Stollen

“Ahhwooh,” this is the last time she thought as she blew the last bit of smoke from Bebe’s pineapple-wrapped doobi. The ring of fire pressed into the center of the charcoal gey astray just below the controls of her 2015 sound system. She traced the arch of her brows with her index fingers, ensuring they were sleek and in tip-top shape. Strawberry chapstick met each corner of her mouth, gliding from the top of her lip down and around the bottom of her juicy piece of perfection. She smiled as she winked in the vanity of her visor. Three pumps of blueberry scented bath and body works, spearmint peppermint chew, and cracked windows removed any lasting smell that Mary Jane may have left behind. She closed the car door behind herself, adjusted the collar of her burgundy pantsuit, grabbed her notebook from the pit of her arm, and proceeded to the big H. It was lit like a light tower, white glowing lights plastered across the two-story building, either directing traffic or calling its subjects into formation. Harleys, School of Nursing.

She drew her fingers along the top border of the giant pillar of stone that sat tall with lasting elegance, “how long has this thing been here,” she thought to herself. It dominated the pavement barely above the fire lane curb as though it were in itself calling her, pulling her to this exact moment. “What is this?” she thought “why do I feel like this?” It started at the tips of her fingers then gradually made it to the crease of her forearm, light zaps of sensation tussled from her hands down her arms like soft waves of serenity. Every bit of it was her, every ounce of the warm magnified electrical sparks. This she knew. She closed her eyes as sudden bright luminescence embedded itself in the open space of her dark pupils. As she released her lids back to their rightful position, she saw him, he held the door using the heel of his foot as a dowel inviting her in, “Hello, I’m Zack, it’s nice to meet you.” He sketched her with his eyes down from her closed-toed Micheal Kors boots up to the top of her ginger locks, allowing himself a better look at her marvelous figure and distinct rare beauty. “The marks of a Dru.”

“What?”

“Zack, Stop blocking the door!” a stern and exceedingly boisterous voice said from the counter behind him.

Images of rules, regulations and the obvious graduating classes from previous years lined the walls, she gazed at everything, her face turned from one direction to the next, examing all that remained in her path. She kept her hands crossed behind the lower of her back as she led herself backward. The woman in the black dress stood waiting with her face peering over the countertop. “Hello, you must be Sally.” “Yes.” “I’m Martha, it’s nice to finally meet you, please follow me.” Color patterns of turquoise, green, purple, and orange trickled along the hall tile leading to room 217, “That seems a bit unusual,” “what does?” “The color scheme of the tiles.” “Oh yes, these,” she said as she stopped and tapped the tip of her black suede boots against the sparkling floor. “They were donated to the school, so believe me when I tell you none of the staff had a hand in their choosing.” She paused as she insinuated the delay a little longer than Sally enjoyed, gazing at the dark beauty marks resting along the left side of her face.

“This is it.” Room 217 was exactly what she expected, a honey maple door with a small rectangle window allowing the inhabitants to be only slightly visible. “Shall I open the door for you? “ ” No, no I got it.” “Okay, I’ll leave you to it then,” Martha said as she turned and walked back down the hall. Butterflies began to rage as her dark ruby eyes took a second peak, she eased her head slightly to the right looking in at everything the glass would allow her to see. Her heart sped as if she were about to take her last breath, because time machines are just a figure of our imagination this would be that moment everyone says you experience right before death, she slid her hand over the lower end of the Gildan handle, exhaled, while every second of the day that led to her tardiness flashed before her eyes. She saw Allison's lime highlighter and half-wrapped spearmint first, “fucking Allison,” rolled from the inside bridge of her lips like a mother taping the bottom of a toddler newly discovering the mischievous act of crawling, pleasant but disastrous.

“Come on Sall, you know you wanna go.”

“Okay but I have to be back no later than 3 o'clock, I have that orientation tonight.”

They smashed from the east to the south in what seemed like minutes, Sally's wet hair still dripped from the ends of her double twisted corn rolls. Her baby hairs were slick, she had the best edge control Kings Wigs off-Broadway would sell for the sake of safeguarded profit. Allison's 2012 all-white Mustang Convertable was the perfect ride for hot younglings on a Saturday afternoon. Bebe’s apartments were always fire, every nigga from the P who was somebody was either slangin or watching their cattle on route. Most of them had already been to the pen at least twice, Allison came for Snubbs.

When they pulled up he was right there leaning on his 2022 neon green Tesla, “Heeyyy Snubbs,” Alison yelled all the way through to the passenger side window. He just nodded his head as he tipped his fingers off his hat. That was Snubs, Alison's crush since grade school. He never paid too much attention to her but he always gave her his signature salute. “Girl, I don't know why you bother, you know him and Carletta are practically married.”

“Bitch, shut up.”

“He gone by my man one day, you just wait and see.”

Before the wip had a chance to park Bebe rushed in slamming the backseat door like Tyrell was being arrested again and she had to get rid of the coke, “what you hoes doin?” “Bitch please, the only hoe in here is Alison, still feanin over Snubs ass.” hahaha, hikuhhickuah.” “Here bitch,” Bebe said as she panted for air, her trademark blunt was as good as it always was, neatly wrapped pineapple purps with dusted hash, by the time the tingly sensation elevated from their faces and their many exaggerated gossip conversations ended it was already 4 o’clock. Sally rose nearly as slow as a sloth would transfer from one branch to the next while her seat moved forward, “Fuck Ale I gotta go!” She jetted out of the passenger seat and zoomed through her front door anticipating the fact that she would inevitably be arriving late.

She immediately changed out of her laced crop top and ashed-washed shorts throwing them on the floor behind herself, her closet held the fit that would make her look like she was a perfect candidate for expertise and had everything under control. That's what she hoped anyway, she purposely picked long pants with the idea that she would somehow look more sophisticated. As she readied herself Alison waited at her bedroom door mesmerizing in admiration, her best friend was finally ready to get her shit together. She had been saying it for months now, in that very moment Alison took a vow not to get in her way any longer. She could see her drive, the aura of her determination practically devoured the room. Alison pulled her half-wrapped spearmint chew out of her back pocket, grabbed her lime green highlighter out of her purse, and met Sally's shoulders as she was headed out of the room. “I love you, Sal,” she said as she gripped her fist holding both her shoulders. “Here take this for Goodluck.”

There he was glaring through the rectangular door window, piercing and definitely staring at her, “oh shit,” she mumbled as she dove to the side of the door. “What the fuck is this, why the hell was he just staring at me, shit he fucking knows I’m high. Damn.” Her heart pounded faster and louder the longer she curled herself into an invisible ball barely allowing herself the ability to breathe. “Fuuhuck! I still have to go in there though, okay, okay, there is no fucking way he can possibly know, and there is no way I’m going to allow him to get in my way. Sally! Stop, stop being stupid!” Finally, she pulled the door open expecting to meet his stern glare, “Hello Sally!” he said as his bright fangs pierced through his extra widened lips.