Kayla and Tracy

“Tell ya what,” Kayla said as she rooted around in her locker. She found a
pen and paper, then hurriedly scratched out her address and phone number.
“If you want to see it live and in person, call me, OK,” Kayla said as she
pulled out of Suzie’s hands out of her pants to plant the paper in her
palm.

“OK,” Suzie said as she pulled her other hand out of Kayla’s track pants,
then slowly stepped away, her eyes still in disbelief.

The night found Kayla sprawled out on the couch with nothing but track
pants on. The remote in her hand, she was watching the 10 o’clock news
half asleep. Kayla was curled up on an adjacent couch, coffee in hand as
she read an assignment for school. The night floated like a dark curtain
mottled with orange-yellow light just beyond the floor to ceiling windows.

“How’s the book you’re reading Trace?”

“Well, Fanon is pretty interesting,” Tracy replied. “I didn’t know Algeria
was a colony of France. And it’s pretty interesting. I’m just getting
into it.”

“Cool. Gee, I wonder if…” Kayla said as she felt her phone vibrate.
“Hold on Trace while I get this.”

“Hello? Sure, you can come by now. It’s 250 East 72nd. Just go to the
penthouse. I’ll call the doorman, and let him know you’re on your way.
Sure. YES, it’s OK. She’s right here, I’ll ask. OK…see ya in 5.”

Putting the coffee and book on the table, Tracy sat up and asked “now who
are you seducing now?”

“A friend from the gym. I told her what I had, and she’s curious about
it,” Kayla replied. “Deb,” she screamed, “could you call the doorman and
let him know a Suzie is on her way to see me?”

“Yes, mistress,” the maid yelled back from the kitchen.

“Lemme finish this coffee,” Tracy said. “I’ve got to see this. And you
might want to get decent yourself homegirl!” she finished, gesturing to her
lover’s bare voluminous breasts.