[nine]

Max's POV

My eyes were starting to water, there was only so much I could handle starring at my phone. I called her twice after returning from the west coast, only leaving one message. I looked at the clock, 11:30 PM. Fuck it. I pulled on my coat, grabbed my keys, my phone, my wallet and I was out the door. I got to my car, but the cold air on my face was what I needed at the moment, so I walked to the club. I walked in and looked up. Was that her? She swayed her hips a bit and I smiled, it was her. Her hair was in a ponytail on the side of her head, and she was wearing baggy jeans with untied boots, a black shirt with gold splattered all over it and a few chains hung from her neck. She looked like a rapper. As I headed up the stairs I noticed her hair was in cornrows, going diagonally across her head to where the ponytail was. As ghetto-beautiful as she was, she was still the most beautiful girl in the club. 

I sat back for a little bit watching her, sipping on a glass of whiskey. How can one woman put such a spell on me? I couldn't hear the music she was playing, I couldn't hear the people around me, all my senses were put in to watching her. I finally found some confidence in my body, got up and walked over to her. As I walked up she turned and saw me, a smile came over her face and I think I might of blushed a little. "Hey stranger," she smiled pulling me into the booth with her. She pulled her headphones off and pulled me into a hug. I wrapped my arms around her shoulders and she smelt like strawberries. "I'm off in about ten minutes, want to go grab a bite to eat?" she shouted to me over the music and I smiled nodding my head. She put her headphones back on and I crept away, heading back into the lounge. 

She was in an odd mood, full of energy. She didn't mind the ice on the ground, she would run a bit and go sliding across it. "Wow you must have missed me if you're this excited," I laughed at my sad attempt of a joke. She laughed a bit then turned around to look at me. "I'm not use to getting off at midnight, so I still have two hours in me before I crash." I continued to laugh as we walked, and then she grabbed my arm and dragged me into a diner. "So I want to know more about you," I smiled at her as I stirred my chocolate milkshake. "Well I'm a leftie," she smiled holding her left hand up in the air. "That's a start, what about family? Parents? Siblings?" Oh crap, I think I might have hit a sore spot. Her smile faded a bit and she looked down at her plate of french fries. She picked one up, dipped it in my shake then laughed a bit before eating it. "I've been home twice in the last five years. Both times were for funerals, both of my grandmothers. My family is your perfect, white collar, poodle loving yuppies. I have an older sister who's married with two kids. Had I of followed their mold of a perfect lifestyle I would already be married with a one year old, and I'm only 23." I couldn't help but find that very attractive about her, it showed she was independent and strayed away from the norm. "So you will be here for Christmas then?" "Yeah, you heading home? Where is home for you?" To be honest, I didn't know what I was doing for the holidays yet, we only had two days off. "Home is Lemoyne, Quebec, and I don't know what I'm doing yet. I'm not feeling very festive this year." 

It was clear she was starting to lose her energy as we walked to her apartment. "I really like your corn rows," I smiled pointing to her head as she pulled her hood off to run her fingers over her hair. "Thanks, I've been wanting to do it for a while now, so I finally went and got it done." We walked in silence and I had to keep myself from grabbing her hand. "Well this is me," she smiled looking up at her building. She started playing with her keys as she continued to smile at me. Didn't I see this in a movie? When she's playing with her keys that means she doesn't want the night to end or something? Will Smith? What? I snapped myself out of my confused movie knowledge and smiled back. "Well have a good Christmas if I don't see you before then." I pulled her into a hug and then waved goodbye. Why am I walking away? I hate myself.

Lillianah's POV

Getting a tattoo wasn't nearly as painful as having your hair braided into cornrows. I pushed myself through it though, I wanted them and I wasn't going to stop because it was too painful. "Has he called you?" Alicia asked as she read through a magazine. "Yeah, twice. Left a voicemail saying he was back in town and would like to see me." "Well are you going to call him back?" I thought about it for a moment. I was planning on calling him, I just didn't know when. "Tomorrow I will." I was spun around in the chair and I looked at myself in the mirror. I looked like an older Lady Sovereign and I loved it. It was ghetto-fabulous. 

I was channeling my inner gangster that night at work. Baggy jeans, Timberland boots, untied, a black t-shirt with 'Drop Beats Not Bombs' writing in gold on the front, and a few cheap chains I had picked up at the costume store. I was a complete poser. It was an early night for me, the club had a guest DJ coming in for the last two hours of the night, and I wasn't complaining. I was looking forward to an extra two hours of sleep. I looked down at my watch, it was 11:50, I had ten more minutes. I saw someone walking my way and when I turned to see who it was a huge smile came over my face. I pulled him into my booth and wrapped my arms around his waist. I didn't want him squeezing me around my tattoo. It was still tender. So much for waiting to call him. I looked past him while we were still hugging and didn't see any of the guys he was usually with. Did he come just to see me? "I'm off in about ten minutes, want to go grab a bite to eat?" All he could do was nod his head. 

If I wasn't so hungry I would take him back to my apartment and have some fun with him, but my stomach was growling at me. We sat in an empty diner and I ordered my usual plate of french fries. The perfect food to absorb all the alcohol I had consumed while working. When my fries and his milkshake came, I was so tempted to start dipping my fries in his shake, but I knew I had better manners than that. He started asking about me, and I had no problem with that, until he asked about my family. I didn't know how to explain them to him. They are so different from me, it's frightening. I took a deep breath and lunged forward with my french fry, dipping it in his shake. So much for manners. "I've been home twice in the last five years. Both times were for funerals, both of my grandmothers." I knew I was jumping in deep with him, but if he asked then I shall tell. I wasn't hiding anything. It's plain and simple, I don't fit in with my family.

I stopped outside of my apartment building and these sensations came over my body. I really wanted to kiss him. Kiss him on the lips this time. I wanted to bring him upstairs and show him my place, I wanted to learn more about him. Were these feelings I was . . . feeling? He wrapped his arms around my waist and squeezed me into a tight hug. I bit my bottom lip as my tattoo was still very, very sensitive and my t-shirt rubbing against it from the hug wasn't feeling that great. He pulled away from the hug and waved as he walked away. He's walking away? What's wrong with me? Why can't I get him to stay?