An Unexpected Caller

One week later

I didn’t expect my phone to ring at 12:50 am. The shrill ringing woke me up from a weed induced slumber and I squinted at the numbers on the small screen of my cell. An Atlanta number? I don’t know who this is.

I answered anyway out of curiosity.

There was static in the background. Loud static. “Hello,” I repeated 3 times and was about to hang up.

“Yeah,” a male voice piped in. “What’s up?”

“Who is this?” I ask annoyed.

There’s a slight pause and then I hear the words I had been dreading but at the same time looking forward to hearing. “It’s D.”

D meaning DAT DAMN NIGGA who drives me crazy because he is so fine and so handsome and so hard working that I find him irresistible. But most of you know him as Dell.

“Oh,” I replied calmly and yawned. “This number isn’t saved in my phone.”

“That’s okay.” He says and continues. “Yeah. I’m almost back in town. I’m about an hour away from 285. Where are you?”

“I’m at my house.”

“OK, I’ll call you back when I hit 285. Is that okay?”

“That’s fine.”

I hang up and then sit up.

Ok, me and this man are constantly bumping heads because he confuses me by saying he doesn’t want anything with me but I know he enjoys my company. I KNOW he wants me near him. If he’s coming to pick up his house key, which I told him to do, then it will be nothing. We never have to speak again. But he didn’t mention his house key. I don’t know.

Almost 45 minutes later I get a call from him.

“Where are you?” he asks and I’m a bit surprised he asked that because I just TOLD him I was at my house. “You at the house?”

I could assume he was referring to his house because that’s what he calls his house when I go over there but I think he’s simply being ambiguous.

“I’m at MY house,” I reply.

“Well, I’m on 285 and 75. What should I do?”

Huh? This man runs a tow truck company based out of Atlanta . He knows the city very well. In fact, he has a big map on his office wall that details where everything is. Why would he ask me for directions? I can feel that he wants me to meet him at his house but I’m not sure if I want to be there unless he expressly asks me to come. But… for as long as I’ve known him, he doesn’t do that. He beats around the bush a lot and puts the pressure on ME to express my desire to be with him so everything looks so one sided.

“OK, Ok. I’ll call you when I get to S. Cobb Drive.”

“ok.”

I pull on my GATOR sweatshirt and some sweat pants and I hop into my car as he calls to tell me he’s at the front gate. I drive to the front and I see his tow truck parked with the lights on.

I pull over and park too. Then I spend at least 30 seconds sitting frozen in my seat.

The last time we spoke I asked him, “Do you want me to leave?” and he said, “Yes, I think you should.” So I left and never contacted him again except to text him and let him know that I was stopping by his apartment to remove the rest of my stuff. I also told him that when he got back in town, he could pick up his key. He never replied. I never did either. I don’t want to assume anything. I want him to figure out what he wants and to stop sending mixed messages.

I tried my best to forget about his skinny self. I tried to convince myself that he’s gay and he is NOT the one. It worked too. Until I saw him standing in front of me.

He didn’t smile. He didn’t blink.

At 3am he and I stood face to face in the cold, each wondering what the other was thinking. Each too afraid to reveal the truth. Too afraid to say what we really mean.

“Hi,” I mumbled weakly and looked at the ground as I held up his key and he extended his hand to take it from me. “I’m glad you made it back safely.”

“You too,” he said and looked at me.
I looked away again.

“Ok, goodnight,” I said and turned toward my car, shaking my head in disappointment. He sure doesn’t look gay. He is so damn fine.

Maybe I’m just attracted to him physically. I don’t know. I watch as his truck pulls away and I turn the key in my ignition. No engine. I try again 3 more times before I smile and dial his number.

“Hello?” he answers.

“My car won’t start.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t get it to crank up. I don’t know what’s wrong?”

“Ok, I’m coming back.”

I sit pretty in my car wondering if he’s really coming back or not. I try my ignition again and it’s a no-go. Thank God its still not working because I wouldn’t want him to think I made a ploy to get him to talk to me.

He does arrive in less than 5 minutes and he’s very business-like.

“Start your car. Exit the vehicle. Does your car have an alarm?”

He takes my place in the drivers seat and turns the ignition. It purrs perfectly.

I look down at the ground.

“What did you do?” I ask him.

“It was your alarm. You should be fine now.”

“OK,” I say and sit down in my seat. “hanks again.”

He stands there watching me and I look at him with a confused expression.

“I’m just making sure you can pull out okay,” he says and taps the hood of my car when he sees that I’m about to back into his truck.

Oops.

I reverse properly and I head back to my apartment, watching as the flashing lights from his beautiful red truck fade into the distance.

I’m probably never gonna see him again since I promised myself I wouldn’t call him anymore. Sometimes I tell myself that he NEEDS me to call him. He NEEDS me to show him so he will be secure. Maybe it’s just me settling for a man who does not give me any return affection. But…He gives me his time and his attention.

But I really want affection.

And friendship.

A partnership. Just like I have with my friends.

I like him…A lot. Not only is he extremely georgeous, he has great habits. He has a habit of saving money. He reads inspirational books just like I do. He’s so smart and has a great personality. The way he is..his countenance…is so…manly.

He stands with his chin up. That’s confidence.

“I don’t know if I should call,” I think to myself as I stare at his phone number on my cell phone window. “I sure did miss him though.”

I wish I could have told him that last night.

I hate these games we play.