Streets of New York. Mark Anthony

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СКАЧАТЬ from her accounting classroom. She sensed that he’d only said that last piece because she’d share this with him. She hated him for exposing her, putting her feelings on full blast.

      “Lindsay, Lindsay what’s the rush I know for a fact that you’ve got no other classes at this time. Would you like to talk?”

      She stared at the professor, despite their run-in earlier he was trying to smile. Lindsay had no time for his tired ol’ ass. Lindsay thought of an escape plan with the quickness.

      “Professor, I gotta go, okay.”

      “C’mon, you said you would talk to me if anything went wrong. I’m a friend remember. Why it seems like just last week we were talking, and you said I was your favorite professor. Those were your own words,” he said getting closer.

      She was searching for a qick exit. The professor was persistent and getting closer.

      “I... I,” she started. He waved, quickly cutting her off.

      “C’mon, c’mon, Lindsay let’s have two small cups of coffee and a big chat. You did say we would always discuss things. C’mon tell me what’s wrong, you’re my best student. You’ve always aced my class and when I see you falling off well, I just gotta let you know. In order to assist you, I gotta know what’s going on.”

      “Professor Allen, I’ll speak with you next week. Right now I really gotta go!” Lindsay exclaimed.

      Suddenly she turned hiding her tears. The professor tried to catch up to her but Lindsay was off and running for the stairs. She could hear the professor calling her name out as she continued on her way.

      “Lindsay, Lindsay?” The professor stood and stared as the young girl disappeared down the spiraling staircase. He shook his head and walked away. “These kids are under too much stress. No time for anything. No time.”

      Lindsay moved swiftly out of range. She knew he wouldn’t shout, he didn’t believe in shouting and she didn’t feel like talking with him. I can’t believe I used to think he was my favorite professor, she thought as Prada heels clicked loudly through the halls and quickly across the busy street. It was a little after two in the afternoon as the eight cylinder of the silver BMW 645ci, roared. Lindsay, her remote in hand, hurriedly approached it. Her short denim skirt was stretched to the limit as she entered the car. Lindsay peeled off with attitude and desire. Now I’ve got to drop that course, she thought while staring at traffic.

      Picking up her cellphone, scanning for her messages, Lindsay dialed frantically as the white convertible dodged traffic. Her thoughts raced, wondering about her lover. Squeeze hasn’t even called me back already. It’s been a fucking minute now. Lindsay’s thoughts raced as she hit the brake for a stoplight. She paused, refreshed her lip gloss then dialed quickly. Again all she got was his outgoing message.

      “Squeeze,” she yelled into the cell phone. “Squeeze, I miss you so much Squeeze. Hit me back boo. Call as soon as you get the chance, honey.” She felt pitiful, sorry for herself but she needed him to spark her. Lindsay wished he’d pick-up his phone when she called, wished he was there with her when she needed him.

      If wishes were horses, I’d have a stable fucking with you Squeeze. Lindsay set the phone down and continued to drive. She pressed the remote to the radio when she got tired of listening to her own thoughts. The Game and 50 Cent thumped How We Do. Lindsay pumped up the volume and hummed along.

      “This is how we do… we making move act da fool while we up in da club

      This how we do… nobody do it like we do so show us some love…”

      No matter how hard she tried, the voices she heard in her head could not be ignored, mainly the one that instructed her to drive to Squeeze’s home. She had a full tank of gas and was ready to ride. There was no one else here to check her actions. Lindsay would have no one but herself to blame if anything went wrong. She realized this action would be entirely on her. Then she told herself it was now or never.

      Mentally Lindsay rationalized: She just wanted to take a look and see if he was all right. Just drive around to his neighborhood maybe peek and make sure he was still breathing. I owe him that much, Lindsay thought as she struggled with the stress of her dilemma. The music reverberated from speakers as Lindsay tried to deal with the voices she heard in her head. ‘Wait a minute’ the sound of Ray J with Lil’ Kim came through her speakers.

      … It’s on tonight… Wait a minute , wait a minute…

      Throwing caution to the wind, Lindsay did not heed the chorus as she steered the car farther from home.

      “I’ll deal with the consequences later,” she told herself as the BMW darted to the Expressway. She thumbed the steering wheel and sung to her favorite tunes on the radio. Many songs later Lindsay found herself closer to her destination. Lindsay let the car roll down the block made up of rows of well kept trees on either side, which provided shades for expensive mansions. She peered hard when she thought she saw his Escalade sitting in the driveway.

      Lindsay was certain this was the right one, she could identify his personal tags HFL1, an acronym for hustler for life one. It crossed her mind to go right up to the front door and ring the bell, but she quickly dismissed the thought. Squeeze would be too through with her, she did not dare risk his anger. She wasn’t here to cause any beef, or stir up problems with his family. She just wanted to make sure he was alright. But exactly how was that going down without her really asking someone inside?

      Lindsay sat in the car and contemplated the possibility of ringing the doorbell and running, she could hide near the well trimmed bushes. Then as if in answer to her wishes the door opened and she could see Squeeze, but he was with someone else maybe that was his wifey. Thinking and acting real fast Lindsay got out the car and ran over to Squeeze.

      ‘“Scuse me, ‘scuse me, I’m sorry but I’m lost. Could you like…ah show me where the highway is, mister?” Lindsay asked with an air of sarcasm. Squeeze did a double-take and almost blew it.

      “Lind…” Squeeze paused and stared at the driver in amazement. “Yeah, I could show ya, ma.” He spoke and walked quickly to where she stood. “Just go a few blocks and make a sharp right,” Squeeze said in a loud voice. He watched her raise her eyebrow and under his breath Squeeze quickly hissed at her. “What da fuck you doing round here, bitch?”

      Squeeze was up close and personal now. Lindsay could smell the Issy Miyake cologne she’d bought him. He looked good and he was alive. She wanted to reach up caress his face and kiss his moist lips. There was no denying his anger. “How many times I done said it bitch? You stupid or sump’n, huh? You lost your fucking mind? I thought I told you not to come to my muthafucking rest. I’ll get in touch with you later. Me and the wifey making some moves right now, I’ll come check you later, ahight?”

      “Okay, I hear you. I hear you. It’s so good to see you, Squeeze honey. I didn’t mean to put the BI on Front Street. I’m sorry boo.”

      “Don’t worry bout a thing, ma just make sure you don’t make the wrong turn again, that’s all. Go straight take that left and be on your way. Drive safely. And be home, ahight. I‘ll see you later.”

      “For real, for real Squeeze? Say you promise, please.”

      “Wha’ I say, just be at your fucking place an’ be ready. I’m coming to break you off sump’n, baby-doll.”

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