Write In The Middle Of It

She walked over to the tea kettle which was so hot she couldn't even pick it up.

"Ow shit!" She yelled as she dropped it into the sink. The banging became louder at the door.

"Hold on a minute!!" she yelled as she ran her hand under cold water and hissed. She heard the top lock to her front door click open and she stood there trembling.

With her knee she eased open the cabinet under the sink and bent down and pulled out a small, metal, baseball bat. She stood back up and shut off the water as the front door opened. Mekayla lifted the bat up over her head and almost took Erik's head off if he didn't snatch the bat with one hand and twist Mekayla up on to her dining room table.

Ironically they were in the same position as her and Brett was in her dream but the bat was in between them.

"How many times have I told you that little bat ain't gonna do shit?" Erik snickered as he kissed her forehead.

Mekayla kneed him in the stomach just hard enough for Erik to let out a small grunt and stand back up laughing.

"Were you asleep?"

"Yeah," Mekayla walked back into the living room and flopped back down onto the pillows. Erik put the bat on the dining room table and took his shoes off at the front door. He then walked behind Mekayla and playfully tousled her hair before he flopped down next to her.

"I really like your hair." he said.

"Thanks." she said as she sat up on her elbows and began taking out Erik's braids.

Just as she began to frown above his head, Erik pulled a rat-tail comb from his hoodie pocket.

"Thanks, again."

"I'm always prepared." Erik said half seriously

"And if I didn't know any better I'd swear you were white." Mekayla joked.

“Cause you're always early. Weren't you supposed to be at the gym?" she said tilted his head back to look at him.

"I changed my mind. Plus, I wanted to see if you were okay." he said looking up at her.

Mekayla pushed his head back down and resumed removing his braids "Why wouldn't I be okay?"

"Brett is trouble."

"Mmmm, I dunno. He seems okay." Mekayla said not believing her own words.

"Nah, he's definitely weird. Like if you were alone with him too long he may hurt you.

Mekayla's thoughts went back to her dream. She closed her eyes and reminisced about Brett's lips on her body and shuddered. She couldn't understand why she had the dream and it was unsettling to her. She was thinking about Kevin and if he found out he woulda flipped. But it was a dream right, she had no thoughts of acting on it.

Or did she? Maybe the dream was about her own frustration of missing Kevin. Mekayla was going to call him as soon as she was done with Erik's hair. She needed to talk to her baby.

"Why you so quiet?" Erik asked her.

"I'm thinking about Kevin."

"Good. You should be. And you also should be staying away from temptation?"

Mekayla wrinkled up her face, "Who's tempted?"

"Oh please,” Erik responded,” When I came up to the window you looked as though you wanted to eat that man alive."

She chuckled, "I did not!"

"Meek, I know you better than anybody. And I have seen that look on your face before. You remember the bass player?"

"Oh God!" That was so long ago!"

Erik chuckled, "It was, but he was the inspiration to a poem, wasn't he?"

"Shut up!"

"See that's when I know I'm right, because you always tell me to shut up."

"Whateva!" she snipped

"Followed by a whateva." Erik chimed back. "But seriously, what do you know about Brett?"

Mekayla shrugged, "I know all I need to know considering the situation. I'm not pursuing him Erik."

"You better not be."

Mekayla pulled Erik's hair a little harder than normal.

"Ouch. Watch it."

"Sorry." she said half-heartedly.

The two sat in relative silence as Mekayla did Erik's hair. Erik was concerned about her because she always seemed to attract the worst men. The last few people she was involved with either wound up cheating on her or just blatantly doggin her. The bass player was no exception. Erik felt kinda of bad because it was him who introduced the two. He gave her his phone number and Mekayla would strategically plan when to call him, but he was never home and never returned her calls. Because Erik knew Mekayla, he knew that only intrigued her. She had this theory that chaos caused her to be a better writer. She wasn't wrong though. When Mekayla was going through things her poetry had so much flavor. But it bothered Erik that she had to go through hell to write the way she did. Mekayla became the definition of a "tortured artist", until she met Kevin.

Kevin brought a glow to her eyes that Erik had never seen before. And although he was skeptical of the whole long- distance thing, he for the most part couldn't argue that Kevin made Mekayla happy. He just hoped that the artist inside Mekayla didn't have her pining away for new torture to ruin her happiness.

All Mekayla wanted was to call Kevin and have him come up to kill the dream in her head.

Or, even better, outdo it.