking the camera out of her bag. She smiled as she looked down at it. “I specifically told Hudson to leave the old film back at home; I didn’t want to get the urge to develop those photos.”
“It’s understandable,” I reassured. “Well, I’m glad that your camera is now serving a new purpose.” I smiled at Rosie. She lifted her camera up and took a picture of me sitting across from her. She looks at the screen, flipping around so that I can see the picture. I couldn’t help but smile; laugh even.
“I look like a kid who went out to dinner with his mom after school after getting a passing grade in Math,” I explained as I laughed. Rosie couldn’t help but laugh either.
“Dude, the imagery,” Rosie laughed as she looked back at the picture. We had to have been the loudest people in the lounge this afternoon, but we were definitely having the most fun together. I hope it stays this way.
…
I can hear my phone vibrating nonstop on my nightstand, which was beginning to piss me off. This particular week had been rough; midterms on top of midterms on top of assignments that needed to be made up. All I wanted to do was sleep in this one Friday I had no classes. I sucked my teeth and flipped over to face my nightstand, grabbing the phone without even knowing to it was.
“Yo, wtf is going on?” I answered the phone, angry but half asleep.
“Yo, Micah,” The voice says over the phone. It’s Tanner. “You gotta get up.”
“Tanner, I don’t have time to play referee with your girlfriend,” I said, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
“Listen to me, man,” Tanner said, seeming a bit serious. “You gotta see what I saw when I went to the corner store.” I sighed as I was just about to hang up the phone. “Did you get my text?” I take the phone away from my ear and minimize Tanner’s call. I opened up my messages to see that Tanner had sent me a picture. I open the picture and that’s when I fully wake up. “Like, I’m not trippin’, right?” I hear Tanner said over the phone.
There it is: a magazine with a picture of Rosie and I at the corner with the title, Tired of limelight partners? Kalia Holder’s ex-boyfriend hanging out with Prescott Jones’ girlfriend.
“Fuck,” I simply said, jumping out of my bed.
Letters From Liz. 